_1857. ABERDEEN. DINAPORE. OUTBREAK OF SEPOY MUTINY_
An unpropitious New Year--Depart for India--A quotation--Distilling
water--First news of Sepoy mutiny--Madras--Conditions at Calcutta--
The _Soorma_--Terrible tales--Berhampore--Rajmahal--Bhaugulpore--
Monghyr--Delhi and Agra cut off--Rejoin the 10th.
The year 1857 began with me inauspiciously. Unrecovered from illness,
it was necessary that I should proceed to the metropolis, there to
appear before a Medical Board. A short extension of leave being granted
by that tribunal, the fact was communicated in a manner personally
offensive, with the intimation superadded that if at the expiration of
the period I was still unfit to join my regiment, I must make way for a
more efficient officer.
The aspect of affairs, so far as I was concerned, was gloomy. On the
one hand I had the prospect of half-pay for an indefinite time, on
a rate[154] quite insufficient to meet the ordinary needs of myself
and family; on the other, to return to India in the state of physical
illness in which I then was. Taking an estimate of my worldly means,
the circumstance came out that from insurance, and small amount of
investments as they then stood, comparing the result with income on
half-pay, the receipts of my wife as a widow would exceed by a trifling
amount that to which I should be entitled in the alternative first
named. Thereupon decision was quickly made; a solicitor prepared
my “last will and testament.” I placed the document in the writing
portfolio of my wife; took leave of her as she lay weak and ill in
bed;[155] started away to rejoin my regiment, the children clapping
their little hands as I did so, and shouting, “Papa’s gone away for
toys.”
Embarking[156] at Gravesend, the earlier part of our voyage was without
special incident. The excellent selection of books sent on board for
the use of the troops--for a considerable number were being conveyed
to India--enabled those who so desired to get through a good deal of
reading. A passage in one of those works seemed so appropriate at the
time to personal conditions that it was duly noted; namely, “The evil
we suffer is often a counter-check which restrains us from greater
evil, or a spur to stimulate us to good. We should therefore consider
everything, not according to present sensation of pain, or the present
loss or injury it occasions, but according to its more general, remote,
and permanent effects and bearings--whether our higher faculties are
not brought more into play, and our mental powers more invigorated by
the meditation and experiments necessary to secure ourselves.”[157]
A considerable part of the voyage passed without special incident.
Some “heavy” weather was experienced, but in that respect nothing
unusual or of a kind likely to do harm to ship or stores. Great,
therefore, was the consternation with which we learnt that water casks
and tanks had so suffered that the sea water had got into and rendered
their contents unusable. At the time we were in the latitude of the
Mauritius, and about twelve hundred miles east of that island. What
was to be done? The chief officer and myself devised a distilling
apparatus, constructed with kettles, boilers, gun-barrels, and leaden
pipes of _sorts_. Our success was considerable; some twenty gallons of
“fresh” water were thus obtained throughout the day, and so on during
twenty-two that had to pass before land was reached, though from some
of our lady passengers comments were not wanting as to the “nasty”
taste of the product. Meanwhile fuel ran short; bulkheads and spars had
to be utilised; our ship reduced to skeleton state. In that condition
we arrived off Madras and anchored.
The news we there received was at the moment astounding, as it was
unexpected. The greater part of the Bengal army in open mutiny; sepoys
murdering their officers, together with their wives and children;
widespread disaffection among the native troops of both the other
Presidencies. As written at the time, and when the intelligence was
fresh: “It appears that the ostensible cause of the outbreak was the
issue of cartridges greased with animal fat. But for a long time past
a deep-rooted determination has existed among the natives to throw off
a foreign yoke, and to raise for themselves a king of the Delhi line
of succession. Large numbers of mutineers are said to have fled to the
imperial city; many officers and their families have been massacred.”
At Madras the state of things indicated that something very serious and
unusual was in progress. European residents enrolled as volunteers;
Fort St. George in process of being manned and provisioned; ammunition
got ready for immediate use; at each post where stood a native sentry
there was also placed a British soldier, or pensioner, the latter
“embodied” and armed for the occasion. The regiment[158] in the fort
was held ready for emergencies; so were the artillery at St. Thomas’
Mount. The Mahomedan inhabitants of Triplicane, a suburb of Madras,
were declared to be in open revolt.
At the mouth of the Hooghly the arrival of the pilot on board was
eagerly looked for, his recital of news listened to with painful
interest. In that recital particulars were given of murder and
atrocities[159] committed by mutineers on women and children, the names
of the victims at the same time given. Disembarking at Calcutta early
in August, unusual military turmoil was in progress. At short intervals
throughout the city parties of extemporised volunteers were posted;
Fort William was in course of reinforcement; the streets were patrolled
by armed parties of Europeans, while everywhere an air of unrest
seemed to prevail. At Government House sentries of the Body Guard
were on duty, their arms the ramrods of their carbines. An impression
existed that as the date was that of the Mahomedan festival, the
Buckra-eed,[160] the occasion was likely to be celebrated by an attack
on the capital--a belief which derived support from the fact that a
spy from the King of Oude, then at Garden Reach, had been captured
while conveying a traitorous letter, his trial and execution following
thereupon without much delay. Other preparations in progress indicated
the conditions of the time; accommodation, stores of food and clothing,
as well as other requirements, were being got ready in anticipation
of women and children, survivors from deeds of blood at up-country
stations, who were known to be on their way hither. Comments were very
freely made on the energy displayed by commanders in some instances, in
contrast with pusillanimity in others.
A passage order obtained, I embarked as deck passenger--for there was
no spare cabin--on board the river flat _Soorma_, proceeding with a
body of Sikh troops and their officers, Sir James Outram and staff
being in the steamer to which the _Soorma_ was connected. On the day
of our departure we met in the Hooghly a steamer and its flat, both
crowded with ladies and children who had succeeded in effecting their
escape, but whose husbands, fathers, or other relations had for the
most part fallen victims at their respective stations.
Very terrible were the tales some of the “refugees,” as they were
called, told of atrocities committed within their own knowledge, or
of which they had received what in their estimate was authentic
information. A few examples must suffice:--Two young ladies[161]
stripped naked, tied to hackeries, and so driven through the streets,
then dishonoured by sweepers and barbarously murdered. A lady tied up
in her own house, and so forced to witness the murder of her husband.
An officer, to save his wife and child from dishonour and abuse, shot
them both, before being himself cut down. The massacre at Cawnpore
perpetrated by bazaar butchers employed for the purpose. A young lady
with her own hand killing five of her assailants, then throwing herself
upon her sword rather than fall into the hands of their fellows. A
lady, with her husband and child, while endeavouring to escape on
horseback; her husband dying in the jungle as a result of exposure; she
forced to abandon his corpse, and with her child continue their flight.
And so on.
At Berhampore, the 11th Irregular Cavalry and 63rd N.I. had recently
been disarmed; their horses and arms collected around the military
hospital; that building put into a state of defence; houses in its
vicinity in process of destruction; guns and other arms being sent into
the station by the Nawab of Moorshedabad.
At Rajmahal news received that mutineers besieging Arrah had been
dispersed; that “something” had happened to a party of the 10th.
Havelock’s force, in its advance on Lucknow, severely seized by
cholera; losses by death,[162] and inefficiency by sickness so great
that he was under the necessity of returning to Cawnpore, there to
dispose of sick, and obtain reinforcements preparatory to resuming his
advance. Sorties by the rebels in Delhi repulsed with heavy loss to
them; Lord Elgin arrived at Calcutta, accompanied by some marines and
artillery; other reinforcements expected to arrive in a few days.
At Bhaugulpore the display of the Union Jack from a Mahomedan
mosque indicated the fact that the edifice was occupied by British
troops.[163] We learned also that a portion of the 5th Irregular
Cavalry, suspected of mutinous intentions, were about to be disbanded
by the 90th Regiment in progress up country; that a few days previous
men of the former corps, occupying a station in near vicinity of this
place, murdered Sir Norman Leslie, one of their officers, and wounded
several others; that, notwithstanding these circumstances, the officer
in command urged his confidence in the loyalty of his men, as a reason
that they should be spared from the disgrace of being disarmed. His
prayer was acceded to. That night the men deserted their officers, rode
off with their horses to join the 32nd N.I., at Deoghur.
Monghyr was in a state of panic; a small body of the Northumberland
Fusiliers, aided by residents, doing their best to put the dilapidated
fort in a state of defence, and making other preparations against
possible emergency.
Communication with Agra and Delhi only practicable _viâ_ Bombay;
all direct telegraph wires destroyed; military and residents at the
first-named place, secure within the fort, declaring themselves able
“to hold out” for a long time, notwithstanding that in a _sortie_
against the rebels they had suffered severely; at Delhi offensive
measures against mutineers languishing by reason of heavy sickness and
mortality among our troops besieging that city.
Rejoining the 10th[164] at Dinapore, that station was seen to be
without sepoy troops; the barracks formerly occupied by them deserted;
the barrack square filled with refugees from neighbouring places.
Next day the 90th Regiment, in progress up country, was temporarily
detained, as attack by mutineers was anticipated and had to be guarded
against; a considerable number of the men fallen sick, had on that
account to be landed, for they also were being conveyed by river. A
few days thereafter a detachment of the 10th arrived from Jugdispore,
at which place they inflicted considerable loss upon the mutineers,
who had taken part in the disaster to be presently noticed as having
befallen a portion of the regiment at Arrah. But continuity demands
some particulars relating to events which led up to the disaster and
expedition so alluded to.