JUNG BAHADOOR--GUNPOWDER--THE MOHURRUM AT LUCKNOW--LOOT
On the return of the regiment to camp at the Dilkoosha on the 13th of
March I was glad to get back to my own company. The men were mortified
because they had not shared in the honour of the assault on the Begum's
palace; but as some compensation the company had formed the
guard-of-honour for the reception of the Maharaja Jung Bahadoor,
Commander-in-Chief of the Nepaulese Army, who had just reached Lucknow
and been received in state by Sir Colin Campbell on the afternoon of the
11th, at the moment when the regiment was engaged in the assault on the
palace. The _durbar_ had at first proved a rather stiff ceremonial
affair, but Jung Bahadoor and his officers had hardly been presented and
taken their seats, when a commotion was heard outside, and Captain Hope
Johnstone, aide-de-camp to General Sir William Mansfield, covered with
powder-smoke and the dust of battle, strode up the centre of the
guard-of-honour with a message to the Commander-in-Chief from Mansfield,
informing him that the Ninety-Third had taken the Begum's palace, the
key of the enemy's position, with slight loss to themselves, but that
they had killed over a thousand of the enemy. This announcement put an
end to all ceremony on the part of Sir Colin, who jumped to his feet,
rubbing his hands, and calling out, "I knew they would do it! I knew my
boys of the Ninety-Third would do it!" Then telling Captain Metcalfe to
interpret the news to the Maharaja, and pointing to the guard-of-honour,
Sir Colin said: "Tell him that these men are part of the regiment that
has done this daring feat. Tell him also that they are _my_ regiment;
I'm their colonel!" The Maharaja looked pleased, and replied that he
remembered having seen the regiment when he visited England in 1852. As
I have already said, the Ninety-Third had formed a guard-of-honour for
him when in Edinburgh, and there were still many men in the regiment who
remembered seeing Jung Bahadoor. There was an oft-repeated story among
the old soldiers that the Maharaja was so pleased at the sight of them
that he had proposed to buy the whole regiment, and was somewhat
surprised to learn that British soldiers were volunteers and could not
be sold, even to gratify the Maharaja of Nepaul.
After returning to camp on the 13th of March, the regiment was allowed
to rest till the 17th, but returned to the city on the morning of the
18th, taking up a position near the Imambara and the Kaiserbagh, both of
which had been captured when we were in camp. We relieved the
Forty-Second, and the sights that then met our eyes in the streets of
Lucknow defy description. The city was in the hands of plunderers;
Europeans and Sikhs, Goorkhas, and camp-followers of every class, aided
by the scum of the native population. Every man in fact was doing what
was right in his own eyes, and "Hell broke loose" is the only phrase in
the English language that can give one who has never seen such a sight
any idea of the scenes in and around the Imambara, the Kaiserbagh, and
adjacent streets. The Sikhs and Goorkhas were by far the most proficient
plunderers, because they instinctively knew where to look for the most
valuable loot. The European soldiers did not understand the business,
and articles that might have proved a fortune to many were readily
parted with for a few rupees in cash and a bottle of grog. But the
gratuitous destruction of valuable property that could not be carried
off was appalling. Colour-Sergeant Graham, of Captain Burroughs'
company, rescued from the fire a bundle of Government-of-India
promissory notes to the value of over a _lakh_ of rupees,[42] and Mr.
Kavanagh, afterwards discovering the rightful owner, secured for
Sergeant Graham a reward of five per cent on the amount. But with few
exceptions the men of the Ninety-Third got very little. I could fill a
volume on the plunder of Lucknow, and the sights which are still vividly
impressed on my memory; but others have written at length on this theme,
so I will leave it.
Before I proceed to other subjects, and to make my recollections as
instructive as possible for young soldiers, I may mention some serious
accidents that happened through the explosions of gunpowder left behind
by the enemy. One most appalling accident occurred in the house of a
nobleman named Ushruf-ood-dowlah, in which a large quantity of gunpowder
had been left; this was accidentally exploded, killing two officers and
forty men of the Engineers, and a great number of camp-followers, of
whom no account was taken. The poor men who were not killed outright
were so horribly scorched that they all died in the greatest agony
within a few hours of the accident, and for days explosions with more or
less loss of life occurred all over the city. From the deplorable
accidents that happened, which reasonable care might have prevented, I
could enumerate the loss of over a hundred men, and I cannot too
strongly impress on young soldiers the caution required in entering
places where there is the least chance of coming across concealed
gunpowder. By the accident in the house of Ushruf-ood-dowlah, two of our
most distinguished and promising Engineer officers,--Captains Brownlow
and Clarke--lost their lives, with forty of the most valuable branch of
the service. All through the Mutiny I never forgot my own experience in
the Shah Nujeef (as related in the fifth chapter of these
reminiscences); and wherever I could prevent it, I never allowed men to
go into unexplored rooms with lighted pipes, or to force open locked
doors by the usual method of firing a loaded rifle into the lock. I
think there ought to be a chapter of instructions on this head in every
drill-book and soldiers' pocket-book. After the assault on a city like
Lucknow some license and plundering is inevitable, and where discipline
is relaxed accidents are sure to happen; but a judicious use of the
provost-marshal's cat would soon restore discipline and order. Whatever
opponents of the lash may say, my own firm opinion is that the
provost-marshal's cat is the only general to restore order in times like
those I am describing. I would have no courts-martial, drum-head or
otherwise; but simply give the provost-marshal a strong guard of picked
men and several sets of triangles, with full power to tie up every man,
no matter what his rank, caught plundering, and give him from one to
four dozen, not across the shoulders, but across the breech, as judicial
floggings are administered in our jails; and if these were combined with
roll-calls at short intervals, plundering, which is a most dangerous
pastime, would soon be put down. In time of war soldiers ought to be
taught to treat every house or room of an assaulted position as a
powder-magazine until explored. I am surprised that cautions on this
head have been so long overlooked.
As before stated, the Ninety-Third did not get much plunder, but in
expelling the enemy from some mosques and other strong buildings near
the Imambara on the 21st of March, one company came across the
tomb-model or royal _tazia_, and the Mohurrum paraphernalia which had
been made at enormous expense for the celebration of the last Mohurrum
in Lucknow in 1857. The royal family and court of Lucknow were
_Sheeahs_: and to enable European readers to understand the value of
the plunder to which I allude, before entering on the actual details, I
will quote from the chapter on the celebration of the Mohurrum in
Lucknow in _The Private Life of an Eastern King_, by William Knighton, a
member of the household of his late Majesty Nussir-ood-Deen King of
Oude, a book which, I believe, is now out of print. Few people seem to
know the meaning of those symbols, the star and crescent or half-moon,
on Mahommedan standards or banners and on the domes of mosques or tombs
of deceased persons of importance, as also on the tomb-models, or
_tazias_ used in the celebration of the Mohurrum. For the explanation of
these symbols we must turn to the science of heraldry, which was well
known in the sixth century A.D., when Mahommed established his
religion. The star is meant to represent Mahommed himself, as the
prophet of God, and the crescent represents the Mahommedan religion,
which every sincere follower of the Prophet believes will eventually
become a full moon and cover the whole earth.
The fanatical rites of the Mohurrum are celebrated on the
anniversary of the death of two leaders of the faithful,
near relatives of Mahommed himself, Hussun and Hoosein, and
are observed by more than one-half the population of India
as a period of deep humiliation and sorrow. The Mussulman
faithful are divided into two sects, Sheeahs and the
Soonies, who feel towards each other much as fanatical
Protestants and Roman Catholics mutually do. The Sheeahs
regard the deaths of Hussun and Hoosein as barbarous
murders; the Soonies look on them as lawful executions of
pretenders to supreme power by the reigning Caliph, the true
head of the faithful. On the first day of the Mohurrum the
vast population of Lucknow appears to be suddenly snatched
away from all interests and employments in the affairs of
this world; the streets are deserted; every one is shut up
in his house, mourning with his family. On the second day
the streets are crowded, but with people in mourning attire,
parading the thoroughfares in funeral procession to the
tomb-models set up here and there as tributes of respect to
the memory of Hussun and Hoosein. These models, called
_tazias_, are representations of the mausoleum at Kerbela
where the two chiefs are buried. The _tazias_ are placed in
an _imambara_ belonging to a chief, or in the house of some
wealthy Mussulman. The _tazia_ belonging to the king of Oude
was made for his Majesty's father, and was composed of
panels of green glass fixed in gold mouldings, and was
regarded as peculiarly holy. [I only take extracts from the
chapter on the Mohurrum from the work I have named. The
_tazia_ belonging to the king accompanied him from Lucknow
on the annexation of Oude.] It is on record at Lucknow that
the celebration of the Mohurrum often cost a reigning Nawab
upwards of L300,000 or Rs. 3,000,000. In Lucknow, before the
Mutiny, it was believed that they had the true metal crest
of the banner of Hoosein, a relic regarded as peculiarly
sacred, and enshrined in a building called the Doorgah. The
name of the charger which Hoosein rode when he was killed
was Dhulldhull, represented in the procession of the
Mohurrum by a spotless white Arab of elegant proportions.
The trappings of Dhulldhull are all of solid gold, and a
golden bow and quiver of arrows are fixed on the saddle.
These extracts from a history of Lucknow before the Mutiny will enable
my readers to form some idea of the splendour of the Mohurrum of 1857,
and the value of the _tazia_ and paraphernalia found, as I said, by a
company of the Ninety-Third. I learned from native troopers that the
golden _tazia_ belonging to the crown jewels of Lucknow having
accompanied the king to Calcutta, a new one was made, for which the
Mahommedan population of Lucknow subscribed _lakhs_ of rupees. In the
eleventh chapter of his _Defence of the Residency_, Mr. L. E. R. Rees
states that the Mohurrum was celebrated with unusual splendour and
fanaticism, commencing that year on the 25th of August, and that on the
_kutal-ka-rath_, or night of slaughter, a certain Mr. Jones, with ten
other Christians, deserted to the enemy by undoing a barricaded door
when one of their own number was on sentry over it. But, instead of a
favourable reception as they anticipated, the deserters received the
fitting reward of their treachery from the insurgents; for they were all
immediately killed as a sacrifice, and their blood sprinkled on the
different _tazias_ throughout the city. To return to my own story; I was
told by a native jeweller, who was in Lucknow in 1857, that the crescent
and star alone of the new _tazia_ made for the young king, Brijis
Kuddur, cost five _lakhs_ of rupees. Be that as it may, it fell to a
company of the Ninety-Third to assault the Doorgah, where all this
consecrated paraphernalia was stored, and there they found this golden
_tazia_, with all the gold-embroidered standards, saddle, and
saddle-cloth, the gold quiver and arrows of Dhulldhull. There was at the
time I write, a certain lieutenant in the company whom I shall call
Jamie Blank. He was known to be very poor, and it was reported in the
regiment that he used to regularly remit half of his lieutenant's pay to
support a widowed mother and a sister, and this fact made the men of the
company consider Jamie Blank entitled to a share in the loot. So when
the _tazia_ was discovered, not being very sure whether the diamonds in
the crescent and star on the dome were real or imitation, they settled
to cut off the whole dome, and give it to Jamie; which they did. I don't
know where Jamie Blank disposed of this particular piece of loot, but I
was informed that it eventually found its way to London, and was sold
for L80,000. The best part of the story is, however, to come. There was
a certain newspaper correspondent in the camp (not Mr. Russell), who
depended on his native servant to translate Hindoostanee names into
English. When he heard that a company of the Ninety-Third had found a
gold _tazia_ of great value, and that they had presented the senior
lieutenant with the lid of it to enable him to deposit money to purchase
his captaincy, the correspondent asked his Madrassi servant the English
equivalent for _tazia_. Samuel, perhaps not knowing the English word
_tomb_, but knowing that the _tazia_ referred to a funeral, told his
master that the English for _tazia_ was _coffin_; so it went the round
of the English papers that among the plunder of Lucknow a certain
company of the Ninety-Third had found a gold coffin, and that they had
generously presented the senior lieutenant with the lid of it, which was
studded with diamonds and other precious stones. So far as I am aware,
this is the first time that the true explanation of Jamie Blank's golden
coffin-lid has been given to the world.
As already mentioned, with the exception of the company which captured
the golden _tazia_ and the Mohurrum paraphernalia, the Ninety-Third got
very little loot; and by the time we returned to the city order was in
some measure restored, prize-agents appointed, and guards placed at the
different thoroughfares to intercept camp-followers and other plunderers
on their way back to camp, who were thus made to disgorge their
plunder, nominally for the public good or the benefit of the army. But
it was shrewdly suspected by the troops that certain small caskets in
battered cases, which contained the redemption of mortgaged estates in
Scotland, England, and Ireland, and snug fishing and shooting-boxes in
every game-haunted and salmon-frequented angle of the world, found their
way inside the uniform-cases of even the prize-agents. I could myself
name one deeply-encumbered estate which was cleared of mortgage to the
tune of L180,000 within two years of the plunder of Lucknow. But to what
good? I only wish I had to go through a similar campaign with the
experience I have now. But that is all very fine thirty-five years
after! "There is a tide in the affairs of men which taken at the
flood"--my readers know the rest. I missed the flood, and the tide is
not likely to turn my way again. Before we left Lucknow the plunder
accumulated by the prize-agents was estimated at over L600,000
(according to _The Times_ of 31st of May, 1858), and within a week it
had reached a million and a quarter sterling. What became of it all?
Each private soldier who served throughout the relief and capture of
Lucknow got prize-money to the value of Rs. 17.8; but the thirty _lakhs_
of treasure which were found in the well at Bithoor, leaving the plunder
of the Nana Sahib's palace out of the calculation, much more than
covered that amount. Yet I could myself name over a dozen men who served
throughout every engagement, two of whom gained the Victoria Cross, who
have died in the almshouse of their native parishes, and several in the
almshouse of the Calcutta District Charitable Society! But enough of
moralising; I must get back to 1858.
Many camp-followers and others managed to evade the guards, and
cavalry-patrols were put on duty along the different routes on both
banks of the Goomtee and in the wider thoroughfares of Lucknow.
In my last chapter I gave it as my opinion that the provost-marshal's
cat is the only general which can put a stop to plundering and restore
order in times like those I describe, or rather I should say, _which I
cannot_ describe, because it is impossible to find words to depict the
scenes which met one's eyes at every turn in the streets of Lucknow. In
and around Huzrutgunge, the Imambara, and Kaiserbagh mad riot and chaos
reigned,--sights fit only for the Inferno. I had heard the phrase "drunk
with plunder"; I then saw it illustrated in real earnest. Soldiers mad
with pillage and wild with excitement, followed by crowds of
camp-followers too cowardly to go to the front, but as ravenous as the
vultures which followed the army and preyed on the carcases of the
slain. I have already said that many of the enemy had to be dislodged
from close rooms by throwing in bags of gunpowder with slow matches
fixed to them. "When these exploded they set fire to clothing,
cotton-padded quilts, and other furniture in the rooms; and the
consequence was that in the inner apartments of the palaces there were
hundreds of dead bodies half burnt; many wounded were burnt alive with
the dead, and the stench from such rooms was horrible! Historians tell
us that Charles the Ninth of France asserted that the smell of a dead
enemy was always sweet. If he had experienced the streets of Lucknow in
March, 1858, he might have had cause to modify his opinion."
FOOTNOTES:
[42] L10,000.