BEFORE DELHI.
In the long march to Delhi Nicholson's temper must have been tried time
and time again. He was all impatience to get to his goal and urge on
the assault, the delay of which every day added to the peril that
threatened British India. The tardy progress made, owing to the heavy
guns he carried in his train, caused him to chafe as he had done on
that rebel-pursuing march from Goodaspore some weeks earlier, when his
tireless energy could not brook even a brief halt for rest.
Captain Trotter, in his _Life of Nicholson_, gives us a vivid picture
of the officers and men of the column snatching an hour's repose in the
shade of some trees while their leader remained "in the middle of the
hot, dusty road, sitting bolt upright on his horse in the full glare of
that July sun, waiting, like a sentinel turned to stone, for the moment
when his men should resume their march."
Early in August the Movable Column had crossed the Sutlej, and four
days later Nicholson was galloping on ahead to General Wilson's
headquarters on the Ridge. Wilson, to his relief, had sent an urgent
message summoning him to a council. It was the 7th of the month when
Nicholson rode into the British camp. Before nightfall on that day
everyone was aware that a new power had arrived and was on tiptoe with
excitement to know what the new-comer intended doing.
With the thoroughness that characterised his methods, Nicholson
promptly made a round of the pickets; his tall, striking figure
exciting comment from those who had not seen him before. "His attire,"
says an officer who was on the Ridge at the time, "gave no clue to his
rank; it evidently never cost its owner a thought." But one had only
to look at the dark, handsome, sombre face to see that here was a man
of no little distinction. Grave of demeanour as he always was, his
features were saddened still more now by the news of Sir Henry
Lawrence's death at Lucknow. The loss of his old chief and patron
touched him very nearly, and it was with a heavy heart that he went
about his duties.
Riding back a day or two later to rejoin his troops, Nicholson found
that the column had been strengthened by several additions, bringing
its numbers up to a total of over four thousand men, less than a third
of whom were British. This formidable body made a welcome
reinforcement to Wilson's little army, and put fresh encouragement into
the hearts of the besiegers. In the camp Nicholson renewed his
acquaintance with Chamberlain, then recovering from a wound; Hodson,
the dashing cavalry leader, who had raised a regiment of horse; and
other distinguished leaders. One and all were unfeignedly glad to see
him on the scene, and looked to him to spur the over-cautious
commander-in-chief to a more resolute course of action.
The opportunity for Nicholson to prove his worth came before very long.
A powerful siege-train had been despatched by Sir John Lawrence from
Ferozepore. About the middle of August it was learnt that a large body
of mutineers had sallied out from Delhi with the intention of
intercepting the train, which was proceeding slowly under a rather weak
escort. The duty of attacking the rebels and preventing what would be
a terrible disaster was allotted to Nicholson, and he at once started
off with a column of cavalry, infantry, and artillery, to give battle.
Inquiries revealed the fact that the sepoys occupied a strong position
at Najafgarh, where they had repaired the bridge across the river. The
road thither was a difficult one, and was rendered almost impassable at
places by the swampy nature of the ground. It was the rainy season,
unfortunately, so that the streams that had to be crossed were in
flood. But, despite all obstacles, Nicholson pushed on doggedly,
taking the lead with Sir Theophilus Metcalfe, who had volunteered to
act as guide.
Sir John Kaye records the opinion of a Punjaubi officer of note who
averred that not another man in the camp--"except, perhaps,
Chamberlain"--could have taken the column to Najafgarh. "They went
through a perfect morass," he states. "An artillery officer told me
that at one time the water was over his horses' backs, and he thought
they could not possibly get out of their difficulties; but he looked
ahead, and saw Nicholson's great form riding steadily on as if nothing
was the matter, and so he felt sure all was right."
[Illustration: "He saw Nicholson's great form riding steadily on as if
nothing was the matter."]
The engagement was opened briskly with artillery fire. Forcing the
rebels' left centre, the troops drove the enemy from their strongest
position near an old _serai_ (or caravansary), silenced the guns there,
and then swept irresistibly down the long line of the mutineers towards
the bridge. Nicholson's plan of attack had succeeded beyond
expectation. Under the terrible fusillade the sepoys broke in
confusion, and ran pell-mell for the bridge and the open country on the
other side, only to be pursued and cut to pieces in large numbers. The
whole affair, from the moment of the first shot fired, occupied one
hour, and in that time between 6000 and 8000 well-armed mutineers were
put to flight.
It was a brilliant action--one of the most brilliant, indeed, that took
place in the whole course of the Mutiny. Not only had a huge force of
rebels been dispersed, but a number of guns had been captured, and this
with the loss on our side of but twenty-five men. Well might General
Wilson thank Nicholson and his gallant troops the next morning, "from
my whole heart," for the signal victory gained. Congratulations poured
in on the hero of the day, Sir John Lawrence telegraphing from Lahore
to say, "I wish I had the power of knighting you on the spot; it should
be done!"
The time was now fast approaching when Nicholson was still further to
distinguish himself. The importance of not delaying the assault longer
than could be helped was being forced upon him daily, and at the
council table he urged the necessity for striking an immediate blow.
To his far-seeing mind it was essential that the mutineers should not
be allowed to gather strength while the army on the Ridge became
enfeebled through forced inaction. There were sorties and dashing
charges almost every hour it is true, but these brought the actual
assault on the city no nearer.
As the days crept by and still nothing was decided, Nicholson's
patience gave out. When at last the startling rumour got about that
General Wilson contemplated abandoning the Ridge and retreating until
he had a stronger army at his back, the leader of the Movable Column
decided on a bold course. The idea of leaving Delhi to the mutineers
as a centre for a rebellion which might within a few days become
universal, appalled him. He went to the next council in the General's
quarters with the fixed determination to bring matters to a final issue.
Lord Roberts, from whose book I am again tempted to quote, relates the
story of how he learned of this momentous decision. Nicholson had been
sitting in his tent talking to the young artillery officer of his
plans. He ended by making a dramatic announcement. "Delhi must be
taken," he said, "and it is absolutely essential that this should be
done at once; and if Wilson hesitates longer, I intend to propose at
to-day's meeting that he should be superseded."
On Roberts venturing to remark that, as Neville Chamberlain was _hors
de combat_ through his wound, this step would leave Nicholson senior
officer with the force, the other smiled and answered, "I have not
overlooked that fact. I shall make it perfectly clear that, under the
circumstances, I could not possibly accept the command myself, and I
shall propose that it be given to Campbell of the 52nd. I am prepared
to serve under him for the time being, so no one can ever accuse me of
being influenced by personal motives."
It was a characteristic declaration, and Roberts knew that Nicholson
would carry out his word. As it happened, however, the occasion did
not arise. That day Wilson agreed to the assault being made, and the
next morning an order was issued to the troops informing them of the
welcome decision.