THE GREAT MARCH TO DELHI
For the Guides the great tragedy of 1857 opened with the mutiny of the
55th Native Infantry. When this regiment first showed signs of
insubordination it was quartered at the neighbouring cantonment of
Nowshera, then slenderly garrisoned by British troops, but with many
European women and children. For safety's sake it was therefore thought
better to isolate the regiment by sending it over to Mardan. With the
news of the outbreak at Meerut the demeanour of the regiment became more
sullen and menacing, and it was accordingly decided at once to disarm
the sepoys. For this purpose a column was sent from Peshawur, consisting
of a wing of the 70th Foot, a portion of the 5th Punjab Infantry under
Vaughan, two hundred and fifty sabres of the 10th Irregular Cavalry, and
some Mounted Police; the whole under Colonel Chute of the 70th Foot,
with John Nicholson as political officer.
The 55th Native Infantry had been warned that the column was coming, and
when, from the walls of the fort, they saw it approaching, they broke
and fled, taking the Katlung road, thus hoping to escape across the
border into Swat and Buner. Nicholson with the cavalry and mounted
police immediately started in pursuit. The cavalry, themselves
disaffected, did no execution whatever; but the police behaved with
great dash and gallantry, killing one hundred and twenty, and capturing
one hundred and fifty of the mutineers. The remainder escaped across the
border, but their fate was only postponed. Some were murdered by the
tribesmen, some driven back into British territory, captured and hanged,
and some were blown from guns before the eyes of the garrison of
Peshawur. Of the whole regiment all were destroyed except a few scores
who escaped the gallows and the guns to suffer transportation for life.
Such was the terrible ending of the 55th Native Infantry; a signal and,
as it proved, a most effective warning, the results of which were felt
over the whole of the north-west corner of India.
A distressing and pathetic tragedy resulted from the mutiny of this
regiment. Colonel Henry Spottiswoode who commanded it, like so many
other officers, absolutely refused to believe in the disloyalty of his
men. He was one of those who held the view that distrust bred
disaffection, which with confidence would never appear. So deeply
distressed was this chivalrous officer when his regiment rebelled, that
he refused to outlive what to him was an indelible disgrace, and so,
going apart, shot himself dead. According to an old soldier, then in
the Guides, he fell and was buried under a great mulberry tree at the
cross-roads near the fort.
Meanwhile, the Guides, at six hours' notice, fully equipped, horse and
foot, had started on their historic march to Delhi. They left Mardan at
six in the evening of May 13th, and joined the British force at the
siege of Delhi early on June 9th. The distance is five hundred and
eighty miles, and the time taken was twenty-six days and fourteen hours;
but from this must be deducted five days and nine hours made up as
follows: detained forty-two hours at Attock, holding the fort pending
the arrival of a reliable garrison; detained forty-one hours at Rawul
Pindi, pending the question as to whether the Guides were to be employed
to disarm the native artillery; detained forty-six hours at Karnal by
the magistrate, in order to attack, capture, and burn a hostile village
lying twelve miles off the road. If, therefore, these halts "by order"
are deducted, it will be found that the Guides took actually twenty-one
days and five hours to march five hundred and eighty miles. This works
out to an average of over twenty-seven miles a day. As a contemporary
historian remarks, such a feat would be highly creditable to mounted
troops, and was doubly so to the infantry portion of the corps. To add
to the credit of this high achievement, it may be added that the march
took place at the hottest season of the year through the hottest region
on earth.
The record of a march along the Grand Trunk Road of India does not lend
itself to much picturesque description, but perhaps it may be in this
case of some interest to follow the stern resolve and steady endurance
which carried the stout-hearted regiment through those never-ending
miles along the straight and scorching road to Delhi. And in this
endeavour we are singularly fortunate in having for reference a diary
written from day to day by Henry Daly, who, in the absence of Lumsden on
a special mission, commanded the corps.[11]
[11] _Memoirs of General Sir Henry Dermot Daly, G.C.B., C.I.E.;_ by
Major H. Daly. London, 1905.
The first night's march took the Guides sixteen miles to Nowshera, where
after barely two hours' rest came orders to push on to Attock, another
eighteen miles. To add to the hardships of this march, it so chanced
that the Mahomedan fast of Ramzan was in observance, during which no
follower of the Prophet may eat or drink between sunrise and sunset.
Parched, hungry, and weary, the thirty-four mile march was completed,
and the Indus crossed at ten in the morning of the 14th of May.
Halting by order forty-two hours at Attock, to allow of the arrival of a
relief garrison, the Guides pushed on thirty-two miles to Burhan, on the
night of the 15th--16th, in the midst of a violent dust storm. Many of
the men were very footsore from their long march of the previous day,
but all were cheerful and light-hearted, making naught of their
hardships.
Another thirty-two mile march brought the corps to Jani-ki-Sang, and
took them the next morning fifteen miles in to Rawul Pindi. On the road
Herbert Edwardes passed the corps, and drove Daly on into Rawul Pindi,
there to meet the great hearts of the Punjab, John Lawrence, Neville
Chamberlain, and John Nicholson.
A day was spent here in consultation on the broad aspect of affairs, and
locally as to the advisability, or otherwise, of using the Guides to
disarm the native artillery in garrison. Finally it was decided not to
do so, and thus with the gruff but kindly farewells of John Lawrence,
and the light-hearted chaff and high spirits of Herbert Edwardes, Daly
and his men again set forth, and on the night of the 19th--20th made a
twenty mile march to Mandra. There was no falling off in the cheerful
endeavour, nor was any man so tired or footsore that he would be content
to be left behind.
The next march brought the corps to Sohawa, twenty-four miles, made
trying by hot scorching winds and the deep and intricate nullahs which
had to be crossed. Then followed twenty-eight miles, and in delightful
contrast the vicinity of great rushing waters made a little heaven of
the camp on the banks of the Jhelum. But it was not for long; at dusk
trumpets and bugles again sound the advance, and amidst a great storm of
dust and rain the second of the great rivers of the Punjab is crossed,
and in addition to the great difficulty and delay of a night passage,
yet another twenty-one miles are added to the marching score before
daylight. The 24th being a cooler day, Daly resolved to push on another
fifteen miles to the Chenab, and to cross that river during the course
of the night. This was safely accomplished, and by early morning on the
24th all were on the eastern bank at Wazirabad. That night the men were
called upon for another thirty-two mile march, and daylight saw them at
Kamoké. Resting all day nightfall again found them on the road
completing another thirty miles into Lahore, the capital of the Punjab.
The hour was six in the morning, and the date the 26th of May, from
which it will be seen that the Guides had so far covered two hundred and
sixty-seven miles in ten and a half marching-days.
At Lahore Daly picked up some recruits to replace casualties, as well as
to have a few in hand to meet future vacancies. Marching on, the banks
of the Sutlej, close to the battlefield of Sobraon, forty-three miles
from Lahore, were reached early on the 29th, and the passage of this,
the fifth great river of the Punjab, was at once commenced. Then on
again at dusk thirty-two more miles to Mihna; a more than usually trying
march this, for a cross-country road caused many to lose their way, and
it was twenty-four hours before all the baggage was in. This
necessitated making the next a short march, in order that all might get
into trim again; so at midnight, at the fourteenth milestone, Daly
called a halt, and all slept the sleep of those who have endured much.
June 1st saw the corps march into Ludhiana at three in the morning,
after covering twenty-four miles. Here all was silence, and the
officers, using the lowest step of the court-house as a pillow, slept
soundly till dawn.
A pleasant restful day in the great cool house of the Deputy
Commissioner, Mr. Ricketts, with such unheard of luxuries as cold water
and iced ginger-beer to drink, and cool sheets to lie on, put fresh
vigour into the little band of British officers, and off they went at
half-past seven in the evening for a twenty-eight mile march to
Alawi-ke-Serai. Another march, next night, of the same distance brought
the corps to Rajpoora. They were now close to Umballa, and another night
march brought them, at one in the morning of June 4th, to the deserted
cantonment.
Here they were received in friendly fashion by the troopers of the
Maharaja of Patiala, who had been left in charge, and were conducted to
a grove of great trees near a tank, probably in the vicinity of the
present racecourse. After a good day's rest under the trees the march
was continued to Pipli, twenty-six miles, where a letter was received
from Mr. Barnes, the Commissioner, giving news of the force at Meerut,
and inferring that they were not much more than holding their own.
At Karnal, twenty-four miles onward, and now nearing their goal, two
causes of delay crossed their path. Cholera, that ancient scourge of
the East which finds its easiest prey when men are physically
impoverished with great exertions, now attacked the dusty road-worn
corps, three Gurkhas being the first victims, while seven or eight more
men were down the same evening. At the same time came a call from Mr. Le
Bas, the magistrate, strongly backed by Sir Theophilus Metcalfe, to turn
aside in order to burn a mutinous village. Greatly demurring at any
delay in reaching his main objective, the demand was so urgent that Daly
felt bound to comply with it. His compliance cost him small loss, but
the delay cost the British cause the help of the Guides at the battle of
Budlika-Serai. Though too late for that fight, however, they were in
time for many another before the walls of Delhi.
The moral effect of the arrival of the Guides in Delhi was perhaps in
some measure greater even than the actual fighting strength thus brought
into line. The fame of the march from the far distant frontier, the fine
physique and martial bearing of soldiers drawn from warlike tribes new
to the eyes of their British comrades, the encouraging and enheartening
effect of the arrival of reinforcements however small, all tended to
give the approach of the travel-stained Guides a high significance. Some
such thought perhaps intuitively occurred to all; and every soldier who
could claim to be off duty rushed to the dusty road-side, and hoarsely
cheered the gallant fellows who had overcome so much to reach the side
of their British comrades, hard set to uphold the great Empire of Clive
and Warren Hastings. It is interesting, at this distance of time, to
find recorded the impression of an eye-witness who was amongst those who
watched and cheered as the Guides, after a last thirty mile march,
strode manfully into the camp at Delhi, on this, the morning of the 9th
of June, 1857. "Their stately height and martial bearing," says this
onlooker, "made all who saw them proud to have such aid. They came in as
firm and light as if they had marched but a single mile."
At the end of this great march rest and peace for a day or two had
assuredly been earned. But no; as the Guides approach the historic
Ridge, a staff officer, sent out to meet them, gallops up, and after
giving friendly greeting, with the General's compliments, asks, "How
soon will you be ready to go into action?" "In half an hour," is the
gallant Daly's cheery reply. And thus it came about that history added
one more touch of glory to a great achievement. A little space of time
there was for partial rest and hard-earned food, and then the trumpet
calls to seize their arms and face the foe they had come so far to
fight. And in that fight both horse and foot showed great and glorious
valour; but when evening came, and beaten back the rebels hid behind the
walls of Delhi, the roll-call told its sad undying story. Full many a
Guide had made that strenuous march but to lay down his life e'er yet he
had pitched his tent. And brightest lights, as was meet, amidst these
heroes, were the little band of British officers, for of those, in that
one first fight, all were killed or wounded. Amongst the latter was the
lion-hearted, ever-cheerful Daly; and amongst the former the first of
the great soldier-name of Battye to die a soldier's death. And as he
died in that great agony his face lit up, and calm and smooth came the
grand old Roman verse:
Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.
The story of the Guides before Delhi is the story of all that gallant
band who through the blazing heat, 'midst sickness and disease, fought
the good fight right through the summer of 1857, and with them shared in
the crowning glory of the final assault and capture of the capital of
the Great Mogul. Hence after a few months' harrying and chasing of rebel
bands, with sadly diminished numbers, but still stout of heart, the
order came for the Guides to return to their home on the distant
frontier.
In the midst of so much treachery, such dastardly deeds of murder and
rapine, the bright light of unwavering fidelity, sealed and confirmed by
surpassing gallantry in the field, so appealed to the hearts of the
storm-pressed Englishmen, that the Guides received little short of an
ovation when they returned to Peshawur. By order of Major-General Sir
Sidney Cotton the whole of the garrison was paraded to receive the
shattered remnants of that war-worn corps. On their approach a royal
salute was fired by the artillery, and cavalry and infantry came to the
salute while the massed bands played. The General then made a most
eloquent and affecting address, welcoming the corps back to the
frontier, and expressing the pride and honour felt by all in being
associated with men whose deeds of daring had earned for themselves and
their noble profession undying fame. They had taken six hundred men to
Delhi and their casualties had reached three hundred and fifty. During
the siege the whole strength in British officers had been renewed four
times, and all these had been killed or wounded. One officer indeed had
been wounded six times and yet survived, another four times, and others
at least twice.
After his stirring speech, the General called for three cheers for the
little band of ragged and war-worn heroes, who stood before them. A _feu
de joie_ accompanied by a salute of twenty-one guns was then fired, and
after this the Guides, taking the place of honour at the head of the
line, marched past the flag.