LORD CLYDE'S CAMPAIGNS
Sir Colin Campbell, soon to earn the title of Lord Clyde, had arrived
at Calcutta in the middle of August, as Commander-in-Chief of an army
still on its way from England by the slow route of the Cape. He could
do nothing for the moment but stir up the authorities in providing
stores and transport for his men when they came to hand. All the troops
available in Bengal were needed to guard the disarmed Sepoys here, and
to keep clear the six hundred miles of road to Allahabad, infested
as it was by flying bands of mutineers and robbers. But if he had no
English soldiers to command, there was a brigade of sailors, five
hundred strong, who under their daring leader, Captain William Peel,
steamed up the Ganges, ahead of the army, to which more than once they
were to show the way on an unfamiliar element.
In the course of next month, arrived the troops of the intercepted
China expedition, a detachment from the Cape, and other bodies coming
in by driblets, who were at once forwarded to Allahabad, part of the
way by rail and then by bullock-trains. A considerable force of Madras
Sepoys, more faithful than their Bengal comrades, was also at the
disposal of the Government, and helped to restore order in the country
about the line of march, still so much agitated that reinforcements
moving to the front were apt to be turned aside to put down local
disturbances. Sir Colin himself, hurrying forward along the Grand Trunk
Road, had almost been captured by a party of rebels.
On November 1, he was at Allahabad, from which his troops were already
pushing on towards Cawnpore, not without an encounter, where the Naval
Brigade won their first laurels on land. Two days later, Sir Colin
reached Cawnpore, and at once had to make a choice of urgent tasks.
To his left, the state of Central India had become threatening. The
revolted Gwalior Contingent Sepoys, in the service of Scindia, had
long been kept inactive by their nominal master; but after the fall of
Delhi, they marched against us under Tantia Topee, the Mahratta chief
who had carried out the massacre at Cawnpore, and now comes forward as
one of the chief generals on the native side. This army, swollen by
bands from Delhi, approached to menace the English communications on
the Ganges, if it were not faced before our men turned to the right for
the relief of Lucknow. The question was, whether or not to deal with
Tantia Topee at once. But Sir Colin, misled like Havelock by a false
estimate of the provisions in the Residency, decided at all risks to
lose no time in carrying off the garrison there, even though he must
leave a powerful enemy in his rear. Over and over again in this war,
English generals had to neglect the most established rules of strategy,
trusting to the ignorance or the cowardice of their opponents. Yet
Tantia Topee showed himself a leader who could by no means be trusted
for failing to improve his opportunities.
Leaving behind him, then, five hundred Europeans and a body of Madras
Sepoys, under General Windham, to hold the passage of the Ganges at
Cawnpore, the Commander-in-Chief marched northwards to join Sir Hope
Grant, awaiting him with a column released from Delhi; and the combined
force moved upon the Alum Bagh, still held by a detachment of Outram's
force. From this point they were able to communicate with the Residency
by means of a semaphore telegraph erected on its roof, worked according
to the instructions of the _Penny Cyclopædia_, which happened to be in
the hands of the besieged. Native messengers also passed to and fro,
through whom Outram had generously recommended the relieving army to
attack Tantia Topee first, letting his garrison hold out upon reduced
rations, as he thought they could do till the end of November. He
had thus furnished Sir Colin with plans of the city and directions
that would be most useful to the latter as a stranger. But it seemed
important to give him some guide fully to be trusted for more precise
information as to the localities through which he must make his attack.
A bold civilian, named Kavanagh, volunteered to go from the Residency
to the camp, on this dangerous errand, by which he well-earned the
Victoria Cross.
In company with a native, himself dyed and disguised as one of the
desperadoes who swarmed about Lucknow, Kavanagh left our lines by
swimming over the river, re-crossed it by a bridge, and walked through
the chief street, meeting few people, none of whom recognized him for
a European. Outside the city, the two companions lost their way, but
were actually set right by a picket of the rebels, who here and there
challenged them or let them pass without notice. Before daybreak they
fell in with the British outposts, and at noon a flag on the Alum Bagh
informed the garrison of their emissary's safe arrival.
On November 12, Sir Colin reached the Alum Bagh, where he spent one
more day in making final arrangements; then, on the 14th, he set out
to begin the series of combats by which he must reach a hand to our
beleaguered countrymen. His army, with reinforcements coming up at the
last moment from Cawnpore, numbered some five thousand men and fifty
guns, made up in great part of fragments of several regiments, the
backbone of it the 93rd Highlanders, fresh from England, and steeled by
the Crimean battles in which they had learned to trust their present
leader. These precious lives had to be husbanded for further pressing
work; and in any case he naturally sought a safer road than that on
which Havelock had lost a third of his force.
One looking at the map of Lucknow might be puzzled to explain the
circuitous route taken by both generals from the Alum Bagh to the
Residency, which stand directly opposite each other on either side
of the city, some three or four miles apart. Running a gauntlet of
street-fighting was the main peril to be avoided. Then, not only should
the approach be made as far as possible through open suburbs, but while
the Residency quarter is bounded by the windings of the Goomtee to
the north, the south and east sides are defended by the Canal, a deep
curved ravine, in the wet season filled with water. Instead of forcing
his way, like Havelock, over its nearest bridge, Sir Colin meant to
make a sweep half-round the city on the further side of this channel,
taking the rebels by surprise at an unexpected point, as well as hoping
to avoid the fire of the Kaiser Bagh, a huge royal palace, which was
their head-quarters, and commanded the usual road to the Residency.
His first move was to the Dilkoosha, a hunting palace with a walled
enclosure, which he fortified as a depôt for his stores and for the
great train of vehicles provided to carry off the women and children.
The same day he seized the Martinière College close by, and pushed
his position towards the banks of the Canal, from their side of which
the enemy made hostile demonstrations. Next day was spent in final
arrangements and in repelling attacks. By ostentatious activity
in that direction, the Sepoys were led to believe that they would be
assailed on the English left; but on the morning of the 16th Sir Colin
marched off by his right, crossed the bed of the Canal, dry at this
point, gained the bank of the river, and penetrated the straggling
suburbs upon the enemy's rear, with no more than three thousand men,
the rest left posted so as to keep open his retreat. A small force
this for a week's fighting, under most difficult circumstances, against
enormous odds, where a way must again and again be opened through
fortified buildings!
[Illustration: The Kaiserbagh, Lucknow.]
[Illustration: Ruins of the Residency, Lucknow.
Page 204.]
The line of march lay along narrow winding lanes and through woods and
mud walls, that for a time sheltered our troops from fire. The first
obstacle encountered was the Secunder Bagh, one of those walled gardens
which played such a part in the operations about Lucknow and Delhi.
Its gloomy ruins stand to-day to tell a dreadful tale. The approaches
had first to be cleared, and the walls battered by guns that could
hardly be forced up a steep bank under terrible fire. In half-an-hour,
a small hole had been knocked through one gate, then, Highlanders and
Sikhs racing to be foremost in the fierce assault, the enclosure was
carried, where two thousand mutineers were caught as in a trap. Some
fought desperately to the last; some threw down their arms begging
for mercy, but found no mercy in hearts maddened by the remembrance of
slaughtered women and children. "Cawnpore!" was the cry with which our
men drove their bayonets home; and when the wild din of fire and sword,
of shrieks and curses, at length fell silent, this pleasure-garden ran
with the blood of two thousand dusky corpses, piled in heaps or strewn
over every foot of ground. We may blame the spirit of barbaric revenge;
but we had not seen that well at Cawnpore.
The advance was now resumed across a plain dotted by houses and
gardens, where soon it came once more to a stand before the Shah
Nujeef, a mosque surrounded with high loop-holed walls, that proved a
harder nut to crack than the Secunder Bagh. For hours it was battered
and assaulted in vain, the General himself leading his Highlanders to
the charge. In vain the guns of Peel's Naval Brigade were once brought
up within a few yards of the walls, worked as resolutely as if their
commander had been laying his ship beside an enemy's. In vain brave
men rushed to their death at those fiery loop-holes, while behind
them reigned a scene of perilous confusion, the soldiers able neither
to advance nor retreat among blazing buildings and deadly missiles.
The narrow road had become choked up by the train of camels and other
animals, so that ammunition could scarcely be forced to the front. From
the opposite side of the river, the enemy brought a heavy gun to bear
upon the disordered ranks. Our batteries had to be withdrawn under
cover of a searching rocket-fire.
For a moment Sir Colin feared all might be lost. Yet, after all, what
seems little better than an accident put an easy end to this desperate
contest. At nightfall, a sergeant of the 93rd, prowling round the
obstinate wall, discovered a fissure through which the Highlanders tore
their way, to see the white-clad Sepoys flitting out through the smoke
before them. Our men could now lie down on their arms, happy to think
that the worst part of the task was over.
Next morning, the same laborious and deadly work went on. Other large
buildings had to be hastily bombarded and a way broken through them,
in presence of a host strong enough to surround the scanty force.
But this day the amazed enemy seemed to have his hands too full to
interfere much with our progress. Parties had been thrown out towards
the city, on Sir Colin's left, to form a chain of posts which should
cover his advance and secure his retreat. Meanwhile, also, the garrison
of the Residency were busy on their side, with mines and sorties,
pushing forward to meet the relieving army, who spent most of the day
in breaching a building known as the Mess House. This was at length
carried, as well as a palace beyond, called the Motee Mahal, by gallant
assaults, foremost in which were two of our most illustrious living
soldiers, Lord Wolseley and Sir Frederick Roberts.
Between the relievers and the defences of the Residency there now
remained only a few hundred yards of open space, swept by the guns of
the Kaiser Bagh. Mr. Kavanagh appears to have been the first man who
reached the garrison with his good news; then Outram and Havelock rode
forward under hot fire to meet Sir Colin Campbell on that hard won
battle-field, over which for days they had been anxiously tracing his
slow progress.
This relief may seem to fall short of the dramatic effect of
Havelock's, though it has grand features of its own, and from a
military point of view is a more admirable achievement. To many of the
beleaguered it brought a sore disappointment, when they learned that
their countrymen had come only to carry them away, and that, after all,
they must abandon this already famous citadel to the foe they had so
long kept at bay by their own strength--the one spot in Oudh where the
English flag had never been lowered throughout all the perils of the
rebellion. Inglis offered to go on holding the place against any odds,
if left with six hundred men and due supplies; but Sir Colin, while
admiring his spirit, was in no mind for sentiment, aware that not a
man could be spared to idle defiance. At first he had been for giving
them only two hours to prepare their departure. A delay of a few days,
however, was won from or forced upon him by the circumstances to be
reckoned with--days to him full of anxious responsibility, and for his
men of fresh perils.
On Nov. 19, a hot fire was opened against the Kaiser Bagh, the enemy
thus led to believe in an assault imminent here. Under cover of this
demonstration, the non-combatants were first moved out in small groups
behind the screen of posts held through the suburbs, all reaching
the Dilkoosha safely. At midnight of the 22nd the soldiers followed,
the covering posts withdrawn as they passed, and the whole force
was brought off without the loss of a man, while the Sepoys blinded
their own eyes by continuing to bombard the deserted entrenchment.
The garrison were naturally loth to leave it a prey to such a foe,
who could neither drive them out nor prevent them from marching away
before his face. They had to abandon most of their belongings to be
plundered, the army being already too much hampered by its train.
The public treasure, however, was carried off, and the Sepoys so far
disappointed of a prize they had striven in vain to wrest from these
poor works. The guns also had been saved or rendered unserviceable. It
was trying work for the women, their road being at some points under
fire, so that they had to catch up the children and make a run for it;
then, once behind safe walls again, they must wait two or three days in
suspense for husbands and fathers, who might have to cut their way out,
if the Sepoys became aware what was going on.
Among the first to leave were the Martinière boys, whom we have left
out of sight for a time. Some of these juvenile heroes, however, had
been too eager about getting away. The elder ones, who carried arms,
forgot that they were numbered as soldiers, and must wait for orders
before retiring. Next day they had a sharp hint of this in being
arrested and sent back under escort to the Residency, where a bold face
of defence was still maintained, the enemy to be kept in ignorance of
our proposed retreat. We may suppose that the young deserters were
let off easily; and, on the day after, Hilton and another boy, having
satisfied military punctilio, obtained an honourable exit by being
sent off in charge of two ponies conveying money and other valuable
property belonging to the College. On the way they came under fire of
an enemy's battery across the river, and a shot whizzed so near that
the ponies ran off and upset their precious burden; then the boys,
helped by some of Peel's sailors, who were replying to the Sepoy fire,
had much ado in picking up the rupees and catching their restive
beasts; but, without further adventure, once more reached the camp
at Dilkoosha, where, with plenty to eat, and the new sense of being
able to eat it in safety, they could listen to the roar of guns still
resounding in the city.
The final scene is described for us by Captain Birch, who had
throughout acted as aide-de-camp to Inglis:--"First, the garrison
in immediate contact with the enemy, at the furthest extremity of
the Residency position, was marched out. Every other garrison in
turn fell in behind it, and so passed out through the Bailey Guard
Gate, till the whole of our position was evacuated. Then came the
turn of Havelock's force, which was similarly withdrawn post by
post, marching in rear of our garrison. After them again came the
forces of the Commander-in-Chief, which joined on in the rear of
Havelock's force. Regiment by regiment was withdrawn with the utmost
order and regularity. The whole operation resembled the movement of a
telescope. Stern silence was kept, and the enemy took no alarm. Never
shall I forget that eventful night. The withdrawal of the fourteen
garrisons which occupied our defensive positions was entrusted to
three staff-officers--Captain Wilson, assistant Adjutant-General; the
Brigade-Major, and myself, as aide-de-camp. Brigadier Inglis stood at
the Bailey Guard Gate as his gallant garrison defiled past him; with
him was Sir James Outram, commanding the division. The night was dark,
but on our side, near the Residency-house, the hot gun-metal from some
guns, which we burst before leaving, set fire to the heap of wood
used as a rampart, which I have before described, and lighted up the
place. The noise of the bursting of the guns, and the blazing of the
rampart, should have set the enemy on the _qui vive_, but they took no
notice. Somehow, a doubt arose whether the full tale of garrisons had
passed the gate. Some counted thirteen, and some fourteen; probably two
had got mixed; but, to make certain, I was sent back to Innes' post,
the furthest garrison, to see if all had been withdrawn. The utter
stillness and solitude of the deserted position, with which I was so
familiar, struck coldly on my nerves; I had to go, and go I did. Had
the enemy known of our departure, they would ere this have occupied our
places, and there was also a chance of individuals or single parties
having got in for the sake of plunder; but I did not meet a living
soul. I think I may fairly claim to have seen the last of the Residency
of Lucknow before its abandonment to the enemy. Captain Waterman, 13th
Native Infantry, however, was the last involuntarily to leave; he fell
asleep after his name had been called, and woke up to find himself
alone; he escaped in safety, but the fright sent him off his head for
a time. As I made my report to the commanders at the gate, Sir James
Outram waved his hand to Brigadier Inglis to precede him in departure,
but the Brigadier stood firm, and claimed to be the last to leave the
ground which he and his gallant regiment had so stoutly defended. Sir
James Outram smiled, then, extending his hand, said, 'Let us go out
together;' so, shaking hands, these two heroic spirits, side by side,
descended the declivity outside our battered gate. Immediately behind
them came the staff, and the place of honour again became the subject
of dispute between Captain Wilson and myself; but the former was weak
from all the hardships and privations he had undergone, and could not
stand the trick of shoulder to shoulder learned in the Harrow football
fields. Prone on the earth he lay, till he rolled down the hill, and I
was the last of the staff to leave the Bailey Guard Gate."
On the 23rd all were united at the Dilkoosha; but here the successful
retreat became overclouded by a heavy loss. Havelock, worn out through
care and disease, died before he could know of the honours bestowed
upon him by his grateful countrymen, yet happy in being able to say
truly: "I have for forty years so ruled my life that, when death came,
I might face it without fear." Under a tree, marked only with a rudely
scrawled initial, he was left buried at the Alum Bagh, till a prouder
monument should signalize his grave as one of the many holy spots
"where England's patriot soldiers lie."
There was no time then for mourning. Leaving Outram with a strong
detachment at the Alum Bagh, to keep Lucknow in check, Sir Colin
hurried by forced marches to Cawnpore, where his bridge of boats
across the Ganges was now in serious danger. As the long train of
refugees approached it, they were again greeted by the familiar sound
of cannon, telling how hard a little band of English troops fought
to keep open for them the way to safety. The city was in flames, and
a hot battle going on beyond the river, when Sir Colin appeared upon
the scene, not an hour too soon, for his small force here had been
driven out of its camp into the entrenchment covering the bridge. "Our
soldiers do not withdraw well," an observer drily remarked of this
almost disastrous affair.
Next day, he crossed the Ganges to confront Tantia Topee with less
unequal force. Before doing anything more, he must get rid of his
encumbering charge, some of whom had died in the haste of that anxious
march. On December 3, the non-combatants were sent off towards
Allahabad, on carriages or on foot, till they came to the unfinished
railway, and had what was for many of them their first experience
of railroad travelling. As soon as they were well out of danger, on
December 6, was fought the third battle of Cawnpore, which ended in a
disastrous rout of the rebels.
This victory could not be immediately followed up, owing to want
of transport, the carriages having been sent off to Allahabad. But
Sir Colin now felt himself master of the situation, with also the
"cold weather," as it is called by comparison, in favour of English
soldiers, and laid his plans for thoroughly reconquering the country,
step by step. We need not track all his careful movements, which lasted
through the winter, and indeed beyond the end of next year; it would be
a too tedious repetition of hopeless combats and flights on the part
of the enemy, hiding and running before our forces, who eagerly sought
every chance of bringing them to bay. The dramatic interest of the
story is largely gone, now that its end becomes a foregone conclusion.
So leaving Sir Colin and his lieutenants to sweep the Doab, we return
next spring to see him make an end of Lucknow, which all along figures
so prominently in these troubles. It was here that the rebellion died
hardest, since in Oudh it had more the character of a popular rising,
and not of a mere military mutiny.
The Commander-in-Chief would have preferred to go on with a slow and
sure conquest of Rohilcund, letting Lucknow blaze itself out for the
meanwhile; but the Governor-General urged him to a speedy conquest of
that city, for the sake of the prestige its mastership gave, so much
value being attached to the superficial impressions of power we could
make on the native mind. As it was, Sir Colin thought well to wait,
through most of the cold weather, for the arrival of reinforcements,
in part still delayed by the task of restoring order on the way.
Then also he was expecting a slow Goorkha army under Jung Bahadoor,
the ruler of Nepaul, who, having offered his assistance, might take
offence if the siege were begun without him. The newspapers and other
irresponsible critics attacked our general for what seemed strange
inaction. Indeed, he was judged over-cautious by officers who with a
few hundreds of English soldiers had seen exploits accomplished such as
he delayed to undertake with thousands. He at least justified himself
by final success, and none have a right to blame him who do not know
the difficulty of assembling and providing for the movements of an army
where every European soldier needs the services of natives and beasts
of burden, and every animal, too, must have at least one attendant.
It was not till the beginning of March that he set out from Cawnpore
with the strongest British force ever seen in India--twenty thousand
soldiers, followed by a train fourteen miles long; camels, elephants,
horses, ponies, goats, sheep, dogs, and even poultry, with stores and
tents; litters for the sick in the rear of each regiment; innumerable
servants, grooms, grass-cutters, water-carriers, porters, traders and
women--a motley crowd from every part of India; and over all a hovering
cloud of kites and vultures, ready to swoop down on the refuse of this
moving multitude and the carnage that would soon mark its advance. As
it dragged its slow length along, moreover, the army now unwound a
trail of telegraph wire, through which its head could at any moment
communicate with his base of operations, and with Lord Canning, who had
made Allahabad the seat of his Government, to be nearer the field.
Yet such a force was small enough to assail a hostile city some score
of miles in circuit, holding a population estimated at from half a
million upwards, and a garrison that, with revolted troops and fierce
swashbucklers, was believed to be still over a hundred thousand strong.
Their leaders were a woman and a priest--the Moulvie, who at the outset
became notorious by preaching a religious war against us infidels, then
all along appears to have been the animating spirit of that protracted
struggle; and the Begum, mother of a boy set up as King of Oudh. This
poor lad got little good out of his kingship; and even those in real
authority about him must have had their hands full in trying to control
his turbulent subjects.
But there was some military rule among the rebels, and during the
winter they had been diligent in fortifying their huge stronghold. A
high earthen parapet, like a railway embankment, had been thrown up
along the banks of the Canal, itself a valuable defence, now rendered
impassable where Sir Colin crossed before, with trenches and rifle-pits
beyond; inside this a line of palaces connected by earthworks formed
a second barrier; and the citadel was the Kaiser Bagh, a vast square
of courtyards crowned by battlements, spires and cupolas, gilt or
glaringly painted--a semi-barbaric Versailles. This, though it had
no great strength in itself, was put in a position of defence. The
chief streets were blocked by barriers or stockades, and the houses
loop-holed and otherwise turned to account as fortifications wherever
the assailants might be expected to force their way. Still, after the
exploits again and again performed by handfuls against hosts, there was
no one in our army who now for a moment doubted of success.
As they approached that doomed city, the English soldiers were greeted
by the cannon of the Alum Bagh, where all winter Outram, with four
thousand men, had coolly held himself in face of such a swarm of
enemies. On March 4th, Sir Colin was encamped in the parks about the
Dilkoosha, from the roof of which he surveyed the wide prospect of
palaces and gardens before him, while his outposts kept up a duel of
artillery and musketry with the Martinière opposite, where the rebels
had established themselves. He soon saw the weak point in their scheme
of defence. They had omitted to fortify the city on its north side,
supposing this to be protected sufficiently by the river, the two
permanent bridges of which were a long way up, beyond the Residency,
and approached on the further bank through straggling suburbs. Here,
then, the enemy not being prepared, was the best place to attack; and
though before more resolute and skilful opponents, it would be counted
rash to separate the two wings of an army by a deep river, under the
circumstances, this was what Sir Colin resolved to do. A pontoon-bridge
was thrown across the Goomtee, by which, on the 6th, Outram crossed
with a column of all arms, to encamp near Chinhut, the scene of our
reverse under Sir Henry Lawrence.
The next two days were spent in pushing back the enemy, who had soon
discovered Outram's movements; and by the morning of the 9th, he had
established himself on the left side of the river, with a battery
enfilading the rear of the first defensive line running from its right
bank. Just as the guns were about to open fire, it appeared that the
rebels had not stayed for any further hint to be off. On the opposite
side could be seen a detachment of Highlanders waiting to carry the
abandoned wall. Shouts and gestures failing to attract their attention,
a brave young officer volunteered to swim over the river to make
certain how matters stood; and presently a dripping figure was seen on
the top of the parapet, beckoning up the Highlanders, who rushed in to
find the works here abandoned to them without a blow. The Martinière,
close by, was carried with almost equal ease, the Sepoys swarming out
like rats from a sinking ship; and thus quickly a footing had already
been gained in those elaborate defences. Before the day was over, we
held the enemy's first line of defence.
For another two days, the operations went on without a check, Outram
advancing on the opposite side as far as the bridges and bombarding
the works in the city from flank and rear, while Sir Colin took and
occupied, one by one, the strong buildings, some of which, already
familiar to his companions in the former attack, were found still
tainted by the corpses of its victims, but this time gave not so much
trouble. Jung Bahadoor now arrived with his Goorkhas, enabling the line
of assault to be extended to the left. Two more days, Sir Colin sapped
and stormed his way through fortified buildings on the open ground
between the river and the city, choosing this slow progress rather
than expose his men to the risk of street-fighting. On the 14th, the
third line of works was seized, and our men pressed eagerly forward
into the courts and gardens of the Kaiser Bagh, which at once fell into
their hands with some confused slaughter.
This rapid success came so unexpectedly, that no arrangements had been
made for restraining the triumphant soldiery from such a wild orgy
of spoil and destruction as now burst loose through that spacious
pleasure-house. The scene has been vividly described by Dr. Russell,
the _Times_ Correspondent, who was an eye-witness--walls broken down,
blazing or ball-pitted; statues and fountains reddened with blood; dead
or dying Sepoys in the orange-groves and summer-houses; at every door
a crowd of powder-grimed soldiers blowing open the locks, or smashing
the panels with the butt ends of their muskets; their officers in vain
trying to recall them to discipline; the men, "drunk with plunder,"
smashing vases and mirrors, ripping up pictures, making bonfires of
costly furniture, tearing away gems from their setting, breaking open
lids, staggering out loaded with porcelain, tapestry, caskets of
jewels, splendid arms and robes, strangely disguised in shawls and
head-dresses of magnificent plumes. Even parrots, monkeys, and other
tame animals were made part of the booty. One man offered Dr. Russell
for a hundred rupees a chain of precious stones afterwards sold for
several thousand pounds; another was excitedly carrying off a string
of glass prisms from a chandelier, taking them for priceless emeralds;
some might be seen swathed in cloth of gold, or flinging away too
cumbrous treasures that would have been a small fortune to them. This
wasteful robbery broke loose while the din of shots and yells still
echoed through the battered walls and labyrinthine corridors of the
palace. Then, as fresh bands poured in to share the loot, white men and
black, these comrades had almost turned their weapons on each other
in the rage of greed; and, meantime, without gathered a crowd of more
timid but not less eager camp-followers, waiting till the lions had
gorged themselves, to fall like jackals upon the leavings of the spoil.
To this had come the rich magnificence of the kings of Oudh.
Amid such distraction, the victors thought little of following up
their routed enemy, whose ruin, however, would have been overwhelming
had Outram, as was his own wish, now crossed the nearest bridge to
fall upon the mass of dismayed fugitives. Sir Colin had given him
leave to do so on condition of not losing a single man--an emphatic
caution, perhaps not meant to be taken literally; but Outram, whom
nobody could suspect of failing in hardihood, interpreted it as keeping
him inactive. Thus a great number of rebels now made their escape,
scattering over the country. Many still clung to the further buildings,
which remained to be carried. Even two days later some of them had
the boldness to sally out against our rear at the Alum Bagh, and the
Moulvie, their leader, did not take flight for some days. But, after
the capture of the chief palace, the rest could be only a matter of
time.
By the end of a week, with little further opposition, on March 21,
we had mastered the whole city, to find it almost deserted by its
terrified inhabitants, after enjoying for almost a year the doubtful
benefits of independence.
The British soldiers were now lodged in the palaces of Oudh, and might
stroll admiringly through the ruins of that wretched fortress which, in
the hands of their countrymen, had held out as many months as it had
taken them days to overcome the formidable works of the enemy. Their
victory was followed up by a proclamation from the Governor-General,
that in the opinion of many seemed harsh and unwise, since, with a few
exceptions, it declared the lands of Oudh forfeit to the conquering
power. The natural tendency of this was to drive the dispossessed
nobles and landowners into a guerilla warfare, in which they were
supported by the rebels escaped from Lucknow to scatter over the
country, taking as strongholds the forts and jungles that abound in it.
Nearly a year, indeed, passed before Oudh was fully pacified.
After sending out columns to deal with some of the most conspicuous
points of danger, Sir Colin moved into Rohilcund, his next task being
the reduction of its no less contumacious population. On May 5th, a
sharp fight decided the fate of Bareilly, its capital. Then he was
recalled by the Oudh rebels, growing to some head again under that
persistent foe the Moulvie. But, next month, the Moulvie fell in a
petty affray with some of his own countrymen--a too inglorious end for
one of our most hearty and determined opponents, who seems to have had
the gifts of a leader as well as of a preacher of rebellion.
Again may be hurried over a monotonous record of almost constant
success. The troops had suffered so frightfully from heat, that they
must now be allowed a little repose through the rainy season. With
next winter began the slow work of hunting down the rebels, in which
Sir Hope Grant took a leading part. By the spring of 1859, those still
in arms had been driven into Nepaul, or forced to take shelter in the
pestilential, tiger-haunted jungles of the Terai, while throughout
Hindostan burned bungalows were rebuilding, broken telegraph-posts
replacing, officials coming back to their stations; and the machinery
of law and order became gradually brought again into gear, under the
dread of a race that could so well assert its supremacy.