CHAPTER XII.

EVENTS IN THE PUNJAUB AND SINDE.

A very important and interesting region in Northern India has scarcely

yet been mentioned in this narrative; that, namely, which comprises the

Punjaub and Sinde—the Punjaub with its offshoot Cashmere, and Sinde with

the delta of the Indus. It will now be necessary, however, to obtain a

few general notions on the following points—the geographical position of

the Punjaub; the national character of the Sikhs as the chief

inhabitants; the transactions which rendered the British masters of that

country; and the circumstances that enabled Sir John Lawrence at once to

hold the Punjaub intact and to aid the besiegers of Delhi. Of Sinde, a

still shorter account will suffice.

The name Punjaub is Persian; it signifies ‘five waters;’ and was given

in early days to the region between the five rivers Indus, Jelum,

Chenab, Ravee, and Sutlej. Tho Punjaub is somewhat triangular in shape,

extending from the Himalaya and Cashmere as a northern base to an apex

where the five rivers have all coalesced into one. It is about equal in

area to England and Scotland without Wales. The northern part is rugged

and mountainous; the southern almost without a hill, comprising the

several ‘Doabs’ between the rivers. The natural facilities for inland

navigation and for irrigation are great; and these, aided by artificial

channels, render the Punjaub one of the most promising regions in India.

If the Beas, an affluent of the Sutlej, be added to the five rivers

above named, then there are five Doabs or tongues of land between the

six rivers, named severally the Doabs of Jullundur, Baree, Rechna,

Jetch, and Sinde Sagur, in their order from east to west. The Baree

Doab, between the rivers Beas and Ravee, is the most populous and

important, containing as it does the three cities of Lahore, Umritsir,

and Moultan.

The population of this country is a very mixed one; the Punjaub having

been a battle-ground whereon Hindoos from the east and Mohammedans from

the west have often met; and as the conquerors all partially settled on

their conquests, many races are found in juxtaposition, though each

prevailing in one or other of the Doabs. For instance, the Afghans are

mostly west of the Indus; the Sikhs, in the Baree Doab; and so on. The

inhabitants exceed ten millions in number; nearly two-thirds of them are

Mohammedans—a very unusual ratio in India. The Sikhs, however, are the

most interesting constituent in this population. They are a kind of

Hindoo dissenters, differing from other Hindoos chiefly in these three

points—the renunciation of caste, the admission of proselytes, and the

practice of the military art by nearly all the males. They trace their

origin to one Nanac, who was born in 1469 in a village about sixty miles

from Lahore; he founded a new religion, or a new modification of

Brahminism; and his followers gave him the designation of _Guru_ or

‘spiritual pastor,’ while they took to themselves that of _Sikhs_ or

‘disciples.’ After many contests with the Mohammedans of the Punjaub,

the Sikhs ceased to have a spiritual leader, but acquired temporal

power—some assuming the general surname or tribe-name of _Singh_ or

‘lion,’ to denote their military prowess; while the rest became

_Khalasas_, adherents to the more peaceful and religious doctrines of

Nanac. Some of the Singhs are Akalis, a sort of warlike priests. The

Sikhs are more robust than the generality of Hindoos, and more

enterprising; but they are more illiterate, and speak a jargon composed

of scraps from a multitude of languages.

Such being the country, and such the inhabitants, we have next to see

how the British gained influence in that quarter. From the eleventh

century until the year 1768 the Mohammedans—Afghans, Gorians, Moguls,

and other tribes—ruled in the Punjaub; but in that year the Sikhs, who

had gradually been growing in power, gained the ascendency in the region

eastward of the Jelum. At the close of the last century an adventurer,

named Runjeet Singh, a Sikh of the Jât tribe, became ruler of the

district around the city of Lahore; and from that time the Sikh power

was in the ascendant. The Sikhs constituted a turbulent and irregular

republic; holding, in cases of emergency, a parliament called the

Guru-mata at Umritsir; but at other times engaged in petty warfare

against each other. Runjeet Singh was ambitious of putting down these

competitors for power. He built at Umritsir the great fort of

Govindgurh, ostensibly to protect, but actually to overawe and control

some of the chieftains. In 1809 he crossed the Sutlej, and waged war

against some of the Sikh chieftains of Sirhind who had obtained British

protection. This led, not to a war, but to a treaty; by which Runjeet

agreed to keep to the west of the Sutlej, and the British not to molest

him there. This treaty, with a constancy rare in Asia, the chief of

Lahore respected throughout the whole of his long career: maintaining a

friendly intercourse with the British. In other directions, however, he

waged ruthless war. He conquered Moultan, then Peshawur, then the

Derajat, then Cashmere, then Middle Tibet, then Little Tibet, and

finally became Maharajah of the Sikhs. In 1831 an interview, conducted

with gorgeous splendour, took place between Runjeet Singh and Lord

Auckland, in which the governor-general strengthened the ties of amity

with the great Sikh. Runjeet died in 1839, and his son and grandson in

1840. From that year a total change of affairs ensued; competitors for

the throne appeared; then followed warlike contests; and then a period

of such excessive anarchy and lawlessness that British as well as Sikh

territory became spoliated by various chieftains. War was declared in

1845, during which it required all the daring and skill of the victors

at Moodkee, Ferozshah, Aliwal, and Sobraon, to subdue the fierce and

warlike Sikhs. This was ended by a treaty, signed in March 1846; but the

treaty was so frequently broken by the chieftains, that another war

broke out in 1848, marked by the battles of Moultan, Chillianwalla, and

Gujerat. Then ended the Sikh power. The British took the Punjaub in full

sovereignty, dated from the 29th of March 1849. Commissioners were

appointed, to organise a thoroughly new system of government; and it was

herein that Sir Henry Lawrence so greatly distinguished himself. In less

than three years from that date, the progress made towards peaceful

government was so great, that the court of directors enumerated them in

a eulogistic dispatch to the governor in council. The progress was one

of uninterrupted improvement from 1849 to 1857; and it will ever remain

a bright page in the East India Company’s records that, finding the

Punjaub a prey to wild licence and devastating intrigues, the Company

converted it into a peaceful and prosperous country. The reward for this

was received when the rest of Northern India was in a mutinous state. It

may here be stated that, when the Punjaub was annexed, a distinct

arrangement was made with Cashmere. This interesting country, almost

buried among the Himalaya and its offshoots, is one of the few regions

in India which have suffered more from natural calamities than from the

ravages of man; its population has been diminished from eight hundred

thousand to two hundred thousand in the course of thirty years, by a

distressing succession of pestilences, earthquakes, and famines. It was

governed by Mohammedans during about five centuries; and was then held

by the Sikhs from 1819 till the end of their power. Circumstances

connected with the annexation of the Punjaub led to the assignment of

Cashmere as a rajahship to Gholab Singh, one of the Sikh chieftains; he

was to be an independent prince, subsidiary to the British so far as

concerned a contingent of troops. The two Tibets were abandoned by the

Sikhs before the date when British sovereignty crossed the Sutlej.

For administrative purposes, the Punjaub has been separated into eight

divisions—Lahore, Jelum, Moultan, Leia, Peshawur, Jullundur, Hoshyapoor,

and Kangra; of which the Lahore division alone contains three millions

and a half of souls. Each division comprises several revenue and

judicial districts. For military purposes, the divisions are only two,

those of Lahore and Peshawur, each under a general commandant.

[Illustration:

SIR JOHN LAWRENCE.

]

In the middle of May 1857, when the mutinies began, Sir John Lawrence,

who had been knighted for his eminent services while with his brother

Sir Henry, and had succeeded him as chief-commissioner in the Punjaub,

was absent from the capital of that country. He was at Rawul Pindee, a

station between Lahore and Peshawur; but happily he had left behind him

men who had learned and worked with his brother and himself, and who

acted with a promptness and vigour worthy of all praise. To understand

what was done, we must attend to the city and cantonment of Lahore. This

famous capital of the Punjaub is situated about a mile east of the river

Ravee. It contains many large and handsome buildings—such as the Padshah

Mosque, said to have been built by Aurungzebe, but converted into a

barrack by Runjeet Singh, who cared little about mosques; the Vizier

Khan Mosque, once celebrated for its lofty minarets, but afterwards

desecrated by the Sikhs in being used as stables for horses and shambles

for swine; the Sonara Mosque; and many other Mohammedan mosques and

Hindoo temples. Beyond the limits of the city are the large and

once-magnificent tomb of the Emperor Jehanghire; the tomb of Anarkalli;

and the exquisite garden of Shahjehan, the Shalimar or ‘House of Joy’—at

one time the pride of the Mussulmans of Lahore, with its three marble

terraces and its four hundred marble fountains, but afterwards

ruthlessly despoiled of its marble by Runjeet Singh, to adorn Umritsir.

Lahore presents every trace of having been a much larger city before the

time of the Sikh domination; for the ruins of palaces, serais, and

mosques spread over a great area. The city now contains about a hundred

thousand inhabitants, a great declension from its population in former

days. Considered in a military sense, Lahore is surrounded by a brick

wall, formerly twenty-five feet high, but recently lowered. Runjeet

Singh ran a trench round the wall, constructed a line of works, mounted

the works with many cannon, and cleared away many ruins. This line of

fortification exceeds seven miles in circuit; and within the northwest

angle is a fort or citadel, containing extensive magazines and

manufactories of warlike stores.

From evidence educed at different times, it appears certain that many of

the native troops in the Punjaub were cognizant of a conspiracy among

the ‘Poorbeahs,’ by which name the sepoys of the eastern regions are

known to the inhabitants of the Punjaub; and that they held themselves

ready to join in any mutiny arising out of such conspiracy. How the

authorities checked this conspiracy, was strikingly shewn by the

proceedings at different stations immediately after news arrived of

disaster in the eastern provinces. We will rapidly glance in succession

at Lahore, Umritsir, Ferozpore, Jullundur, and Phillour; and will then

proceed to the Peshawur region. The British military cantonment for the

city of Lahore was six miles distant, at a place called Meean Meer;

where were stationed three native infantry regiments, and one of

cavalry, the Queen’s 81st foot, two troops of horse-artillery, and four

reserve companies of foot-artillery. In the fort, within the city-walls,

were half a native infantry regiment, a company of Europeans, and a

company of foot-artillery. The plot, so far as concerned the Punjaub, is

believed to have been this.[30] On a particular day, when one wing of a

native regiment at the fort was to be exchanged for another, there

would, at a particular moment, be about eleven hundred sepoys present;

they were to rise suddenly, murder their officers, and seize the gates;

take possession of the citadel, the magazine, and the treasury;

overpower the Europeans and artillery, only a hundred and fifty men in

all; and kindle a huge bonfire as a signal to Meean Meer. All the native

troops in cantonment were then to rise, seize the guns, force the

central jail, liberate two thousand prisoners, and then commence an

indiscriminate massacre of European military and civilians. The other

great stations in that part of the Punjaub—Umritsir, Ferozpore,

Jullundur, Phillour—were all in the plot, and the native troops at these

places were to rise in mutiny about the 15th of May. There were many

proofs, in the Punjaub and elsewhere, that the plotters at Meerut began

a little too early for their own object; the scheme was not quite ripe

at other places, else the English might have been almost entirely

annihilated throughout the northern half of India.

The authorities at Lahore knew nothing of this plot as a whole, though

they possibly observed symptoms of restlessness among the native

troops. When the crisis arrived, however, they proved themselves equal

to the difficulties of their position. On the 10th of May, the

outbreak at Meerut occurred; on the 11th an obscure telegram reached

Lahore, telling of some disaster; on the 12th the real nature of the

affair became known. Sir John Lawrence being at Rawul Pindee, the

other authorities—Mr Montgomery, Mr M’Leod, Mr Roberts, Colonel

Macpherson, Colonel Lawrence (another member of this distinguished

family), Major Ommaney, and Captain Hutchinson—instantly formed a sort

of council of war; at which they agreed on a plan, which was assented

to by Brigadier Corbett, commandant of the station at Meean Meer. This

plan was to consist in depriving the native troops of their ammunition

and percussion-caps, and placing more Europeans within the fort. A

native officer in the Sikh police corps, however, revealed to the

authorities the outlines of a conspiracy which had come to his

knowledge; and the brigadier then resolved on the complete disarming

of the native regiments—a bold step where he had so few Europeans to

assist him, but carried out with admirable promptitude and success. It

so happened that a ball was to be given that night (the 12th) by the

military officers at Meean Meer; the ball _was_ given, but

preparations of a kind very different from festive were at the same

time quietly made, wholly unknown to the sepoys. Early on the morning

of the 13th, the whole of the troops, native and European, were

ordered on parade, avowedly to hear the governor-general’s order

relating to the affairs at Barrackpore, but really that the Europeans

might disarm the natives. After this reading, a little manœuvring was

ordered, whereby the whole of the native regiments—the 16th, 26th, and

49th Bengal infantry, and the 8th Bengal cavalry—were confronted by

the guns and by five companies of the Queen’s 81st. At a given signal,

the sepoys were ordered to pile arms, and the sowars to unbuckle

sabres; they hesitated; but grape-shot and port-fires were ready—they

knew it, and they yielded. Thus were disarmed two thousand five

hundred native troops, by only six hundred British soldiers. Meanwhile

the fort was not forgotten. Major Spencer, who commanded the wing of

the 26th stationed there, had the men drawn up on parade on the

morning of that same day; three companies of the 81st entered the fort

under Captain Smith; and these three hundred British, or thereabouts,

found it no difficult task to disarm the five or six hundred sepoys.

This done, the 81st and the artillery were quickly placed at such

posts as they might most usefully strengthen—in the lines of the 81st,

on the artillery parade-ground, and in an open space in the centre of

the cantonment, where the brigadier and his staff slept every night.

The ladies and children were accommodated in the barracks; while the

regimental officers were ordered to sleep in certain selected houses

in the lines of their own regiments—regiments disarmed but not

disbanded; and professedly disarmed only as a matter of temporary

expediency. Thus was Lahore saved.

Umritsir is the next station to which attention must be directed

relatively to the Punjaub. It was an important place to hold in due

subordination, not only on account of its size and population, but for a

certain religious character that it possesses in the eyes of the Sikhs.

Umritsir or Amritsir has had a career of less than three centuries. In

1581, Ram Das, the fourth _Guru_ or spiritual pastor of the Sikhs,

ordered a reservoir or fountain to be formed at a particular spot, and

named it _Amrita Saras_, or ‘Fount of Immortality.’ This Amrita Saras or

Umritsir at once became a place of pilgrimage, and around it gradually

grew up a considerable city. One of the Mohammedan sovereigns, Ahmed

Shah, uneasy at the increasing power of the Sikhs, sought to terrify and

suppress them by an act of sacrilege at Umritsir; he blew up a sacred

shrine, filled up the sacred pool, and caused the site to be desecrated

by slaughtering kine upon it. But he miscalculated. It was this very act

which led to the supremacy of the Sikhs over the Mohammedans in the

Punjaub; they purified and refilled the pool, rebuilt the shrine, and

vowed unceasing hostility to the Mussulmans. At present, the holy place

at Umritsir is a very large square basin, in which Sikhs bathe as other

Hindoos would do in the Ganges; and in the centre, on a small island, is

a richly adorned temple, attended by five hundred Akalis or armed

priests. Considered as a city, Umritsir is large, populous, industrial,

and commercial. The most striking object in it is the Govindgurh, the

fortress which Runjeet Singh constructed in 1809, professedly to protect

the pilgrims at the sacred pool, but really to increase his power over

the Sikhs generally. Its great height and heavy batteries, rising one

above another, give it a very imposing appearance; and it has been still

further strengthened since British occupation began.

Directly the unfavourable news from Meerut was received at Lahore, or

rather immediately after the disarming at the last-named place had been

effected—a company of H.M. 81st foot, under Lieutenant Chichester, was

sent off in eckas to Umritsir, to strengthen the garrison at Govindgurh.

It was known that this fort was regarded almost in a religious light in

the Punjaub; and that if the Poorbeahs or rebellious sepoys should seize

it, the British would be lowered in the eyes of the Sikhs generally. In

the fort, and in the cantonment near the town, were two companies of

artillery, one European and one native; together with the 59th B. N. I.,

and a light field-battery. The wing of the Queen’s 81st, despatched from

Lahore on the evening of the 13th of May, reached Umritsir on the

following morning; and a company of foot-artillery, under Lieutenant

Hildebrand, intended for Phillour, was detained at Umritsir until the

authorities should feel sure of their position. The officers of the 59th

had, some time previously, discussed frankly with their men the subject

of the greased cartridges, and had encouraged them to hold a committee

of inquiry among themselves; the result of which was a distinct avowal

of their disbelief in the rumours on that unfortunate subject. It is

only just towards the regimental officers to say that the highest

authorities were as unable as themselves to account for the pertinacious

belief of the sepoys in the greased-cartridge theory; Sir John Lawrence

spoke of it as a ‘mania,’ which was to him inexplicable. With the

miscellaneous forces now at hand, the authorities made no attempt to

disarm the native regiment, but kept a watchful eye on the course of

events. On the night of the 14th, an alarm spread that the native troops

at Lahore had mutinied, and were advancing on Umritsir; the ladies and

children were at once sent into the fort, and a small force was sent out

on the Lahore road, to check the expected insurgents; but the alarm

proved to be false, and the troops returned to their quarters. Peace was

secured at Umritsir by the exercise of great sagacity. The Mohammedans

were strong in the city, but the Sikhs were stronger; and Mr Cooper, the

deputy-commissioner, succeeded in preventing either religious body from

joining the other against the British—a task requiring much knowledge of

the springs of action among the natives in general. It was not the first

time in the history of India that the British authorities had deemed it

expedient to play off the two religions against each other.

Ferozpore was not so happily managed as Lahore and Umritsir in this

exciting and perilous week; either because the materials were less

suitable to work upon, or because the mode of treatment was not so well

adapted to the circumstances. Ferozpore is not actually in the Punjaub;

it is one of the towns in Sirhind, or the Cis-Sutlej states—small in

size and somewhat mean in appearance, but important through its position

near the west bank of the Sutlej, and the large fort it comprises. In

the middle of May, this station contained H.M. 61st foot, the 45th and

57th Bengal native infantry, the 10th Bengal native cavalry, about 150

European artillery, and one light-horse field-battery, with six

field-guns—a large force, not required for Ferozpore itself, but to

control the district of which it was the centre. Ferozpore had been the

frontier British station before the annexation of the Punjaub, and had

continued to be supplied with an extensive magazine of military stores.

When Brigadier Innes heard on the 12th of May of the mutiny at Meerut,

he ordered all the native troops on parade, that he and his officers

might, if possible, judge of their loyalty by their demeanour. The

examination was in great part, though not wholly, satisfactory. At noon

on the 13th the disastrous news from Delhi arrived. The intrenched

magazine within the fort was at that time guarded by a company of the

57th; and the brigadier, rendered somewhat uneasy on this matter,

planned a new disposition of the troops. There had been many ‘cartridge’

meetings held among the men, and symptoms appeared that a revolt was

intended. The relative positions of all the military were as follows: In

the middle of the fort was the intrenched magazine, guarded as just

stated; outside the fort, on the west, were the officers’ bungalows and

the official buildings; still further to the west were the sepoy lines

of the 45th and 57th; northward of these lines were the artillery

barracks; still further north were the lines of the cavalry; south of

the fort were the barracks of the European regiment; on the north of the

fort was the Sudder Bazaar; while eastward of it was an open place or

_maîdan_. The brigadier sought to avert danger by separating the two

native regiments; but the Queen’s 61st, by the general arrangements of

the cantonment, were too far distant to render the proper service at the

proper moment. The 45th were to be removed to an open spot northeast of

the cantonment, and the 57th to another open space on the south, two

miles distant; the native cavalry were to take up a position near their

own lines; the 61st were to encamp near the south wall of the fort;

while one company, with artillery and guns, was to be placed within the

fort. After a parade of the whole force, on the afternoon of the 13th,

each corps was ordered to the camping-ground allotted for it. The 57th

obeyed at once, but some companies of the 45th, while marching through

the bazaar, refused to go any further, stopped, loaded their muskets,

and prepared for resistance; they ran towards the fort, clambered over a

dilapidated part of the ramparts, and advanced towards the magazine,

where scaling-ladders were thrown over to them by a company of the 57th

who had been on guard inside. This clearly shewed complicity to exist. A

short but severe conflict ensued. Captain Lewis and Major Redmond had

only a few Europeans with them, but they promptly attacked the

mutineers, drove out the 45th, and made prisoners the treacherous guard

of the 57th. All was now right in the fort and magazine, but not in the

cantonment. About two hundred men of the 45th commenced a system of

burning and looting; officers’ bungalows, mess-houses, hospitals, the

church—all were fired. Many isolated acts of heroism were performed by

individual Europeans, but no corps was sent against the ruffians.

Fortunately, a powder-magazine beyond the cavalry lines, containing the

enormous quantity of three hundred thousand pounds of gunpowder, did not

fall into the hands of the rebels; it might have done so, for no

preparations had been made to defend it. All this time the Queen’s

troops chafed at their enforced inaction; their camping-ground had been

so badly chosen that they dared not in a body attack the 45th lest the

57th should in the meantime surprise them in the rear; and there is no

evidence that they were ordered to do what any English regiment would

cheerfully have undertaken—divide into two wings, each to confront a

whole regiment of sepoys. During the night and the following morning

nearly all the sepoys decamped, some with arms and some without.

Ferozpore was saved for the present; but mutinous proceedings were

encouraged at Jullundur, Jelum, and Sealkote, by the escape of the 45th

and 57th; and the brigadier fell into disgrace for his mismanagement of

this affair. He had only just arrived to take command of that station,

and it may be that he was on this account less able to judge correctly

the merits or demerits of the forces placed at his disposal.

Jullundur, which gives name to the Jullundur Doab between the Sutlej and

the Beas, is another of this group of stations. It is situated on the

high road from Umballa and Umritsir to Lahore; and was formerly the

capital of an Afghan dynasty in the Punjaub. Although shorn of much of

its former greatness, it is still an important and flourishing town,

with forty thousand inhabitants. Jullundur received the news from Meerut

on the 11th of May, and immediately precautionary measures were taken.

Brigadier-general Johnstone, the commandant, being absent at the time, a

plan was at once formed by Colonel Hartley of H.M. 8th foot, and Captain

Farrington, the deputy-commissioner, and agreed to by all the other

officers. The station at that time contained H.M. 8th foot, the 6th

light cavalry, the 36th and 61st native infantry, and one troop of

horse-artillery. The chief officers in command were Colonels Longfield

and Hartley, Majors Barton, Innes, and Olpherts, and Captain Faddy. When

the telegraph of the 12th of May confirmed the Meerut news of the 11th,

it was resolved at once to control the native troops at Jullundur, and

to disarm them if mutinous symptoms should appear. Part of the Queen’s

troops were marched into the artillery lines; the guns were pointed at

the lines of the native regiments in such a way as to render the sepoys

and sowars somewhat uneasy; two field-guns were kept with horses ready

harnessed for movement; careful patrolling was maintained during the

night; and the ladies and children were safely if not comfortably placed

in barracks and rooms guarded by their own countrymen. Captain

Farrington was placed in charge of the civil lines, the public

buildings, and the town generally; and most fortunate was it for him,

and the English generally, that the native Rajah of Jullundur, Rundheer

Singh Alloowalla, remained friendly. This prince had been deprived of

part of his territory at the period of the annexation of the Punjaub,

but the deprivation had not rendered him hostile to his powerful

superiors; he promptly aided Farrington with guns and men, instead of

throwing in his lot with the mutineers. Jullundur, like Lahore,

Umritsir, and Ferozpore, was saved for the present.

Phillour, the fifth station in this remarkable group, was in one sense

more perilously placed than any of the others, owing to its nearer

proximity to the mutineers of Meerut and Delhi. It stands on the right

bank of the Sutlej, on the great high road from Umballa and Loodianah to

Umritsir and Lahore. Phillour is of no account as a town, but of great

importance as a military station on the frontier of the Punjaub, and as

commanding the passage of the grand trunk-road across the Sutlej. At the

time of the mutiny it had a magazine containing a vast supply of warlike

material, without any European troops whatever. The adjoining cantonment

contained one native regiment, of which one company guarded the fort and

magazine. The military authorities all over the Punjaub and Sirhind well

knew that Phillour contained munitions of war that would be most

perilous in the hands of mutineers. Lieutenant Hildebrand, as was lately

stated, was sent from Lahore with a company of artillery to Phillour;

but he stopped on the way to aid the operations at Umritsir. When the

news from Meerut arrived, Colonel Butler made such precautionary

arrangements as he could at the lines, while Lieutenant Griffith looked

watchfully after the fort and arsenal. Securing the telegraph, in order

that the sepoys of the 3d native infantry might not tamper with it, they

communicated with Jullundur, and were rejoiced to find that a small

force was about to be despatched from that place for their relief. As

soon as the authorities at the last named station became aware of the

insurgent proceedings, they determined, besides attending to the safety

of their own station, to aid Phillour; they sent a telegraphic officer

to make such arrangements as would keep the wire in working order; they

sent a message to Loodianah, to warn the deputy-commissioner to guard

the bridge of boats across the Sutlej; and they sent a small but compact

force to Phillour. This force consisted of a detachment of the Queen’s

8th foot, two horse-artillery guns, spare men and horses for the

artillery, and a small detachment of the 2d Punjaub cavalry. Knowing

that this welcome force was on the road, Colonel Butler and Lieutenant

Griffith sought to maintain tranquillity in Phillour during the night;

they closed the fort-gate at sunset; they placed a loaded light

field-piece just within the gate, with port-fires kept burning; and the

little band of Europeans remained on watch all night. At daybreak their

succour arrived; the force from Jullundur, commanded by Major Baines and

Lieutenants Sankey, Dobbin, and Probyn, marched the twenty-four miles of

distance without a single halt. The guns and cavalry, being intended

only as an escort on the road, and to aid in recovering the fort in the

event of its having been captured by the sepoys during the night,

returned to Jullundur, together with fifty of the infantry. The actual

reinforcement, therefore, was about a hundred of H.M. 8th foot, and a

few gunners to work the fort-guns if necessary. The little garrison

opened the fort-gates to admit this reinforcement—much to the dismay of

the sepoys in the cantonment; for, as was afterwards ascertained, a plot

had been formed whereby the fort was to be quietly taken possession of

on the 15th of the month, and used as a rendezvous for the sepoy

regiments in the Punjaub, when they had risen in mutiny, and formed a

system of tactics in reference to the great focus of rebellion at Delhi.

Thus were the days from the 11th to the 14th of May days of critical

importance in the eastern part of the Punjaub. Evidence almost

conclusive was obtained that the 15th was intended to have been a day of

grand mutiny among the Bengal sepoys stationed in that region: the

regimental officers knew nothing of this; some of them would not believe

it, even at the time of the disarming; but the current of belief tended

in that direction afterwards. There is very little doubt, as already

implied, that the Meerut outbreak occurred before the plans were ready

elsewhere; that event seemed to the British, and rightly so, a dreadful

one; but, if delayed five days, it would probably have been followed by

the shedding of an amount of European blood frightful to contemplate.

Having noticed the prompt measures taken at Lahore, Umritsir, Ferozpore,

Jullundur, and Phillour, shortly before the middle of May; it will be

useful, before tracing the course of subsequent revolt in some of the

eastern Punjaub stations, to attend to the state of affairs in the

western division, of which Peshawur was the chief city.

Peshawur was beyond the limits of British India until the annexation of

the Punjaub. Situated as it is on the main road from the Indus at Attock

to the Indian Caucasus range at the Khyber Pass, it has for ages been

regarded as an important military position, commanding one of the gates

of India. The Afghans and other Mohammedan tribes generally made their

irruptions into India by this route. During the complexities of Indian

politics and warfare, Peshawur passed from the hands of the Afghans to

those of the Sikhs, and then to the British, who proceeded to make it

the head-quarters of a military division. Peshawur had been so

ruthlessly treated by Runjeet Singh, after his capture of that place in

1818, that its fine Moslem buildings were mostly destroyed, its commerce

damaged, and its population diminished. At present, its inhabitants are

believed to be about sixty thousand in number. The fort is very strong;

it consists of lofty walls, round towers at the angles, semicircular

ravelins in front, faussebraies of substantial towers and walls, a wet

ditch, and one only gateway guarded by towers; within the enclosure are

capacious magazines and storehouses.

When the mutiny began, the Peshawur division contained about fourteen

thousand troops of all arms. A peculiar military system was found

necessary in this division, owing to the large proportion of

semi-civilised marauders among the inhabitants. The western frontier is

hilly throughout, being formed of the Indian Caucasus and the Suliman

Range, and being pierced by only a few roads, of which the Khyber Pass

and the Bolan Pass are the most famous. These passes and roads are for

the most part under the control of hardy mountaineers, who care very

little for any regular governments, whether Afghan, Sikh, or British,

and who require constant watching. Many of these men had been induced to

accept British pay as irregular horsemen; and Colonel (formerly Major)

Edwardes acquired great distinction for his admirable management of

these rough materials. The fourteen thousand troops in the Peshawur

division of the Punjaub comprised about three thousand European infantry

and artillery, eight thousand Bengal native infantry, three thousand

Bengal native cavalry and artillery, and a few Punjaubees and hill-men.

These were stationed at Peshawur, Nowsherah, Hoti Murdan, and the

frontier forts at the foot of the hills. Major-general Reid was chief

military authority at Peshawur. On the 13th of May he received

telegraphic news of the mutiny at Meerut and of the disarming at Lahore,

and immediately held a council of war, attended by himself, Brigadiers

Cotton and Neville Chamberlain, Colonels Edwardes and Nicholson.

Edwardes was chief-commissioner and superintendent of the Peshawur

division, besides being a military officer. It was resolved that, as

senior military officer in the Punjaub, General Reid should assume chief

command, and that his head-quarters should be with those of the Punjaub

civil government, at Lahore or elsewhere; while Cotton should command in

the Peshawur division. The council also agreed that, besides providing

as far as was possible for the safety of each station individually, a

‘movable column’ should be formed at Jelum, a station on the great road

about midway between Lahore and Peshawur—ready to move on any point in

the Punjaub where mutinous symptoms might appear. This force, it will be

seen,[31] was made up of a singular variety of troops, comprising all

arms of the service, irregulars as well as regulars, Europeans as well

as natives; but the Oudian or ‘Poorbeah’ element was almost wholly

absent, and by this absence was the efficiency of the column really

estimated. Various arrangements were at the same time made for so

distributing the European troops as to afford them the best control over

the sepoy regiments. At Peshawur itself, the Company’s treasure was sent

into the fort for safety, and the Residency was made the head-quarters

of the military authorities.

On the 21st of May, news reached Peshawur that the 55th Bengal native

infantry—encouraged probably by the withdrawal of the 27th foot from

Nowsherah to aid in forming the movable column—had mutinied at Murdan on

the preceding day, keeping their officers under strict surveillance, but

not molesting them; and that Colonel Spottiswoode, their commander, had

put an end to his existence through grief and mortification at this act.

The crisis being perilous, it was at once resolved to disarm the native

troops at Peshawur, or so much of them as excited most suspicion. This

was successfully accomplished on the morning of the 22d—much to the

chagrin of the officers of the disbanded regiments, who, here as

elsewhere, were among the last to admit the probability of

insubordination among their own troops. The 24th, 27th, and 51st

regiments of Bengal native infantry, and the 5th of light cavalry, were

on this occasion deprived of their arms; and a subadar-major of the 51st

was hanged in presence of all his companions in arms. The disarming was

effected by a clever distribution of the reliable forces; small parties

of European artillery and cavalry being confronted with each regiment,

in such way as to prevent aid being furnished by one to another. The men

were disarmed, but not allowed to desert, on pain of instant death if

caught making the attempt; and they were kept constantly watched by a

small force of Europeans, and by a body of irregular troopers who had no

sympathy whatever with Hindustanis. This done, a relieving force was at

once sent off to Murdan; a step which would have been dangerous while

sepoy troops still remained so strong at Peshawur. The small force of

Europeans and irregulars was found to be sufficient for this duty; it

arrived at Murdan, attacked the mutinous 55th, killed or captured two

hundred, and drove the rest away. These misguided insurgents ill

calculated the fate in store for them. Knowing that Mohammedan

hill-tribes were near at hand, and that those tribes had often been

hostile to the English, they counted on sympathy and support, but met

with defeat and death. The chivalrous Edwardes, who had so distinguished

himself in the Punjaub war, had gained a powerful influence among the

half-trained mountaineers on the Afghan border. While the detachment

from Peshawur was pursuing and cutting down many of the mutineers, the

hill-men were at that very time coming to Edwardes to ask for military

employment. These hill-men hated the Brahmins, and had something like

contempt for traitors; when, therefore, Edwardes sent them against the

mutineers, the latter soon found out their fatal error. ‘The petted

sepoy,’ says one who was in the Punjaub at the time, ‘whose every whim

had been too much consulted for forty years—who had been ready to murder

his officer, to dishonour his officer’s wife, and rip in pieces his

officer’s child, sooner than bite the end of a cartridge which he well

knew had _not_ been defiled—was now made to eat the bread and drink the

water of affliction: to submit at the hazard of his wretched life, which

he still tenaciously clung to, to ceremonies the least of which was more

damning to his caste than the mastication of a million of fat

cartridges.’ Even this was not the end; for the sepoys were brought back

to the British cantonment, in fives and tens, and there instantly put to

death; no quarter was given to men who shewed neither justice nor mercy

to others. There were other forts in the Peshawur Valley similar to that

at Murdan, places held by native regiments, in which little or no

reliance could be placed. There were four native regiments altogether in

these minor forts; and it became necessary to disarm these before the

safety of the British could be insured. Peshawur contained its full

Asiatic proportion of desperate scoundrels, who would have begun to

_loot_ at any symptom of discomfiture of the paramount power.

When this disarming of the native troops at the surrounding forts had

been effected, the authorities at Peshawur continued to look sharply

after the native troops at this important station. The disarmed 5th

irregular cavalry, having refused to go against the 55th at Murdan, were

at once and successfully disbanded. By a dexterous manœuvre, the

troopers were deprived of horses, weapons, coats, and boots, while the

mouths of cannon were gaping at them; they were then sent off in boats

down the Indus, with a hint to depart as far as possible from any

military stations. The authorities in the Punjaub, like Neill at Benares

and Allahabad, believed that mercy to the sepoys would be cruelty to all

besides at such a time; they shot, hanged, or blew away from guns with

terrible promptness, all who were found to be concerned in mutinous

proceedings. On one occasion a letter was intercepted, revealing the

fact that three natives of high rank (giving names) were to sit in

council on the morrow to decide what to do against the British; a

telegraphic message was sent off to Sir John Lawrence, for advice how to

act; a message was returned: ‘Let a spy attend and report;’ this was

done, and a plot discovered; another question brought back another

telegram: ‘Hang them all three;’ and in a quarter of an hour the hanging

was completed. The importance of retaining artillery in European hands

was strongly felt at Peshawur; to effect this, after many guns had been

sent away to strengthen the moving column, a hundred and sixty European

volunteers from the infantry were quickly trained to the work, and

placed in charge of a horse-battery of six guns, half the number on

horseback, and the other half sitting on the guns and wagons—all

actively put in training day after day to learn their new duties.

Fearful work the European gunners had sometimes to perform. Forty men of

the 55th regiment were ‘blown from guns’ in three days. An officer

present on the occasion says: ‘Three sides of a square were formed, ten

guns pointed outwards, the sentence of the court read, a prisoner bound

to each gun, the signal given, and the salvo fired. Such a scene I hope

never again to witness—human trunks, heads, arms, legs flying about in

all directions. All met their fate with firmness but two; so to save

time they were dropped to the ground, and their brains blown out by

musketry.’ It sounds strangely to English ears that such a terrible

death should occasionally be mentioned as a _concession_ or matter of

favour; yet such was the case. Mr Montgomery, judicial commissioner of

the Punjaub, issued an address to one of the native regiments, two

sepoys of which had been blown away from guns for mutinous conduct. He

exhorted them to fidelity, threatened them with the consequences of

insubordination, and added: ‘You have just seen two men of your regiment

blown from guns. This is the punishment I will inflict on all traitors

and mutineers; and your consciences will tell you what punishment they

may expect hereafter. These men have been blown from guns, and not

hanged, because they were Brahmins, and _because I wished to save them

from the pollution of the hangman’s touch_; and thus prove to you that

the British government does not wish to injure your caste and religion.’

The treachery and cruelty of the mutinous sepoys soon dried up all this

tenderness as to the mode in which they would prefer to be put to death.

We have seen Neill at Cawnpore, after the revelation of the horrors in

the slaughter-room, compelling the Brahmin rebels to pollute themselves

by wiping up the gore they had assisted to shed, as a means of striking

horror into the hearts of miscreant Brahmins elsewhere.

In addition to the severe measures for preserving obedience, other

precautions were taken involving no shedding of blood. A new levy of

Punjaubee troopers was obtained by Edwardes from the Moultan region; the

disarmed sepoys were removed from their lines, and made to encamp in a

spot where they could be constantly watched; a land-transport train was

organised, for the conveyance of European troops from place to place;

the fort was strengthened, provisioned, and guarded against all

surprises; the artillery park was defended by an earthwork; and trusty

officers were sent out in various directions to obtain recruits for

local irregular corps—enlisting men rough in bearing and unscrupulous in

morals, but who knew when they were well commanded, and who had no kind

of affection for Hindustanis. Thus did Cotton, Edwardes, Nicholson, and

the other officers, energetically carry out plans that kept Peshawur at

peace, and enabled Sir John Lawrence to send off troops in aid of the

force besieging Delhi. Colonel Edwardes, it may here be stated, had been

in Calcutta in the month of March; and had there heard that Sikhs in

some of the Bengal regiments were taking their discharge, as if

foreseeing some plot then in preparation; this confirmed his

predilection for Punjaub troops over ‘Poorbeahs.’ The activity in

raising troops in the remotest northwest corner of India appears to have

been a double benefit to the British; for it provided a serviceable body

of hardy troops, and it gratified the natives of the Peshawur Valley.

This matter was adverted to in a letter written by Edwardes. ‘This post

(Peshawur), so far from being more arduous in future, will be more

secure. Events here have taken a wonderful turn. During peace, Peshawur

was an incessant anxiety; now it is the strongest point in India. We

have struck two great blows—we have disarmed our own troops, and have

raised levies of all the people of the country. The troops (sepoys) are

confounded; they calculated on being backed by the people. The people

are delighted, and a better feeling has sprung up between them and us in

this enlistment than has ever been obtained before. I have also called

on my old country, the Derajat, and it is quite delightful to see how

the call is answered. Two thousand horsemen, formerly in my army at

Moultan, are now moving on different points, according to order, to help

us in this difficulty; and every post brings me remonstrances from

chiefs as to why they have been forgotten. This is really gratifying.’

It may be here stated that Sir John Lawrence, about the end of May,

suggested to Viscount Canning by telegraph the expediency of allowing

Bengal sepoys to retire from the army and receive their pay, if they

preferred so doing, and if they had not been engaged in mutinous

proceedings—as a means of sifting the good from the bad; but Canning

thought this would be dangerous east of the Sutlej; and it does not

appear to have been acted on anywhere.

These exertions were materially aided by the existence of a remarkable

police system in the Punjaub—one of the benefits which the Lawrences and

their associates introduced. The Punjaub police was of three kinds.

First was the _military_ police, consisting of two corps of irregular

infantry, seven battalions of foot, one regiment cavalry, and

twenty-seven troops of horse—amounting altogether to about thirteen

thousand men. These men were thoroughly disciplined, and were ready at

all times to encounter the marauding tribes from the mountains. Then

came the _civil_ police, comprising about nine thousand men, and

distributed over nearly three hundred thannahs or subordinate

jurisdictions, to protect thirty thousand villages and small places: the

men were armed with swords and carbines. Lastly were the _constabulary_,

thirteen hundred men in the cities, and thirty thousand in the rural

districts; these were a sort of watchmen, dressed in a plain drab

uniform, and carrying only a staff and a spear. This large police army

of more than fifty thousand men was not only efficient, when well

officered, in maintaining tranquillity, but furnished excellent recruits

for regiments of Sikh and Punjaubee soldiers.

Sir John Lawrence issued a vigorous proclamation, encouraging the native

troops to remain faithful, and threatening them with dire consequences

if they revolted; but from the first he relied very little on such

appeals to the Bengal troops. Leaving this subject, however, and

directing attention to those events only which bore with any weight on

the progress of the mutiny, we shall now rapidly glance at Punjaub

affairs in the summer months. Many struggles took place, too slight to

require much notice. One was the disarming of a native regiment at

Noorpore. Another, on June 13th, was the execution of twelve men at

Ferozpore, belonging to the 45th N. I., for mutiny after being disarmed.

It was early in June that the station at Jullundur became a prey to

insurgent violence. On the 3d of the month, a fire broke out in the

lines of the 61st native infantry—a bad symptom wherever it occurred in

those days. On the following night a hospital was burned. On the 6th,

the 4th regiment Sikh infantry marched into the station, as well as a

native troop of horse-artillery; but, owing to some uneasiness displayed

by the Bengal troops, the Sikh regiment was removed to another

station—as if the brigadier in command were desirous not to offend or

irritate the petted regiments from the east. At eleven o’clock at night

on the 7th, the close of a quiet Sunday—again Sunday!—a sudden alarm of

fire was given, and a lurid glare was seen over the lines of the 36th

native infantry. The officers rushed to their respective places; and

then it was found that the 6th native cavalry, wavering for a time, had

at last given way to the mutinous impulse that guided the 36th and 61st

infantry, and that all three regiments were threatening the officers.

The old sad story might again be told; the story of some of the officers

being shot as they spoke and appealed to the fidelity of their men; of

others being shot at or sabred as they ran or rode across the

parade-ground; of ladies and children being affrighted at the artillery

barracks, where they had been wont to sleep for greater security. The

mutineers had evidently expected the native artillery to join them; but

fortunately these latter were so dove-tailed with the European

artillery, and were so well looked after by a company of the 8th foot,

that they could not mutiny if they would. All the Europeans who fled to

the artillery barracks and lines were safe; the guns protected them. The

mutineers, after an hour or two of the usual mischief, made off. About

one half the cavalry regiment mutinied, but as all confidence was lost

in them, the rest were deprived of horses and arms, and the regiment

virtually ceased to exist. The officers were overwhelmed with

astonishment and mortification; some of them had gone to rest on that

evening in perfect reliance on their men. One of the cavalry officers

afterwards said: ‘Some of our best men have proved the most active in

this miserable business. A rough rider in my troop, who had been riding

my charger in the morning, and had played with my little child, was one

of the men who charged the guns.’ This officer, like many others, had no

other theory to offer than that his troopers mutinied in a ‘panic,’

arising from the sinister rumours that ran like wildfire through the

lines and bazaars of the native troops, shaking the fidelity of those

who had not previously taken part in any conspiracy. It was the only

theory which their bitterness of heart allowed them to contemplate with

any calmness; for few military men could admit without deep

mortification that they had been ignorant of, and deceived by, their own

soldiers down to the very last moment.

While a portion of the 6th cavalry remained, disarmed and unhorsed but

not actually disbanded, at Jullundur, the two regiments and a half of

mutineers marched off towards Phillour, as if bound for Delhi. At the

instant the mutiny began, a telegraphic message had been sent from

Jullundur to Phillour, to break the bridge of boats over the Sutlej, and

thereby prevent the rebels from crossing from the Punjaub into Sirhind.

Unfortunately, the telegraphic message failed to reach the officer to

whom it was sent. The 3d regiment Bengal native cavalry, at Phillour,

might, as the commanding officer at that time thought, have been

maintained in discipline if the Jullundur mutineers had not disturbed

them; but when the 36th and 61st native infantry, and the 6th cavalry

were approaching, all control was found to be lost. The telegraphic

wires being cut, no news could reach Phillour, and thus the insurgents

from Jullundur made their appearance wholly unexpected—by the Europeans,

if not by the troopers. The ladies and families were at once hastened

off from the cantonment to the fort, which had just before been

garrisoned by a hundred men of H.M. 8th foot. The officers then went on

parade, where they found themselves unable to bring the 3d regiment to a

sense of their duty; the men promised to keep their hands clear of

murder, but they would not fight against the approaching rebels from

Jullundur. The officers then returned to the fort powerless; for the

handful of Europeans there, though sufficient to defend the fort, were

unable to encounter four mutinous regiments in the cantonment. In a day

or two, all the ladies and children were sent off safely to the hills;

and the cavalry officers were left without immediate duties. The tactics

of the brigadier at Jullundur were at that crisis somewhat severely

criticised. It was considered that he ought to have made such

arrangements as would have prevented the mutineers from crossing the

Sutlej. He followed them, with such a force as he could spare or

collect; but while he was planning to cut off the bridge of boats that

spanned the Sutlej between Phillour and Loodianah, they avoided that

spot altogether; they crossed the river six miles further up, and

proceeded on their march towards Delhi—attacked at certain places by

Europeans and by Sikhs, but not in sufficient force to frustrate their

purpose.

Although belonging to a region east of the Punjaub, it may be well

here to notice another of the June mutinies nearer the focus of

disaffection. One of the regiments that took its officers by surprise

in mutinying was the 60th B. N. I.; of which the head-quarters had

been at Umballa, but which was at Bhotuck, only three marches from

Delhi, when the fidelity of the men gave way. One of the English

officers, expressing his utter astonishment at this result, said: ‘All

gone! The men that we so trusted; my own men, with whom I have shot,

played cricket, jumped, entered into all their sports, and treated so

kindly!’ He thought it almost cruel to subject that regiment to such

temptation as would be afforded by close neighbourhood with the

mutineers at Delhi. But, right or wrong, the temptation was afforded,

and proved too strong to be resisted. It afterwards became known that

the 60th received numerous letters and messages from within Delhi,

entreating them to join the national cause against the Kaffir

Feringhees. On the 11th of June, the sepoys suddenly rose, and fired a

volley at a tent within which many of the officers were at mess, but

fortunately without fatal results. Many of the officers at once

galloped off to the camp outside Delhi, feeling they might be more

useful there than with a mutinous regiment; while others stayed a

while, in the vain hope of bringing the men back to a sense of their

duty. After plundering the mess of the silver-plate and the wine, and

securing the treasure-chest, the mutineers made off for Delhi. Here,

however, a warm reception was in store for them; their officers had

given the alarm; and H.M. 9th Lancers cut the mutineers up terribly on

the road leading to the Lahore Gate. Of those who entered the city,

most fell in a sortie shortly afterwards. At the place where this

regiment had been stationed, Umballa, another death-fiend—cholera—was

at work. ‘We have had that terrible scourge the cholera. It has been

raging here with frightful violence for two months (May to July); but,

thank God, has now left us without harming the Sahibs. It seemed a

judgment on the natives. They were reeling about and falling dead in

the streets, and no one to remove them. It is the only time we have

looked on it as an ally; though it has carried off many soldiers, two

native officers, and six policemen, who were guarding prisoners; all

fell dead at the same place; as one dropped, another stepped forward

and took his place; and so on the whole lot.’ It was one of the

grievous results of the Indian mutiny that English officers, in very

bitterness of heart, often expressed satisfaction at the calamities

which fell on the natives, even townsmen unconnected with the

soldiery.

Jelum, which was the scene of a brief but very fierce contest in July,

is a considerable town on the right bank of the river of the same name;

it is situated on the great line of road from Lahore to Peshawur; and

plans have for some time been under consideration for the establishment

of river-steamers thence down through Moultan to Kurachee. Like many

other places on the great high road, it was a station for troops; and

like many other stations, it was thrown into uneasiness by doubts of the

fidelity of the sepoys. The 14th regiment Bengal native infantry, about

three-fourths of which were stationed at Jelum, having excited

suspicions towards the end of June, it was resolved to disarm them; but

as no force was at hand to effect this, three companies of H.M. 24th

foot, under Colonel Ellice, with a few horse-artillery, were ordered

down from Rawul Pindee. On the 7th of July the English troops arrived,

and found the native regiment drawn up on parade. Whether exasperated at

the frustration of a proposed plan of mutiny, or encouraged by their

strength being thrice that of the English, is not well known; but the

14th attacked the English with musketry directly they approached. This

of course brought on an immediate battle. The sepoys had fortified their

huts, loopholed their walls, and secured a defensive position in a

neighbouring village. The English officers of the native regiment,

deserted and fired at by their men, hastened to join the 24th; and a

very severe exchange of musketry soon took place. The sepoys fought so

boldly, and disputed every inch so resolutely, that it was found

necessary to bring the three guns into requisition to drive them out of

their covered positions. At last they were expelled, and escaped into

the country; where the British, having no cavalry, were unable to follow

them. It was an affair altogether out of the usual order in India at

that time: instead of being a massacre or a chasing of treacherously

betrayed individuals, it was a fight in which the native troops met the

British with more than their usual resolution. The loss in this brief

conflict was severe. Colonel Ellice was terribly wounded in the chest

and the thigh; Captain Spring was killed; Lieutenants Streathfield and

Chichester were wounded, one in both legs, and the other in the arm; two

sergeants and twenty-three men were killed; four corporals and

forty-three men wounded. Thus, out of this small force, seventy-six were

either killed or wounded. The government authorities at Jelum

immediately offered a reward of thirty rupees a head for every fugitive

sepoy captured. This led to the capture of about seventy in the next two

days, and to a fearful scene of shooting and blowing away from guns.

On the same day, July 7th, when three companies of H.M. 24th were thus

engaged at Jelum, the other companies of the same regiment were engaged

at Rawul Pindee in disarming the 58th native infantry and two companies

of the 14th. The sepoys hesitated for a time, but seeing a small force

of horse-artillery confronted to them, yielded; some fled, but the rest

gave up their arms. Two hundred of their muskets were found to be

loaded, a significant indication of some murderous intent.

The mutiny at Sealkote, less fatal than that at Jelum in reference to

the conflict of troops in fair fight, was more adventurous, more marked

by ‘hair-breadth ‘scapes’ among the officers and their families.

Sealkote is a town of about twenty thousand inhabitants, in the Doab

between the Chenab and the Ravee, on the left bank of the first-named

river, and about sixty miles distant from Lahore. At the time of the

mutiny there was a rifle-practice depôt at this place. The sepoys

stationed at Sealkote had often been in conversation with their European

officers concerning the cartridge-question, and had expressed themselves

satisfied with the explanations offered. During the active operations

for forming movable columns in the Punjaub, either to protect the

various stations or to form a Delhi siege-army, all the European troops

at Sealkote were taken away, as well as some of the native regiments;

leaving at that place only the 46th Bengal native infantry, and a wing

of the 9th native cavalry, in cantonment, while within the fort were

about a hundred and fifty men of the new Sikh levies. The brigadier

commandant was rendered very uneasy by this removal of his best troops;

some of his officers had already recommended the disarming of the sepoys

before the last of the Queen’s troops were gone; but he was scrupulous

of shewing any distrust of the native army; he felt and acted in this

matter more like a Bengal officer than a Punjaub officer—relying on the

honour and fidelity of the ‘Poorbeah’ troops. His anxieties greatly

increased when he heard that the 14th native infantry, after revolting

at Jelum, were approaching Sealkote. Many of them, it is true, had been

cut up by a few companies of the Queen’s 24th; but still the remainder

might very easily tempt his own sepoys and troopers. Nevertheless, to

the last day, almost to the last hour, many of the regimental officers

fully trusted the men; and even their ladies slept near the lines, for

safety.

The troops appear to have laid a plan on the evening of the 8th of July,

for a mutiny on the following morning. At four o’clock on the 9th,

sounds of musketry and cries of distress were heard, rousing all the

Europeans from their slumbers. An officer on night-picket duty near the

cavalry lines observed a few troopers going towards the infantry lines.

It was afterwards discovered that these troopers went to the sepoys,

told them ‘the letters’ had come, and urged them to revolt at

once—implying complicity with mutineers elsewhere; but the officer could

not know this at the time: he simply thought the movement suspicious,

and endeavoured to keep his own sepoy guards from contact with the

troopers. In this, however, he failed; the sepoys soon left him, and

went over to the troopers. He hurried to his bungalow, told his wife to

hasten in a buggy to the fort, and then went himself towards the lines

of his regiment. This was a type of what occurred generally. The

officers sought to send their wives and families from their various

bungalows into the fort, and then hastened to their duties. These duties

brought them into the presence of murderous troops at the regimental

lines; troops who fired on the very officers that to the last had

trusted them. Especially was the mortification great among the Europeans

connected with the 46th; for when they begged their sepoys to fire upon

the mutinous troopers, the sepoys fired at them instead. A captain, two

surgeons, a clergyman, and his wife and child, were killed almost at the

very beginning of the outbreak; while Brigadier Brind and other officers

were wounded.

There were no wanderings over burning roads and through thick jungles to

record in this case; but a few isolated adventures may be briefly

noticed. Two or three roads from the lines and bungalows to the fort

became speedily marked by fleeing Europeans—officers, ladies, and

children—in vehicles, on horseback, and on foot—all trying to reach the

fort, and all attacked or pursued by the treacherous villains. Dr

Graham, the superintending surgeon, on the alarm being raised, drove

quickly with his daughter towards the fort; a trooper rode up and shot

him dead; his bereaved daughter seized the reins, and, with the corpse

of her parent on her lap, drove into the nearest compound, screaming for

help. A young lieutenant of the 9th cavalry, when it came to his turn to

flee, had to dash past several troopers, who fired many shots, one only

of which hit him. He galloped thirty miles to Wuzeerabad, wounded as he

was; and, all his property being left behind him only to be ruthlessly

destroyed, he had, to use his own words, to look forward to begin the

world again, ‘with a sword, and a jacket cut up the back.’ Three

officers galloped forty miles to Gujeranwalla, swimming or wading the

rivers that crossed their path. One of the captains of the 46th, who was

personally much liked by the sepoys of his own company, was startled by

receiving from them an offer of a thousand rupees per month if he would

become a rebel like them, and still remain their captain! What answer he

gave to this strange offer may easily be conceived; but his company

remained kind to him, for they saw him safely escorted to the fort. In

one of the bungalows fourteen persons, of whom only three were men,

sought refuge from the murderous sepoys and troopers. The women and

children all congregated in a small lumber-room; the three gentlemen

remained in the drawing-room, pistols in hand. Then ensued a brisk scene

of firing and counter-firing; during which, however, only one life

appears to have been lost: the love of plunder in this case overpowered

the love of murder; for the insurgents, compelling the gentlemen to

retreat to their poor companions in the lumber-room, and there besieging

them for a time, turned their attention to loot or plunder. After ten

hours sojourn of fourteen persons in a small room in a sultry July day,

the Europeans, finding that the mutineers were wandering in other

directions, contrived to make a safe and hasty run to the fort, a

distance of upwards of a mile. Some of the Europeans at the station, as

we have said, were killed; some escaped by a brisk gallop; while the

rest were shut up for a fortnight in the fort, in great discomfort,

until the mutineers went away. There being no European soldiers at

Sealkote, the sepoys and sowars acted as they pleased; they pillaged the

bungalows, exploded the magazine, let loose the prisoners in the jail,

and then started off, like other mutineers, in the direction of Delhi.

One of the most touching incidents at Sealkote bore relation to a

nunnery, a convent of nuns belonging to the order of Jesus Marie of

Lyon, a Roman Catholic establishment analogous to that at Sirdhana near

Meerut, already brought under notice (p. 57). The superior at Lyon, many

weeks afterwards, received a letter from one of the sisters,[32] giving

an affecting account of the way in which the quiet religieuses were

hunted about by the mutineers.

When the Sealkote mutineers had taken their departure towards Delhi, a

force was organised at Jelum as quickly as possible to pursue them. This

force, under Colonel Brown, comprised three companies of H.M. 24th foot,

two hundred Sikhs, a hundred irregular horse, and three horse-artillery

guns. The energetic Brigadier Nicholson, in command of a flying column

destined for Delhi, comprising the 52d light infantry, the 6th Punjaub

cavalry, and other troops, made arrangements at the same time for

intercepting the mutineers. It thus happened that on the 12th of July,

the insurgent 46th and 9th regiments when they reached the Ravee from

Sealkote, found themselves hemmed in; and after an exciting contest on

an island in the river, they were almost entirely cut up.

About the close of July, the disarmed 26th native infantry mutinied at

Lahore, killed Major Spencer and two native officers, and fled up the

left bank of the Ravee; but the police, the new levies, and the

villagers pursued them so closely and harassed them so continuously,

that hardly a man remained alive. In August, something of the same kind

occurred at other places in the Punjaub; native Bengal regiments still

were there, disarmed but not disbanded; and it could not be otherwise

than that the men felt chafed and discontented with such a state of

things. If faithful, they felt the degradation of being disarmed; if

hollow in their professed fidelity, they felt the irksomeness of being

closely watched in cantonment. At Ferozpore, on the 19th of August, a

portion of the 10th native cavalry, that had before been disarmed,

mutinied, and endeavoured to capture the guns of Captain Woodcock’s

battery; they rushed at the guns while the artillerymen were at dinner,

and killed the veterinary surgeon and one or two other persons; but a

corps of Bombay Fusiliers, in the station at that time, repulsed and

dispersed them. At Peshawur, where it was found frequently necessary to

search the huts and tents of the disarmed sepoys, for concealed weapons,

the 51st native infantry resisted this search on the 28th of the month;

they beat their officers with cudgels, and endeavoured to seize the arms

of a Sikh corps while those men were at dinner. They were foiled, and

fled towards the hills; but a disastrous flight was it for them; more

than a hundred were shot before they could get out of the lines, a

hundred and fifty more were cut down during an immediate pursuit, nearly

four hundred were brought in prisoners, to be quickly tried and shot,

and some of the rest were made slaves by the mountaineers of the Khyber

Pass, who would by no means ‘fraternise’ with them. Thus the regiment

was in effect annihilated. There were then three disarmed native

regiments left in Peshawur, which were kept so encamped that loaded guns

in trusty hands might always point towards them.

The course of events in the Punjaub need not be traced further in any

connected form. From first to last the plan adopted was pretty uniform

in character. When the troubles began, there were about twenty regiments

of the Bengal native army in the Punjaub; and these regiments were at

once and everywhere distrusted by Sir John Lawrence and his chief

officers. If hope and confidence were felt, it was rather by the

regimental officers, to whom disloyalty in their respective corps was

naturally mortifying and humiliating. All the sepoys were disarmed and

the sowars dismounted, as soon as suspicious symptoms appeared; some

regiments remained at the stations, disarmed, throughout the whole of

the summer and autumn; some mutinied, before or after disarming; but

very few indeed lived to reach the scene of rebel supremacy at Delhi;

for they were cut up by the Europeans, Sikhs, Punjaubees, or hill-men

which the Punjaub afforded. Gladly as every one, whether civilian or

military, acknowledged the eminent services of Sir John Lawrence; there

were, it must be admitted, certain advantages available to him which

were utterly denied to Mr Colvin, the responsible chief of the Northwest

Provinces, in which the mutiny raged more fiercely than anywhere else.

When the troubles began, the Punjaub was better furnished with regiments

of the Queen’s army than any other part of India; while the native

Sikhs, Punjaubee Mohammedans, and hill-men, were either indifferent or

hostile to the sepoys of Hindostan proper. The consequences of this

state of things were two: the native troops were more easily disarmed;

and those who mutinied were more in danger of annihilation before they

could get east of the Sutlej. In the Northwest Provinces the

circumstances were far more disastrous; the British troops were

relatively fewer; and the people were more nearly in accord with the

sepoys, in so far as concerned national and religious sympathies. In the

Meerut military division, when the mutiny had fairly commenced, besides

those at Meerut station, there was only one European regiment (at Agra),

against ten native regiments, irrespective of those which mutinied at

Meerut and Delhi. In the Cawnpore military division, comprising the

great stations of Lucknow, Allahabad, Cawnpore, and the whole of Oude,

there was scarcely more than one complete European regiment, against

thirty native Bengal and Oude regiments, regular and irregular. In the

Dinapoor military division, comprising Benares, Patna, Ghazeepore, and

other large cities, together with much government wealth in the form of

treasure and opium, there was in like manner only one British regiment,

against sixteen native corps. There was at the same time this additional

difficulty; that no such materials were at hand as in the Punjaub, for

raising regiments of horse and foot among tribes who would sympathise

but little with the mutineers.

[Illustration:

Camel and Rider.

]

Sir John Lawrence was at first in some doubt what course to follow in

relation to the liberty of the press. The Calcutta authorities, as we

shall see in the next chapter, thought it proper to curtail that liberty

in Bengal and the Northwest Provinces. Sir John, unwilling on the one

hand to place the Europeans in the Punjaub in the tormenting condition

of seclusion from all sources of news, and unwilling on the other to

leave the news-readers at the mercy of inaccurate or unscrupulous

news-writers at such a critical time, adopted a medium course. He caused

the _Lahore Chronicle_ to be made the medium of conveying official news

of all that was occurring in India, so far as rapid outlines were

concerned. The government secretary at that place sent every day to the

editor of the newspaper an epitome of the most important public news.

This epitome was printed on small quarter-sheets of paper, and

despatched by each day’s post to all the stations in the Punjaub. The

effect was—that false rumours and sinister reports were much less

prevalent in the Punjaub than in Bengal; men were not thrown into

mystery by a suppression of journalism; but were candidly told how

events proceeded, so far as information had reached that remote part of

India. The high character of the chief-commissioner was universally held

as a guarantee that the news given in the epitome, whether little or

much in quantity, would be honestly rendered; the scheme would have been

a failure under a chief who did not command respect and win confidence.

As the summer advanced, and dâks and wires were interrupted, the news

obtainable became very scanty. The English in the Punjaub were placed in

a most tantalising position. Aware that matters were going wrong at

Delhi and Agra, at Lucknow and Cawnpore, they did not know _how_ wrong;

for communication was well-nigh cut off. As the cities just named lie

between the Punjaub and Calcutta, all direct communication with the seat

of government was still more completely cut off. The results of this

were singularly trying. ‘Gradually,’ says an officer writing from the

Punjaub, ‘papers and letters reached us from Calcutta _viâ_ Bombay. It

is not the least striking illustration of the complete revolution that

has occurred in India, that the news from the Gangetic valley—say from

Allahabad and Cawnpore—was known in London sooner than at Lahore. We had

been accustomed to receive our daily letters and newspapers from every

part of the empire with the same unfailing regularity as in England.

Suddenly we found ourselves separated from Calcutta for two months of

time. Painfully must a letter travel from the eastern capital to the

western port—from Calcutta to Bombay; painfully must it toil up the

unsettled provinces of the western coast; slowly must it jog along on

mule-back across the sands of Sinde; many queer twists and unwonted

turns must that letter take, many enemies must it baffle and elude,

before, much bestamped, much stained with travel—for Indian letter-bags

are not water-proof—it is delivered to its owner at Lahore.... Slowly,

very slowly, the real truth dragged its way up the country. It is only

this very 29th of September that this writer in the Punjaub has read

anything like a connected account of the fearful tragedy at Cawnpore,

which, once read or heard, no Englishman can ever forget.’

Attention must now for a brief space be directed to the country of Sinde

or Scinde; not so much for the purpose of narrating the progress of

mutiny there, as to shew how it happened that there were few materials

out of which mutiny could arise.

Sinde is the region which bounds the lower course of the river Indus,

also called Sinde. The name is supposed to have had the same origin as

Sindhi or Hindi, connected with the great Hindoo race. When the Indus

has passed out of the Punjaub at its lower apex, it enters Sinde,

through which it flows to the ocean, which bounds Sinde on the south;

east is Rajpootana, and west Beloochistan. The area of Sinde is about

equal to that of England without Wales. The coast is washed by the

Indian Ocean for a distance of about a hundred and fifty miles; being,

with very few exceptions, little other than a series of mud-banks

deposited by the Indus, or low sand-hills blown in from the sea-beach.

So low is most of the shore, that a wide expanse of country is

overflowed at each high tide; it is a dreary swamp, scarcely observable

from shipboard three or four miles out at sea. The mouths of the Indus

are numerous, but so shallow that only one of them admits ships of any

considerable burden; and even that one is subject to so many

fluctuations in depth and in weather, that sea-going vessels scarcely

enter it at all. Kurachee, the only port in Sinde, is a considerable

distance west of all these mouths; and the mercantile world looks

forward with much solicitude to the time when a railway will be formed

from this port to Hydrabad, a city placed at the head of the delta of

the Indus. This delta, in natural features, resembles that of the Nile

rather than that of the Ganges, being nearly destitute of timber. On

each side of the Indus, for a breadth varying from two to twelve miles,

is a flat alluvial tract, in most places extremely fertile. Many parts

of Sinde are little better than desert; such as the _Pât_, between

Shikarpore and the Bolan Pass, and the _Thur_, nearer to the river. In

general, it may be said that no part of Sinde is fertile except where

the Indus irrigates it; for there is little either of rain or dew, and

the climate is intensely hot. Camels are largely reared in Sinde; and

the Sindians have abundant reason to value this animal. It is to him a

beast of burden; its milk is a favourite article of diet; its hair is

woven into coarse cloth; and it renders him service in many other ways.

The Sindians are an interesting race, both in themselves and in their

political relations. They are a mixture of Jâts and Beloochees, among

whom the distinction between Hindoo and Mussulman has a good deal broken

down. The Beloochees are daring, warlike Mohammedans; the Jâts are

Hindoos less rigorous in matters of faith and caste than those of

Hindostan; while the Jâts who have become Mohammedans are a peaceful

agricultural race, somewhat despised by both the others. The Sindians

collectively are a dark, handsome, well-limbed race; and it was a

favourite opinion of Sir William Jones, that they were the original of

the gipsies. The languages spoken are a mixture of Hindi, Beloochee, and

Persian.

The chain of events which brought Sinde under British rule may be traced

in a few sentences. About thirteen centuries ago the country was invaded

by the Persians, who ravaged it without making a permanent settlement.

The califs at a later date conquered Sinde; from them it was taken by

the Afghans of Ghiznee; and in the time of Baber it fell into the hands

of the chief of Candahar. It was then, for a century and a half, a

dependency of the Mogul Empire. For a few years Nadir Shah held it; next

the Moguls retook it; and in 1756 Sinde fell under the rule of the

Cabool khans, which was maintained nearly to the time when the British

seized the sovereign power. Although subject to Cabool, Sinde was really

governed by eight or ten native princes, called Ameers, who had among

them three distinct territories marked by the cities of Hydrabad,

Khyrpore, and Meerpoor. Under these ameers the government was a sort of

military despotism, each ameer having a power of life and death; but in

warlike affairs they were dependent on feudal chieftains, each of whom

held an estate on condition of supplying a certain number of soldiers.

The British had various trading treaties with the ameers; one of which,

in 1832, opened the roads and rivers of Sinde to the commerce of the

Company. When, in 1838, the eyes of the governor-general were directed

anxiously towards Afghanistan, Sinde became involved in diplomatic

conferences, in which the British, the Afghans, the Sindians, and

Runjeet Singh were all concerned. These conferences led to quarrels, to

treaties, to accusations of breach of faith, which we need not trace:

suffice it to say that Sir Charles James Napier, with powers of the pen

and of the sword intrusted to him, settled the Sinde difficulty once for

all, in 1848, by fighting battles which led to the annexation of that

country to the Company’s dominions. The former government was entirely

put an end to; and the ameers were pensioned off with sums amounting in

the aggregate to about fifty thousand pounds per annum. Some of these

Ameers, like other princes of India, afterwards came to England in the

hope of obtaining better terms from Queen Victoria than had been

obtainable from the Company Bahadoor.

When Sinde became a British province, it was separated into three

collectorates or districts—Shikarpore, Hydrabad, and Kurachee; a new

system of revenue administration was introduced; annual fairs were

established at Kurachee and Sukur; and peaceful commerce was everywhere

so successfully established, that the country improved rapidly, greatly

to the content of the mass of the people, who had formerly been ground

down by the ameers’ government. For military purposes, Sinde was made a

division, under the Bombay presidency.

Sinde, at the commencement of the mutiny, contained about seven thousand

troops of all arms, native and European. The military arrangements had

brought much distinction to Colonel (afterwards Brigadier-general) John

Jacob, whose ‘Sinde Irregular Horse’ formed a corps much talked of in

India. It consisted of about sixteen hundred men, in two regiments of

eight hundred each, carefully drilled, and armed and equipped in the

European manner, yet having only five European officers; the squadron

and troop commanders were native officers. The brigadier uniformly

contended that it was the best cavalry corps in India; and that the

efficiency of such a regiment did _not_ depend so much on the number of

European officers, as on the manner in which they fulfilled their

duties, and the kind of discipline which they maintained among the men.

On these points he was frequently at issue with the Bengal officers; for

he never failed to point out the superiority of the system in the Bombay

army, where men were enlisted irrespective of caste, and where there

were better means of rewarding individual merit.[33] Nationally

speaking, they were not Sindians at all; being drawn from other parts of

India, in the ratio of three-fourths Mohammedans to one-fourth Hindoos.

When the mutiny began in the regions further east, ten or twelve

permanent outposts on the Sinde frontier were held by detachments of the

Sinde Irregular Horse, of forty to a hundred and twenty men each, wholly

commanded by native officers. These men, and the head-quarters at

Jacobabad (a camp named after the gallant brigadier), remained faithful,

though sometimes tempted by sepoys and troopers of the Bengal army. A

curious correspondence took place later in the year, through the medium

of the newspapers, between Brigadier Jacob and Major Pelly on the one

side, and Colonel Sykes on the other. The colonel had heard that Jacob

ridiculed the greased cartridge affair, as a matter that would never be

allowed to trouble _his_ corps; and he sought to shew that it was no

subject for laughter: ‘Brigadier John Jacob knows full well that if he

were to order his Mohammedan soldiers (though they may venerate him) to

bite a cartridge greased with pigs’ fat, or his high-caste troopers to

bite a cartridge greased with cows’ fat, both the one and the other

would promptly refuse obedience, and in case he endeavoured to enforce

it, they would shoot him down.’ Jacob and Pelly at once disputed this;

they both asserted that the Mohammedans and Hindoos in the Sinde Horse

would never be mutinous on such a point, unless other sources of

dissatisfaction existed, and unless they believed it was _purposely_

done to insult their faith. ‘If it were really necessary,’ said the

brigadier, ‘in the performance of our ordinary military duty, to use

swine’s fat or cows’ fat, or anything else whatever, not a word or a

thought would pass about the matter among any members of the Horse, and

the nature of the substances made use of would not be thought of or

discussed at all, except with reference to the fitness for the purpose

to which they were to be applied.’ The controversialists did not succeed

in convincing each other; they continued to hold diametrically opposite

opinions on a question intimately connected with the early stages of the

mutiny—thereby adding to the perplexities of those wishing to solve the

important problem: ‘What was the cause of the mutiny?’

Owing partly to the great distance from the disturbed provinces of

Hindostan, partly to the vicinity of the well-disposed Bombay army, and

partly to the activity and good organisation of Jacob’s Irregular Horse,

Sinde was affected with few insurgent proceedings during the year. At

one time a body of fanatical Mohammedans would unfurl the green flag,

and call upon each other to fight for the Prophet. At another time,

gangs of robbers and hill-men, of which India has in all ages had an

abundant supply, would take advantage of the troubled state of public

feeling to rush forth on marauding expeditions, caring much for plunder

and little for faith of any kind. At another, alarms would be given

which induced European ladies and families to take refuge in the forts

or other defensive positions at Kurachee, Hydrabad, Shikarpore,

Jacobabad, &c., where English officers were stationed. At another,

regiments of the Bengal army would try to tamper with the fidelity of

other troops in Sinde. But of these varied incidents, few were so

serious in results as to need record here. One, interesting in many

particulars, arose out of the following circumstance: When some of the

Sinde forces were sent to Persia, the 6th Bengal irregular cavalry

arrived to supply their place. These troopers, when the mutiny was at

least four months old, endeavoured to form a plan with some Beloochee

Mohammedans for the murder of the British officers at the camp of

Jacobabad. A particular hour on the 21st of August was named for this

outrage, in which various bands of Beloochees were invited to assist.

The plot was revealed to Captain Merewether, who immediately confided in

the two senior native officers of the Sinde Irregular Horse. Orders were

issued that the day’s proceedings should be as usual, but that the men

should hold themselves in readiness. Many of the border chiefs

afterwards sent notice to Merewether of what had been planned,

announcing their own disapproval of the conspiracy. At a given hour, the

leading conspirator was seized, and correspondence found upon him

tending to shew that the Bengal regiment having failed in other attempts

to seduce the Sinde troops from their allegiance, had determined to

murder the European officers as the chief obstacles to their scheme. The

authorities at Jacobabad wished Sir John Lawrence to take this Bengal

regiment off their hands; but the experienced chief in the Punjaub would

not have the dangerous present; he thought it less likely to mutiny

where it was than in a region nearer to Delhi.

The troops in the province of Sinde about the middle of August were

nearly as follows: At Kurachee—the 14th and 21st Bombay native infantry;

the 2d European infantry; the depôt of the 1st Bombay Fusiliers; and the

3d troop of horse artillery. At Hydrabad—the 13th Bombay native

infantry; and a company of the 4th battalion of artillery. At

Jacobabad—the 2d Sinde irregular horse; and the 6th Bengal irregular

cavalry. At Shikarpore and Sukur, the 16th Bombay native infantry; and a

company of the 4th battalion of artillery. The whole comprised about

five thousand native troops, and twelve hundred Europeans.

At a later period, when thanks were awarded by parliament to those who

had rendered good service in India, the name of Mr Frere, commissioner

for Sinde, was mentioned, as one who ‘has reconciled the people of that

province to British rule, and by his prudence and wisdom confirmed the

conquest which had been achieved by the gallant Napier. He was thereby

enabled to furnish aid wherever it was needed, at the same time

constantly maintaining the peace and order of the province.’

Notes.

This will be a suitable place in which to introduce two tabular

statements concerning the military condition of India at the

commencement of the mutiny. All the occurrences narrated hitherto

are those in which the authorities at Calcutta were compelled to

encounter difficulties without any reinforcements from England, the

time elapsed having been too short for the arrival of such

reinforcements.

_Military Divisions of India._—At the period of the outbreak, and

for some time afterwards, India was marked out for military purposes

into divisions, each under the command of a general, brigadier, or

other officer, responsible for all the troops, European and native,

within his division. The names and localities of these divisions are

here given; on the authority of a military map of India, engraved at

the Topographical Depôt under the direction of Captain Elphinstone

of the Royal Engineers, and published by the War Department. Each

division was regarded as belonging to, or under the control of, one

of the three presidencies. We shall therefore group them under the

names of the three presidential cities, and shall append a few words

to denote locality:

UNDER CALCUTTA GOVERNMENT.

Name. Limits.

_Presidency_ Calcutta and its vicinity, and the east and

Division, northeast of Bengal.

_Dinapoor_ Division, From the Nepaul frontier, southwest towards

Nagpoor.

_Cawnpore_ Division, Including Oude, the Lower Doab, and part of

Bundelcund.

_Saugor_ Division, On both sides of the Nerbudda river, south of

Bundelcund.

_Gwalior_ Division, Scindia’s Dominions, bordering on Rajpootana.

_Meerut_ Division, Rohilcund, from the Himalaya down to Agra and the

Jumna.

_Sirhind_ Division, The Cis-Sutlej and Hill states, northwest of

Delhi.

_Lahore_ Division, Eastern part of Punjaub, from Cashmere down to

Sinde.

_Peshawur_ Division, Western part of Punjaub, on the Afghan frontier.

UNDER BOMBAY GOVERNMENT.

_Sinde_ Division, On the Beloochee frontier, both sides of the Lower

Indus.

_Rajpootana_ East of Sinde, and west of Scindia’s Gwalior

Field-force, dominions.

_Northern_ Division, From Cutch nearly to Bombay, including Gujerat.

_Poonah_ Division, Around Bombay, and the South Mahratta country near

it.

_Southern_ Division, Southernmost part of the Bombay Presidency.

UNDER MADRAS GOVERNMENT.

_Nagpoor_ Subsidiary The recently acquired Nagpoor territory, near

Force, Nizam’s states.

_North_ Division, Northern part of Madras Presidency, on sea-coast.

_Centre_ Division, Madras city, and the coast-region north and south

of it.

_Ceded_ Districts, Northwest of Madras city, towards Bombay.

_Mysore_ Division, Seringapatam, and the country once belonging to

Tippoo Saib.

_Southern_ Division, Southernmost part of the Indian peninsula, towards

Ceylon.

It may be useful to remark that these military divisions are not

necessarily identical in area or boundaries with the political

provinces or collectorates, the two kinds of territorial limits

being based on different considerations.

* * * * *

_Armies of India, at the Commencement of the Mutiny._—During the

progress of the military operations, it was frequently wished in

England that materials were afforded for shewing the exact number of

troops in India when the troubles began. The Company, to respond to

this wish, caused an elaborate return to be prepared, from which a

few entries are here selected. The names and limits of the military

divisions correspond nearly, but not exactly, to those in the above

list.

BENGAL ARMY, MAY 10, 1857.

Military Divisions. Europeans. Natives. Total.

Presidency, 1,214 13,976 15,190

Dinapoor, 1,597 15,063 16,660

Cawnpore, 277 5,725 6,002

Oude, 993 11,319 12,312

Saugor, 327 10,627 10,954

Meerut, 3,096 18,357 21,453

Sirhind, 4,790 11,049 15,839

Lahore, 4,018 15,939 19,957

Peshawur, 4,613 15,916 20,529

Pegu, 1,763 692 2,455

—————— ——————— ———————

22,698 118,663 141,361

The Europeans in this list include all grades of officers as well as

rank and file; and among the officers are included those connected

with the native regiments. The natives, in like manner, include all

grades, from subadars down to sepoys and sowars. The Punjaub, it

will be seen, alone contained 40,000 troops. The troops were

stationed at 160 cantonments, garrisons, or other places. As shewing

gradations of rank, the Europeans comprised 2271 commissioned

officers, 1602 non-commissioned officers, and 18,815 rank and file;

the natives comprised 2325 commissioned officers, 5821

non-commissioned officers, and 110,517 rank and file. The stations

which contained the largest numbers were the following:

Peshawur, 9500

Lahore, 5300

Meerut, 5000

Lucknow, 5000

Jullundur, 4000

Dinapoor, 4000

Umballa, 3800

Cawnpore, 3700

Delhi, 3600

Barrackpore, 3500

Sealkote, 3500

Benares, 3200

Rawul Pindee, 3200

Bareilly, 3000

Moultan, 3000

Saugor, 2800

Agra, 2700

Nowsherab, 2600

Jelum, 2400

Allahabad, 2300

These 20 principal stations thus averaged 3800 troops each, or

nearly 80,000 altogether.

MADRAS ARMY, MAY 10, 1857.

Military Divisions. Europeans. Natives. Total.

Centre, 1,580 6,430 8,010

Mysore, 1,088 4,504 5,592

Malabar, 604 2,513 3,117

Northern, 215 6,169 6,384

Southern, 726 5,718 6,444

Ceded Districts, 135 2,519 2,654

South Mahratta, 16 375 391

Nagpoor, 369 3,505 3,874

Nizam’s, 1,322 5,027 6,349

Penang and Malacca, 49 2,113 2,162

Pegu, 2,880 10,154 13,034

—————— —————— ——————

10,194 49,737 59,931

This list was more fully made out than that for the Bengal army;

since it gave the numbers separately of the dragoons, light cavalry,

horse-artillery, foot-artillery, sappers and miners, European

infantry, native infantry, and veterans. The ratio of Europeans to

native troops was rather higher in the Madras army (about 20 per

cent.) than in that of Bengal (19 per cent.) More fully made out in

some particulars, it was less instructive in others; the Madras list

pointed out the location of all the detachments of each regiment,

whereas the Bengal list gave the actual numbers at each station,

without mentioning the particular regiments of which they were

composed. Hence the materials for comparison are not such as they

might have been had the lists been prepared on one uniform plan.

There were about 36 stations for these troops, but the places which

they occupied in small detachments raised the total to a much higher

number. Although Pegu is considered to belong to the Bengal

presidency, it was mostly served by Madras troops. Besides the

forces above enumerated, there were nearly 2000 Madras troops out of

India altogether, on service in Persia and China.

BOMBAY ARMY, MAY 10, 1857.

Military Divisions. Europeans. Natives. Total.

Bombay Garrison, 695 3,394 4,089

Southern, 283 5,108 5,391

Poonah, 1,838 6,817 8,655

Northern, 1,154 6,452 7,606

Asseerghur Fortress, 2 446 448

Sinde, 1,087 6,072 7,159

Rajpootana, 50 3,312 3,362

————— —————— ——————

5,109 31,601 36,710

The Bombay army was so dislocated at that period, by the departure

of nearly 14,000 troops to Persia and Aden, that the value of this

table for purposes of comparison becomes much lessened.

Nevertheless, it affords means of knowing how many troops were

actually in India at the time when their services were most needed.

On the other hand, about 5000 of the troops in the Bombay presidency

belonged to the Bengal and Madras armies. The different kinds of

troops were classified as in the Madras army. The regular military

stations where troops took up their head-quarters, were about 20 in

number; but the small stations where mere detachments were placed

nearly trebled this number. The Europeans were to the native troops

only as 16 to 100.

* * * * *

As a summary, then, we find that India contained, on the day when

the mutinies began, troops to the number of 238,002 in the service

of the Company, of whom 38,001 were Europeans, and 200,001

natives—19 Europeans to 100 natives. An opportunity will occur in a

future page for enumerating the regiments of which these three

armies were composed.

[Illustration:

Catholic Church, Sirdhana.—Built by Begum Sumroo (See p. 57).

]

-----

Footnote 30:

The events of the mutiny relating to the Punjaub have been ably set

forth in a series of papers in _Blackwood’s Magazine_, written by an

officer on the spot.

Footnote 31:

This column was made up as follows:

1. H.M. 27th foot, from Nowsherah.

2. H.M. 24th foot, from Rawul Pindee.

3. One troop European horse-artillery, from Peshawur.

4. One light field-battery, from Jelum.

5. The Guide Corps, from Murdan.

6. The 16th irregular cavalry, from Rawul Pindee.

7. The 1st Punjaub infantry, from Bunnoo.

8. The Kumaon battalion, from Rawul Pindee.

9. A wing of the 2d Punjaub cavalry, from Kohat.

10. A half company of Sappers, from Attock.

Footnote 32:

‘Very Dear and Good Mother—On the 8th of the present month the native

soldiers heard they were to be disarmed the following day. They became

furious, and secretly planned a revolt. They carried their plans into

execution at an early hour on the following morning. We were

immediately apprised of it, and I hastened to awake our poor children,

and all of us, half-clad, prayed for shelter at a Hindoo habitation.

Some vehicles had been prepared for us to escape, when the servants

desired us to conceal ourselves, as the sepoys were coming into the

garden. We returned to our hiding-place; the soldiers arrived; they

took away our carriages, and a shot was fired into the house where we

were concealed. The ball passed close to where our chaplain was

sitting, and slightly wounded a child in the leg. At the same moment

three soldiers, well armed, presented themselves at the door. The good

father, holding the holy sacrament, which he never quitted, advanced

to meet them. Several of us accompanied him. “We have orders to kill

you,” said the sepoys; “but we will spare you if you give us money. Go

out, all, that we may see there are no men concealed here.” Having

searched and found nothing, one of the soldiers raised his sabre over

the chaplain, and cried out: “You shall die.” “Mercy, in the name of

God!” exclaimed I. “I will open every press to shew you that there is

no money concealed here.” He followed me, and having satisfied himself

that there was no money, the soldiers went away. We then broke a hole

in the wall of our garden, and fled into the jungle. We had scarcely

escaped when thirty more sepoys entered the house; but the Almighty

preserved us from this danger. We were crossing the country, when a

faithful servant brought us to a house where several Europeans had

taken refuge. We breathed freely there for a moment, but the

government treasure was deposited there, and the house was soon

attacked by the mutinous sepoys. We believed that our last hour was at

hand; but the savages were too much occupied with pillage to notice

us, and the Europeans escaped. At this moment a Catholic soldier

offered to guide us to the fort, where we arrived at twelve o’clock.

We do not know how long we shall remain in the fort. The English

officers have treated us with the greatest kindness and attention, and

have supplied us with provisions both for ourselves and our pupils. We

trust we shall one day make our way to Bombay; but that will depend on

the orders we receive from the government.’

Footnote 33:

The brigadier’s confidence in his men was conditional on their

implicit obedience; and he was wont to affirm that his ‘Irregulars’

were as ‘regular’ in conduct and discipline as the Queen’s Life-guards

themselves. He would allow no religious scruples to interfere with

their military efficiency. On one occasion, during the _Mohurram_ or

Mohammedan religious festival in 1854, there was great uproar and

noise among ten thousand Mussulmans assembled in and near his camp of

Jacobabad to celebrate their religious festival. He issued a general

order: ‘The commanding officer has nothing to do with religious

ceremonies. All men may worship God as they please, and may act and

believe as they choose, in matters of religion; but no men have a

right to annoy their neighbours, or to neglect their duty, on pretence

of serving God. The officers and men of the Sinde Horse have the name

of, and are supposed to be, excellent soldiers, and not mad

fakeers.... He therefore now informs the Sinde Irregular Horse, that

in future no noisy processions, nor any disorderly display whatever,

under pretence of religion or anything else, shall ever be allowed in,

or in neighbourhood of, any camp of the Sinde Irregular Horse.’

[Illustration:

SIR COLIN CAMPBELL.

]