CHAPTER XXVIII.

MILITARY OPERATIONS IN APRIL.

The British officers and soldiers in India looked forward, not without

anxiety, to a hot-weather campaign in the summer of 1858. Much

disappointment was felt, too, in England, when necessity for such a

campaign became manifest. Persons in all ranks had fondly hoped that,

when Sir Colin Campbell had spent two or three months in preparing for

the siege of Lucknow, he would be enabled so to invest that city as to

render the escape of the mutineers impossible; and that in conquering

it, the heart of the rebellion would be crushed out. The result did not

answer to this expectation. Lucknow was conquered; but the prisoners

taken could be reckoned simply by dozens; nearly all the rebels who were

not killed escaped into the provinces. It is true that they were now a

dispersed body instead of a concentrated army; but it is also true that,

in abandoning Lucknow, they would retire to many towns and forts where

guns could be found, and where a formidable stand might be made against

British troops. Let the summer approach, and the ratio of advantages on

the two sides would be changed in character. Hot weather may affect the

sepoy, but it affects him relatively less than the Englishman. It is

heart-breaking work to a gallant soldier to feel his bodily strength

failing through heat, at a time when his spirit is as heroic as ever.

The rebels were astute enough to know this. The lithe Hindoo, with

supple limbs and no superfluous flesh, can make great marches—especially

when he retreats. His goods and chattels are few in number; his

household arrangements simple; and it costs him little time or thought

to shift his quarters at a short notice, in a period of peace. During

war or rebellion, when he becomes a soldier, his worldly position is

even more simple than before. A man who can live upon rice, parched

corn, and water, and to whom it is a matter of much indifference whether

he is clothed or not, has a remarkable freedom of movement, requiring

little intricacy of commissariat arrangements. The English, during the

war of the mutiny, had ample means of observing this mobility of the

native rebel troops, and ample reasons for lamenting its consequences.

If this were so during the winter, it would be still more decidedly the

case during a hot-weather campaign, when exhaustion and _coups de

soleil_ work so terribly on the European constitution. It was this

consideration, as we have said, that gave rise to much disappointment,

both in India and in England, when the real sequel of the siege of

Lucknow became apparent. The disappointment resolved itself in some

quarters into adverse criticism on Sir Colin Campbell’s tactics; but

even those who deemed it wise and just to postpone such criticism, could

not postpone their anxiety when they found that the rebels, fleeing from

Lucknow, assumed such an attitude elsewhere as would render a summer

campaign necessary.

The long sojourn of the commander-in-chief in and near the Oudian

capital, and the frequent communications between him and the

governor-general, told of serious and weighty discussions concerning the

policy to be pursued. Rumours circulated of an antagonism of plans; of

one project for leaving the rebels unmolested until after the hot season

should have passed, and of another for crushing them in detail before

they could succeed in recombining. But whatever might have been the

rumours, the policy adopted followed the latter of these two courses.

The army of Lucknow, broken up into divisions or columns, was set again

to work, to pursue and defeat those insurgents who kept the field with a

pertinacity little expected when the mutiny began. So much of those

operations as took place during the month of April, it is the purpose of

this chapter to narrate; but a few words may previously be said

concerning the state of affairs in Bengal, more dependent on Calcutta

than on the army of Oude or the commander-in-chief.

The fact has already been adverted to that the supreme government, amid

all the anxiety of the rebellion in the northwest, began in the spring

of the year to take measures for the better protection of Lower Bengal.

That province, the most important in the whole of India, had been very

little affected by the mutiny, chiefly because there were few Mohammedan

leaders inclined to become rebels; but the authorities could not close

their eyes to the facts that the province was very insufficiently

defended, and that any successful revolt there would be more disastrous

than in other regions. So long as the delta of the Ganges remained in

British hands, there would always be a base of operations for

reconquering Upper India, if necessary; but that delta once lost, the

services of a Clive, backed by a large army from England, would be again

needed to recover it. A plan was therefore formed for locating five or

six thousand European troops in Bengal, quartered at Calcutta, Dumdum,

Chinsura, Barrackpore, Dinapoor, Benares, and one or two other places.

It became very seriously contested whether any native army whatever

would be needed in the province. The Bengalees are peaceful, and have

few ambitious chieftains among them; hence, it was argued, a few

thousand British troops, and a few hundred seamen of the Naval Brigade,

would suffice to protect the province. There were ‘divisional

battalions’ of native troops still at certain stations, as a sort of

military police; but the regular Bengal native army had been

extinguished, or had extinguished itself. So useful had a few hundred

seamen become, that their employment led to many such suggestions as the

following—‘Wherever these seamen are, there is a feeling of absolute

security at once from external attack and internal treachery. Bengal has

now been nearly twelve months without a native army, and within that

twelve months they have never once been missed. Why not retain this

security? Why not strike off Bengal from the provinces to be occupied by

a native force, and render our improvised force a permanent institution?

A company of European sailors would be a nucleus for the armed police in

each division. Why not keep them up as such, give them permanent

allowances, recruit them primarily from the same useful class? There can

be no want of men when once such a permanent opening is known. They

would not only protect the great cities, and double the physical force

on which all authority must ultimately rest, but act as a permanent

check on the divisional battalions. We want such a check. These men may

be as faithful as the sepoys have been false, as attached to Europeans

as the sepoys have proved themselves hostile; but there can never be any

proof of the fact. Let us not again trust armed natives without the

precautions we take in our ships against our own sailors—a check by a

different body.’ All such considerations necessarily resolved themselves

into a much larger inquiry, to be conducted deliberately and

cautiously—how ought the army of India to be re-constituted?

Semi-barbarous tribes in many instances took advantage of the disturbed

state of British influence in India, to make inroads into districts not

properly belonging to them; and it sometimes happened that the

correction of these evildoers was a very difficult matter. Such an

instance occurred in the month now under notice. On the borders of

Assam, at the extreme northeast corner of India, were a wild mountain

tribe called Abors, who had for some time been engaged in a system of

marauding on the Assam side of the frontier. Captain Bivar, at

Debrooghur, set forth to punish them, taking with him a mixed force of

sailors and Goorkhas. The Abors retreated to their fastnesses, and Bivar

attempted to follow them; but this was an unsuccessful manœuvre. The

Abors brought down many of his men by poisoned arrows, and maimed others

by rolling down stones upon them from the rocks; a portion of their

numbers, meanwhile, making a circuit, fell upon the baggage-boats, and

captured the whole of the baggage. Captain Bivar and his companions

suffered many privations before they safely got back to Debrooghur.

These, however, were minor difficulties, involving no very serious

consequences. Throughout the northeast region of India there were few

‘Pandies,’ few sepoys of Hindustani race; and thus the materials for

rebellion were deprived of one very mischievous ingredient.

The Calcutta authorities found it necessary to make stringent rules

concerning ladies and children; and hence some of the magistrates and

collectors, the representatives of the Company in a civil capacity in

the country districts, were occasionally placed in troublesome

circumstances by family considerations during times of tumult. From the

first, the Calcutta government had endeavoured, by every available

means, to prevent women and children from going to the scenes of danger:

knowing how seriously the movements of the officers, military and civil,

would be interfered with by the presence of helpless relatives during

scenes of fighting and tumult. One of the magistrates, in Western

Bengal, was brought into difficulty by disobedience to this order. His

wife entreated that she might come to him at his station. She did so.

Shortly afterwards a rumour spread that a large force of the enemy was

approaching. The lady grew frightened, and the husband anxious. He took

her to another place, and was thereby absent from his post at a critical

time. The government suspended him from office for disobeying orders in

having his wife at the station, and for quitting his district without

leave at a time when his presence was imperatively needed.

One other matter may be mentioned here, in connection with the local

government, before proceeding to the affairs of Oude and the northwest.

The Calcutta authorities shared with the Court of Directors, the English

government, and the House of Commons, the power of rewarding or

honouring their troops for good services; the modes adopted were many;

but amid the controversies which occasionally arose concerning military

honours, medals, promotions, and encomiums, it was made very manifest

during the wars of the mutiny that the Victoria Cross, the recognition

of individual valour, was one of the most highly valued by the soldiery,

both officers and privates. The paltriness of the bits of metal and

ribbon, or the tastelessness of the design, might be abundantly

criticised; but when it became publicly known that the Cross would be

given _only_ to those who had shewn themselves to be brave among the

brave, the value of the symbol was great, such as a soldier or sailor

could alone appreciate. From time to time notices appeared in the

_London Gazette_, emanating from the War-office, giving the utmost

publicity to the instances in which the Victoria Cross was bestowed. The

name of the officer or soldier, the regiment or corps to which he

belonged, the commanding officer who had made the recommendation, the

dispatch in which the deed of bravery was recorded, the date and place

of that deed, the nature of the deed itself—all were briefly set forth;

and there can be little doubt that the recipients of the Cross would

cherish that memorial, and the _Gazette_ notice, to the end of their

lives. Incidental notices of this honorary testimonial have been

frequently made in former chapters; and it is mentioned again here

because of its importance in including officers and privates in the same

category. Thus, on the 27th of April, to give one instance, the _London

Gazette_ announced the bestowal of the Victoria Cross on

Lieutenant-colonel Henry Tombs, of the Bengal artillery; Lieutenant

James Hills, of the same corps; Lieutenant William Alexander Kerr, of

the 24th Bombay native infantry; Sergeant John Smith, of the Bengal

Sappers and Miners; Bugler Robert Hawthorne, of the 52d foot;

Lance-corporal Henry Smith, of the same regiment; Sergeant Bernard

Diamond, of the Bengal horse-artillery; and Gunner Richard Fitzgerald,

of the same corps. Sergeant Smith and Bugler Hawthorne, it will be

remembered, assisted poor Home, Salkeld, and Burgess in blowing up the

Cashmere Gate at Delhi; unlike their heroic but less fortunate

companions, they lived to receive the Victoria Cross.[165]

Let us now pass to the stormy northwest regions. Beginning with Lucknow

as a centre, it will be convenient to treat of Sir Colin’s arrangements

at that place, and then to notice in succession the operations of his

brigadiers in their movements radially from that centre, so far as they

were connected with the month of April.

That portion of the army which remained in Lucknow found the month of

April to open with a degree of heat very distressing to bear. A

temperature of 100° F., under the shade of a tent, was not at all

unusual. When the wind was calm, the pressure of temperature was not

much felt; but the blowing of a hot wind was truly terrible—not only

from the heat itself, but from the clouds of dust laden with particles

of matter of the most offensive kind. Every organ of sense, every nerve,

every pore, was distressed. And it was at such a time that a commander

was called upon to plan, and officers and soldiers to execute, military

operations with as much care and exactitude as if under a cool and

temperate sky. There were putrefying bodies yet unburied in the

vicinity, pools of recently dried blood in the streets and gardens, and

abominations of every kind in this city of palaces: how these affected

the air, in a temperature higher than is ever known in England, may be

imperfectly, and only imperfectly, conceived.[166]

The last chapter told in what way the treatment of the Oude rebels

engaged the attention of the imperial legislature, and what were the

violent discussions to which that subject gave rise. In this place it

will only be necessary to state that, long before Viscount Canning

came to hear the views of the two Houses of Parliament, he found it

necessary to determine, if not the policy itself, at least the names

of those who would have the onerous task of re-establishing civil

government in the distracted province. Mr Montgomery, who, as judicial

commissioner of the Punjaub, had rendered admirable service to Sir

John Lawrence, was selected by the governor-general to fill the office

of chief-commissioner of Oude—aided by a staff of judicial and

financial commissioners, civil and military secretaries,

deputy-commissioners, commissioners of divisions, deputy-commissioners

of districts, and other officers. It was believed that he combined the

valuable qualities of sagacity, experience, firmness, and

conciliation. Oude was to be parcelled out into four divisions, and

each division into three districts. The intention was, that as soon as

any part of the province was brought into some degree of order by Sir

Colin and his brigadiers, Montgomery should take it in hand, and bring

it to order in relation to judicial and revenue affairs. Large powers

were given to him, in relation to ‘proclamations’ and everything else;

and it remained for time to shew the result.

While on this subject, it may be well to advert to the conduct and

position of one particular native of Oude. During many months the line

of policy pursued by the influential Oudian landowner, Rajah Maun

Singh, was a subject of much anxiety among the British authorities.

His power in Oude was very considerable, and it was fondly hoped or

wished that he might prove faithful in mutinous times. This hope was

founded on two kinds of evidence, positive and negative—proofs that he

had often befriended the poor European fugitives in the hour of

greatest need, and that on many occasions he had _not_ injured the

British when he might easily have done so. Nevertheless it was

impossible to get rid of the impression that he was ‘playing fast and

loose;’ reserving himself for whichever party should gain the

ascendency in the Indian struggle. So much importance was attached in

England to this rajah’s conduct, that the House of Commons ordered the

production of any documents that might throw light upon it. The papers

produced ranged over a period of six months. So early as June 1857,

when the mutiny was only six or seven weeks old, Mr Tucker,

commissioner of Benares, wrote to Maun Singh concerning the relations

between him and the British government—acknowledging the steadiness of

the rajah in maintaining the district of Fyzabad in a peaceful

condition, so far as he could, and assuring him that it would be good

policy for him to continue in the same path. He told him that although

England was engaged in a war with China, and had only just concluded

one with Persia, and that moreover her Hindustani troops had proved

faithless, she would undoubtedly triumph over all opposition from

within and without, and would equally remember those who had been true

and those who had been false to her—to reward the one and punish the

other. It was a letter of thanks for the past, and of warning for the

future. During the same month, Maun Singh was in correspondence with

Mr Paterson, magistrate of Goruckpore, giving and receiving friendly

assurances, and impressing the magistrate with a belief in his sincere

desire to remain faithful to the British government during a time of

trouble. In the middle of July he was in correspondence with Mr

Wingfield, British political agent with the Goorkha force at that time

in the Goruckpore district. Maun Singh, it may here be remarked, had

suffered severely in his estate, by the land-settlement made when the

Company took possession of Oude; he had suffered, whether rightly or

wrongly; and the Calcutta authorities were naturally anxious to know

whether his losses had converted him into a rebel. He wrote to Mr

Wingfield, promising to adhere faithfully to a course of friendliness

towards the English. Mr Wingfield recommended the government to trust

Maun Singh, to supply him with a certain amount of funds, and to

believe that he was able and willing to keep the districts of Fyzabad

and Sultanpore tolerably free from anarchy. He added: ‘All I see and

hear of Maun Singh makes me think him stanch up to this moment. He has

exerted himself in every way to protect the women and children that

were left at Fyzabad, and to place them in safety. He sent four

sergeants’ wives and seven children to this place; but we cannot

expect him to sacrifice himself for us. He has doubtless already made

himself obnoxious to the rebels by his open adhesion to our cause; and

if fortune goes against us at Lucknow, instead of being able to render

us any assistance, he will himself have to take shelter here.’ The

Calcutta government authorised Mr Wingfield to thank Maun Singh for

his actions and his promises, and to assist him with money to a

certain prescribed amount. In August a letter was sent to the rajah

himself by the government, thanking him for what he had done, and

urging him to a continuance in the same course. Many months

afterwards, the Calcutta authorities had again to discuss this

subject. During the autumn, Maun Singh’s former promises had been a

good deal belied. He had been in and near Lucknow during the period

when Havelock, Outram, and Campbell were engaged in warfare at that

city; and it was more than suspected that he had aided the insurgents.

True, he was a man who, having something of the feelings of a

gentleman, rather succoured than persecuted hapless fugitives who were

powerless for aught save suffering; but his proceedings in other ways

were not satisfactory. When Outram commanded in the Residency, shut up

with Havelock and Inglis, he exchanged many communications with the

rajah, but to no satisfactory end. During the winter, rumours reached

Maun Singh that the governor-general, regarding him as a traitor in

spite of his many promises, intended to deprive him of his estates, as

a punishment. He wrote a reproachful letter to Mr Brereton, the

magistrate at Goruckpore—complaining that this was a poor reward for

his services; that he went with his family to Lucknow because he was

threatened by insurgents at Fyzabad; but that throughout the various

sieges at Lucknow he never joined the rebels in attacking the British.

Among various letters from the officials, were two which shewed that

Mr Wingfield had greatly modified his former favourable opinion of the

Fyzabad rajah. On the 2d of February he wrote: ‘Maun Singh is not the

man to be selected as an object of clemency. He has not the excuse of

having been hurried into insurrection by the force of example, the

impetuosity of his feelings, or even regard for his personal safety.

He withstood all these trials; for it was on mature reflection, and

after weighing all the chances on either side, that he chose that of

rebellion. As long as he thought the success of the insurrection was

but transient, and that our government would speedily recover its

position, he professed loyalty, and even supported us; but when he

heard that the Goorkhas were not to march through Fyzabad, and that

Havelock had been obliged to abandon his design of relieving the

Residency and to retire on Cawnpore, he thought our case hopeless, and

joined what appeared the triumphant side. He has now found out his

mistake, and wishes to turn again.’ Again, on the 12th of February Mr

Wingfield wrote: ‘On Maun Singh’s conduct I look with some distrust,

which his letter does not tend to remove. Our Fyzabad news-writer,

whose information has invariably proved correct, reports that the

rajah has had an interview with some of the sepoy officers, and agreed

to their proposal to invade this (Goruckpore) district, and moved

three of his guns down to the Ghat. It would be quite consistent with

his known character for duplicity to infer that, while aiding the

insurgents, he is trying to keep well with us.’ The double-dealer had,

indeed, his hands full of employment; for he had been sounding Sir

James Outram at the Alum Bagh, before he applied to the Goruckpore

authorities, at the very time that he had on hand some sort of

negotiation with the rebels. He succeeded so far as this—that no party

liked absolutely to throw him off. Mr Wingfield, in writing to the

government, candidly admitted that, inscrutable and unreliable as Maun

Singh was, matters would have gone worse for the British in Oude if he

had not been there. ‘It must be admitted that his neutrality up to the

present time has paralysed the plans of the insurgents, and has made

him the object of their indignation. Had he declared himself openly

against us, the district of Goruckpore would long ago have been

invaded.’ On the 16th of February the governor-general sent orders

from Allahabad, as to the mode in which any overtures from Maun Singh

should be received. He directed that the rajah should be thanked for

the humanity he had shewn towards individuals; reminded that strong

suspicions were entertained of his complicity with the rebels;

threatened with a full and searching inquiry into his past conduct;

and recommended to submit himself—without any other conditions than a

promise of his life and honour—to the British authorities. But Maun

Singh did not follow this advice—he remained throughout the spring

months balancing and trimming between loyalty and disloyalty.

Reverting to the state of affairs at Lucknow, it may here be observed

that the commander-in-chief remained in that city until the middle of

April. There was nothing Napoleonic, nothing rapid, in his movements

after the conquest; but those who knew him best knew that he was

organising plans of operation for all his brigadiers, and on all sides

of the Oudian capital. So thoroughly was he master of his own secrets,

and of his correspondence with the governor-general, that very little

concerning his plans were known until the very day of operation. Even

the higher officers had little but conjecture to rest upon; while the

mere retailers of gossip were sorely puzzled for materials. It may be

that the excessive publicity of the details of the Crimean war had

rendered military authorities uneasy, and tended to render them chary of

giving information of their plans in any subsequent wars. During the

second week in the month, Sir Colin Campbell took a rapid gallop to

Allahabad—a long distance and a somewhat perilous ride in such a

disturbed state of the country; but he was not a man to care for

distance or for danger, as personally affecting himself. He had many

weighty questions to settle with Viscount Canning; and as the

governor-general could not or would not go to the commander, the

commander went to the governor-general. The result of the interview was

the departure of Sir Colin Campbell himself, as well as his generals,

for active service in districts distant from Lucknow.

It will be desirable to trace the movements of the generals and

brigadiers singly before noticing those of the commander-in-chief and

his head-quarters.

And first, for Sir James Outram. This eminent man, the second in

influence among the military commanders in India, quitted Lucknow nearly

at the same time as many other officers; but on a different mission.

When that city was conquered, Outram at once became supreme authority

there, as chief-commissioner of Oude. He collected round him a civil

staff, and proceeded to enrol a police, establish police-stations, and

restore order in the city. From these duties, however, he was summoned

away. His services were needed at Calcutta. The supreme council in that

city generally contained one military officer among its members, to

advise on matters pertaining to war. General Low, who had for some time

filled that position, retired to England; and Outram was chosen to

supply his place. Personally, it was well that Sir James should quit the

camp for a while, after half a year’s incessant military employment in

Oude; and professionally, it was desirable that the council at Calcutta

should have the benefit of his assistance, in any plans for the

reorganisation of the Indian army—a most important matter, towards which

the attention of the authorities was necessarily much directed. Sir

James did not forget his old companions-in-arms. As soon as he reached

Calcutta, he gave orders that copies of one of the newspapers should be

regularly sent to the hospitals of six of the British regiments at

Cawnpore, Meerut, Lucknow, and Benares; he knew how irksome are the

hours in a sick-room, and how joyfully a few books or journals are

hailed in such a place.

The lines of operation marked out for the other generals naturally bore

relation to the real or supposed position of the insurgent forces. The

rumours which reached head-quarters concerning the concentration of

rebel leaders in Rohilcund, even making allowance for exaggerations,

told of a somewhat formidable organisation. Among the best-known names

included in the list were Khan Bahadoor Khan, Nena Sahib, Fuzul Huq,

Waladid Khan, and the Nawab of Furruckabad. Khan Bahadoor Khan was chief

ruler; and he appears to have organised something like a regular

government, with dewans, moonshees, naibs, darogahs, kotwals, nazims,

and military commanders. Nena Sahib was there as a sort of distinguished

refugee; as were also two shahzadas or princes of the royal family of

Delhi. Nena Sahib is supposed to have arrived at Bareilly in Rohilcund,

after Sir Colin’s great victory at Lucknow, with four hundred troopers,

and to have taken up his abode in the fine large native school-room

built by the British in that city. One among many bazaar reports was,

that Khan Bahadoor Khan began to entertain misgivings concerning the

ultimate success of his rebel policy; but that Nena Sahib, acting on his

fears, insisted that a drawing back would be ruinous. Another rumour,

having much probability to recommend it, was to the effect that Nena

Sahib looked to Central India, the region of Gwalior, Kotah, and Indore,

as the field in which his own personal success might ultimately be best

insured, on account of his great influence among the Mahrattas of that

region; and it was supposed that, failing of success in Oude and

Rohilcund, he would endeavour to cross the Ganges and the Jumna into

Bundelcund and Central India. Hence one of the points of policy on the

side of the commander-in-chief, was to guard those great rivers at as

many ghats or passing-places as possible—in the hope that, confined to

Oude and Rohilcund, the rebels might be crushed; and in the fear that,

scattered over Central India, they might again become powerful. Whether

his forces were sufficiently numerous for this duty, was one of the many

questions that pressed upon Sir Colin Campbell. The trite saying of an

enemy ‘not knowing when they were beaten,’ was many times revived by the

British officers in those days; the mutineers seldom gained a victory;

but on the other hand, they were not much disheartened by defeat; they

retreated, only to collect and fight again; and thus the British troops

seldom felt that a victory would give an unquestionably permanent

advantage.

Of the leaders who had taken part in the conquest of Lucknow, Jung

Bahadoor, the Nepaulese chieftain—as has been shown in a former

chapter—went to Allahabad with a body-guard, to hold an interview with

the governor-general. The rest of the Goorkha contingent retraced their

steps by slow degrees towards their Nepaulese home. So late as the 22d

of April, the main body of Goorkhas were no further from Lucknow than

Nawabgunge, a town on the banks of the Gogra, northeast of the capital

of Oude. On that day, they marched to Sutturgunje, and on the 23d to

Durriabad. This town had a fort which might have made a stout

resistance, but there were no rebel troops at hand to put the matter to

proof. After remaining at Durriabad two days, the Goorkhas marched on

the 25th to Shugahgunje, on the 26th to Mobarrukgunje, and on the 27th

to Durabgunje—all of them places on or near the banks of the Gogra, on

the route towards Fyzabad. Resting two days at Durabgunje, they marched

on the 29th to Ayodha or Oude, the ancient Hindoo capital, afterwards

supplanted by the Mohammedan Fyzabad, just at hand—which Fyzabad was in

its turn supplanted by Lucknow. On the last day of the month, the

Goorkhas were on one side of the river Gogra at Fyzabad, and a body of

rebels on the other—each intently watching the other, but without

fighting. Maun Singh was at that time at Fyzabad, friendly to the

British. Little satisfaction appears to have been derived by any party

from this co-operation of the Goorkhas with the British. In the

preceding July and August, when Havelock was straining every nerve to

bring a small force up to Lucknow, and when Inglis was contending

against stupendous difficulties in that city—in those months, there was

an army of three or four thousand Goorkhas near the eastern frontier of

Oude, badly commanded and insufficiently employed. Why they were not

pushed on to Lucknow, as an auxiliary force, was known only to the

authorities; but, in its effect, this inactivity of the Goorkhas called

forth much adverse criticism. Again, during the six months from the

beginning of September to the beginning of March, the assistance from

Nepaul was not of such a character as had been hoped by those who knew

that the Goorkhas enlisted in the Sirmoor and Kumaon battalions were

really brave and efficient troops, and who expected that Jung Bahadoor’s

Goorkhas would prove to be men of the same stamp. Why the aid rendered

was so small, was a politico-military question, on which very little

information was afforded. When, at last, a really large Nepaulese army

entered Oude, its movements were so slow that Sir Colin began the siege

of Lucknow without its aid; and when the siege was over, the army began

to march back again, without participating further in the war. This was

a very impotent result; and the Nepaulese episode was by no means a

brilliant one in the history of the wars of the mutiny. So far as

concerns the march during the month of April, from Lucknow towards the

Nepaul frontier, it may be remarked that the Goorkhas dreaded the

approaching hot weather, that their number of sick was very large, and

that the carts for their baggage were so enormous in number as greatly

to impede their movements.

[Illustration:

Goorkha Havildar or Sergeant.

]

Another of the generals concerned in the siege of Lucknow, Sir Edward

Lugard, was intrusted by the commander-in-chief with service in a region

infested by Koer Singh—the chieftain whose name had been so closely

associated with the Dinapoor mutiny and the ‘disaster at Arrah,’ in the

preceding summer. This rebel had worked round nearly in a circle—not

metaphorically, but topographically. He had marched at the head of

insurgents south and southwest from Arrah, then west into Bundelcund,

then north into the Doab and Oude; and now it was his fortune to be

driven east and southeast back to his old quarters in the neighbourhood

of Arrah.

Before Lugard could cross the frontier into the provinces eastward of

Oude, it was found necessary to bring smaller forces to bear upon bodies

of rebels infesting those provinces, and threatening to command the

region between the rivers Goomtee and Gogra. The city of Azimghur was in

this way greatly indebted to the gallant exertions of Lord Mark Kerr.

This officer, immediately on the arrival of news that Azimghur was beset

by the enemy, started off from Benares on the 2d of April, with 450 men

of H.M. 13th regiment and Queen’s Bays, and two 6-pounder guns. Though

impeded by a train of three hundred bullock-carts laden with ammunition,

Kerr pushed forward with such rapidity that he arrived in the

neighbourhood of Azimghur on the third day after quitting Benares. Here

he was opposed by three or four thousand rebels, comprising a large

proportion of sepoys of the too celebrated Dinapoor brigade. The rebels

were commanded with some skill by a subadar of one of the mutinied

regiments. They occupied a position of considerable strength, on the

right and left sides of the main road; their right resting on a strong

village, and their left protected by a ditch and embankment. Lord Mark

succeeded in dislodging those of the enemy who were immediately in his

front; but while thus engaged, his convoy in the rear was attacked by

eight hundred rebels, who were with great difficulty beaten off, at the

expense of the life of Captain Jones, who was guarding the convoy.

Overcoming all resistance, Lord Mark succeeded in reaching a point near

Azimghur, and remained there until the arrival of Lugard’s column from

Lucknow. This portion of the rebels did not return to the city after the

action, but retired in good order, taking their guns and baggage with

them.

Azimghur, however, needed the assistance of a larger force than Kerr

could bring against it; for Koer Singh, with a formidable band of

rebels, had to be contended against, in a region containing many large

towns. Sir Edward Lugard, placed by Sir Colin Campbell in command of a

column destined for service in this region, started from Lucknow during

the last week in March; but the destruction of a bridge over the Goomtee

at Sultanpore greatly delayed his progress, and compelled him to take a

circuitous route by Jounpoor, which city he did not reach till the 9th

of April. His column was a strong one; comprising three regiments of

infantry, three of Sikh horse, a military train, three batteries of

horse-artillery, and seven hundred carts full of warlike stores. On the

evening of the 10th, he marched out from Jounpoor, to encounter Gholab

Hossein, one of the rebel chuckladars or leaders. The enemy did not stay

to fight, but retreated precipitately. They required close watching,

however; for while Sir Edward was on the march from Jounpoor to

Azimghur, a large rebel force got into his rear, and attempted to

re-enter Jounpoor. This caused him to modify his plan, and to disperse

the rebels before proceeding to Azimghur. In this he succeeded, but lost

the services of Lieutenant Charles Havelock, nephew of the distinguished

general. The gallant young officer, at the commencement of the mutiny,

had been adjutant of the 12th Bengal native irregular cavalry, and was

thrown out of employment by the revolt of that regiment. He then went as

a volunteer with his uncle, and was for nine months more or less engaged

in the operations in and around Lucknow. When Lugard left the army of

Oude, and took command of the column whose operations are here being

recorded, young Havelock accompanied him, holding a command in a Goorkha

battalion. It was while Lugard was dispersing the rebels near Jounpoor,

that the lieutenant was killed by a shot from a hut in an obscure

village.

Sir Edward, resuming his march towards Azimghur, reached that city at

length on the 15th, somewhat vexed at the numerous delays that had

occurred on his journey. On his arrival at the bridge of boats which

crossed the small river Tons at that city, he encountered a portion of

Koer Singh’s main army. They fought well, and with some determination;

and it was not without a struggle that he defeated and dispersed them.

Mr Venables, the civilian who had gained so high a reputation for

courage during the earlier mutinous proceedings in the district, was

wounded on this occasion. The East India Company had reason to be proud

of its civilians, for the most part, during the troubles; Mr Venables

was only one among many who nobly distinguished themselves. After this

battle at the bridge, it soon became evident, as in many other

instances, that the rebels had been too quick for their pursuers. Koer

Singh and the main body of his force were quitting Azimghur on the one

side just when Lugard entered it on the other; the fighting was merely

with the rear guard, and all the rest of the insurgents marched off

safely. As it was by no means desirable that they should escape to work

mischief elsewhere, Sir Edward, on the 16th, sent off Brigadier Douglas

in pursuit of them, with the 37th and 84th regiments, some cavalry and

artillery. Lugard himself proposed to encamp for a while at Azimghur.

We have now for a time to leave Sir Edward Lugard, and to notice the

unsatisfactory result of the operations which he initiated. The town of

Arrah was destined to be the scene of another discomfiture of British

troops, as mortifying if not as disastrous as that which occurred early

in the mutiny, and inflicted by the same hand—Koer Singh. When this

indefatigable rebel was driven out of Azimghur, he separated from some

of the other chieftains, at a point which he believed would enable him

to cross the Ganges into the district of Shahabad, where Arrah would be

near at hand. He marched with two thousand sepoys and a host of rabble.

Brigadier Douglas pursued him with great rapidity, marching a hundred

miles in five days of great heat; he came up with the rebels at Bansdeh,

defeated them, and drove them to Beyriah, Koer Singh himself being

wounded. On the 21st, a portion of Douglas’s force again came up with

the enemy while in the act of crossing the Ganges at Seoporeghat in the

Ghazeepore district. It appeared that Koer Singh had cleverly outwitted

Colonel Cumberlege, who, with two regiments of Madras cavalry, was

endeavouring to aid Douglas in crushing him at a particular spot. Koer

Singh did not wait to be crushed, but swiftly and silently marched to

the Ganges at a spot not guarded by Cumberlege. When Douglas’s troops

came up, they killed a few of the rebels, and captured two guns, six

elephants, and much ammunition and treasure—but the interception had not

been prompt enough; for Koer Singh and the greater part of his force had

safely crossed to the right bank of the river. The remainder of

Douglas’s column came up on the evening of this day, quite worn out with

their long march, and needing some days’ rest. Koer Singh, although

beaten first by Lugard and then by Douglas, had baffled them both in

reference to a successful flight; and now it was his fortune (though

wounded) to baffle a third British officer. The rebels reached Koer

Singh’s hereditary domain of Jugdispore. The town of Arrah was at that

time occupied by 150 men of H.M. 35th foot, 150 of Rattray’s Sikhs, and

50 seamen of the Naval Brigade—the whole under Captain Le Grand. This

officer, hearing of the approach of the rebels, and knowing that small

bodies had often defeated large armies during the course of the war,

sallied forth to prevent the march of Koer Singh to Jugdispore, or else

to disturb him at that place. He found them posted in a jungle. They

were nearly two thousand in number, but dispirited, and without guns. Le

Grand’s small force, with the two 12-pounder howitzers, encountered the

enemy about two miles from Jugdispore, at daylight on the 23d. After an

ineffectual firing of the howitzers, a bugle-call threw everything into

confusion. Whether Le Grand, fearing to be surrounded, sounded a

retreat, or whether some other signal was misinterpreted, it appears

certain that his force fell into inextricable confusion; they abandoned

guns and elephants, and fled towards Arrah, followed by numbers of the

enemy, who shot and cut down many of them. The 35th suffered terribly;

two-thirds of their number were either killed or wounded, including

Captain Le Grand himself, Lieutenant Massey, and Dr Clarke. This

mortifying calamity, in which the unfortunate Le Grand is said to have

disobeyed instructions given by the superior officer of the district,

gave rise to much bitter controversy. The 35th was one of those

regiments of which the colonel was an old man, shattered in health, and

not well fitted to head his troops in active service. It was also, in

the heat of controversy, brought as a charge against him that he was a

martinet in matters of discipline, and kept his soldiers in red cloth

and pipe-clayed belts under the tremendous heat of an Indian sun. The

charges, in this as in many similar cases, may have been overwrought;

but all felt that the 35th had not behaved in such a way as English

troops are wont to behave when well commanded—and hence the inference

that they were _not_ well commanded.

A new series of operations became necessary as a consequence of this

disaster near Jugdispore. The news hastened the movements of Brigadier

Douglas, who on the 25th crossed the Ganges at Seenaghat, and pushed on

the 84th foot and two guns towards Jugdispore. It was, however, not till

the month of May that that jungle-haunt of rebels was effectually

cleared out. Meanwhile a little had been doing at another spot in the

same region. When, after the action at the bridge of Azimghur, Koer

Singh’s force divided into three, one of these divisions, with several

horse-artillery guns, marched towards Ghazeepore. Brigadier Gordon, at

Benares, at once ordered two companies of H.M. 54th to proceed to

Ghazeepore by hasty marches, half the number being carried on elephants

or in ekahs. It was hoped that these troops, coming in aid of small

numbers of royal troops, European cavalry, Madras cavalry, and two

6-pounder guns, already at Ghazeepore, would suffice to protect that

important city from the rebels; and this hope was realised. Considerably

to the northwest, between Goruckpore and the Oude frontier, Colonel

Rowcroft maintained a small force, with which from time to time he

repelled attacks made by the enemy. On the 17th of April, when at

Amorah, his camp was attacked by three thousand rebels; the attack was

not effectually resisted without eight hours’ hard fighting. The sepoys,

almost for the first time in the war, endeavoured to resist a cavalry

charge in British fashion, by kneeling in a line with upturned bayonets;

but a corps of Bengal yeomanry cavalry made the charge with such

impetuosity that the enemy were overthrown and a victory gained.

Such, in brief, was the general character of the operations eastward of

Oude. We have next to touch upon those of Sir Hope Grant, in Oude

itself.

This gallant general, as colonel of a cavalry regiment, had commenced

his share in the war as a subordinate to one or more brigadiers; but he

had since proved himself well worthy of the command of a column under

his own responsibility. When Sir Colin Campbell parcelled out among his

chief officers various duties consequent on the flight of the insurgents

from Lucknow, a column or division was made up, to be commanded by Sir

Hope Grant, to look after such of the rebels as had taken a northerly

direction. His column consisted of H.M. 38th foot, one battalion of the

Rifle Brigade, a regiment of Sikhs, H.M. 9th Lancers (Hope Grant’s own

regiment), a small body of reliable native cavalry, two troops of

horse-artillery, and a small siege and mortar train. It was known or

believed that the Moulvie of Fyzabad had collected a force near Baree,

about thirty miles north of Lucknow; and that the Begum of Oude, with

several cart-loads of treasure, had fled for concealment to Bitowlie,

the domain of a rebel named Gorhuccus Singh. To what extent Sir Hope

Grant would be able to capture, intercept, or defeat the rebels in the

service of these leaders, was a problem yet to be solved. He set out

from Lucknow on the 11th of April, with Brigadier Horsford as his second

in command. In the first three days the troops marched to Baree, on the

Khyrabad road; and then was experienced one of the perplexities of the

campaign. Every brigadier or divisional general was painfully impressed

with the danger of moving in a country where the mass of the population

was unfriendly. In many provinces the towns-people and villagers were

for the most part disposed, if not to aid the British, at least to hold

aloof; but the fact could not be concealed that the Oudians generally

were in a rebellious state of feeling, and would gladly have aided to

cut off the resources of Sir Colin’s lieutenants. It was merely one

among many examples, when Sir Hope Grant set out towards the Gogra, in

hopes to overtake the Begum and her fleeing forces; his column or

field-force was accompanied by no less than 6000 hackeries or vehicles

of various kinds, forming a line of nearly twenty miles; and it was

essentially necessary, while assuming the offensive in front, that the

flanks and rear of this immense train should be protected—a difficult

duty in a hostile country. Scarcely had Grant approached near Baree,

when the cavalry of the Moulvie’s rebel force got into his rear, and

attempted to cut off the enormous baggage-train. Sir Hope was too good a

general to be taken by surprise; but his rear-guard found enough to do

to repel the attack made upon them, and to protect the enormous

baggage-train. This done, and some horse-artillery guns captured, Sir

Hope Grant resumed his march. Turning eastward from Baree, he marched

towards the Gogra, in the hope of intercepting the flight of the Begum

of Oude, her paramour Mummoo Khan, and a large force of rebels. On the

15th he reached Mohamedabad, on this route; and on the 17th he halted at

Ramnuggur for a few days, while a strong reconnoitring party set forth

to ascertain if possible the exact position and strength of the rebels.

The news obtained was very indefinite, and amounted to little more than

this—that the Begum and Mummoo Khan were retreating northward with one

large force, and the Moulvie westward with another; but that it would

not be very easy to catch either, as the sepoys were celebrated for

celerity of movement during a retreat. Sir Hope Grant dispersed various

bodies of rebels, and disturbed the plans of the Begum and the Moulvie;

but he returned to Lucknow towards the close of the month without having

caught either of those wily personages, and with many of his troops laid

prostrate by the heat of the sun.

[Illustration:

GHAZEEPORE.

]

We turn now towards the west or northwest, on the Rohilcund side of

Oude. It has already been mentioned, that after the fall of Lucknow,

many of the rebel leaders fled to Rohilcund, with the hope of making a

bold stand at Bareilly, Shahjehanpoor, Moradabad, and other towns in

that province. Khan Bahadoor Khan, the self-appointed chief of Bareilly,

was nominally the head of the whole confederacy in this region; but it

depended on the chapter of accidents how long this leadership would

continue. At any rate, Sir Colin Campbell saw that he could not allow

this nest of rebels to remain untouched; Bareilly must be conquered, as

Delhi and Lucknow had been. The veteran commander probably mourned in

secret the necessity for sending his gallant troops on a long march,

into a new field of action, with a sun blazing on them like a ball of

fire; but seeing the necessity, he commanded, and they obeyed. His plan

of strategy comprised a twofold line of action—an advance of one column

northwestward from Lucknow; and an advance of another southeastward from

Roorkee; the two columns to assist in clearing the border districts of

Rohilcund, and then to meet at Bareilly, the chief city of the province.

We will notice first the operations of the force on the northeast

border.

Brigadier Jones, with the Roorkee field-force, commenced operations in

the eastern part of Rohilcund, about the middle of April. His force

consisted of H.M. 60th Rifles, the 1st Sikh infantry, Coke’s Rifles, the

17th Punjaub infantry, the Moultan Horse, with detachments of artillery

and engineers. The force numbered three thousand good troops in all, and

was strengthened by eight heavy and six light guns. Major (now

Brigadier) Coke, whose Punjaub riflemen had gained for themselves so

high a reputation, commanded the infantry portion of Jones’s column. The

column marched from Roorkee on the 15th, and made arrangements for

crossing to the left bank of the Ganges as soon as possible. A large

number of the enemy having intrenched themselves at Nagul, about sixteen

miles below Hurdwar on the left bank, Jones made his dispositions

accordingly. He determined to send his heavy guns and baggage to the

ghat opposite Nagul; while his main body should cross at Hurdwar, march

down the river on the other side, and take the intrenchment in flank.

This plan was completely carried out by the evening of the 17th—Nagul

being taken, the enemy driven away with great loss, and the whole column

safely encamped on that side of the Ganges which would afford easier

access to the hot-bed of the rebels at Bareilly. Four days afterwards,

Brigadier Jones encountered the Daranuggur insurgent force near Nageena

or Nuggeena, on the banks of a canal. The insurgents maintained a fire

for a time from nine guns; but Jones speedily attacked them with his

cavalry, outflanked them, charged, captured the guns and six elephants,

and put the enemy speedily to flight, after very considerable loss.

Jones’s killed and wounded were few in number; but he had to regret the

loss of Lieutenant Gostling, who was shot through the heart while

heading some of the troops. The brigadier resumed his march. Luckily for

British interests, Mooradabad was not so deeply steeped in rebellion as

Bareilly; and the Rajah of Rampore, not far distant, was faithful so far

as his small power would extend. The benefit of this state of affairs

was felt at the time now under notice. Feroze Shah, one of the Shahzadas

or princes of Delhi in league with the Bareilly mutineers, marched on

the 21st of April towards Mooradabad, to demand money and supplies. He

was refused; and much fighting and pillage resulted as consequences.

Brigadier Jones’s column came up opportunely; he entered Mooradabad on

the 26th, checked the plundering, drove out the rebels, captured many

insurgent chieftains, and re-established the confidence of the

towns-people. At the end of the month, Jones was still in Mooradabad or

its neighbourhood, ready for co-operation in May with another column

which we must now notice.

While Jones had been thus occupied, Bareilly and the rebels were

threatened on the other side by the Rohilcund field-force. During the

first two or three weeks after the conquest of Lucknow, Sir Colin

Campbell was engaged in various plans which did not permit of the

immediate dispatch of troops to Rohilcund; but on the 7th of April

several regiments began to assemble at the Moosa Bagh, to form a small

special army for service in that province. Why they were not despatched

earlier, was one of the many problems which the commander-in-chief kept

to himself. On the 9th this minor army, the Rohilcund field-force, set

out, with General Walpole as its commander, and Brigadier Adrian Hope at

the head of the infantry. The distance from Lucknow to Bareilly, about

fifteen marches, was through a region so ill provided with roads that

few or no night-marches could be made; it was necessary to have the aid

of daylight to avoid plunging into unforeseen difficulties and dangers.

As a consequence, the troops would be exposed to the heat of an Indian

sun during their journey, and had to look forward to many trials on that

account. Not the least among the numerous perplexities that arose out of

the defective state of the roads, was the difficulty of dragging the

guns which necessarily accompanied such a force; cavalry and infantry

were, in all such cases, inevitably delayed by the necessity of waiting

until the ponderous pieces of ordnance could arrive.[167]

Walpole’s field-force, resting at night under shady groves, it was hoped

might reach Bareilly about the 24th of the month; and this was the more

to be desired, seeing that Rohilcund, from its position in relation to

numerous rivers, becomes almost impassable as soon as the rains set

in—about the end of May or the beginning of June. Marching onward in

accordance with the plan laid down, Walpole came on the 14th of April to

one of the many forts which have so often been mentioned in connection

with the affairs of Oude. The name of the place, situated about fifty

miles from Lucknow, and ten from the Ganges, was variously spelled

Rhodamow, Roodhamow, Roer, and Roowah; but whatever the spelling, the

fort became associated in the minds of the British troops with more

angry complainings than any other connected with the war; since it was

the scene of a mortifying repulse which better generalship might have

avoided, and which was accompanied by the death of a very favourite

officer. Rhodamow was a small fort or group of houses enclosed by a high

mud-wall, loopholed for musketry, provided with irregular bastions at

the angles, and having two gates. It was a petty place, in relation to

the largeness of the force about to attack it—nearly six thousand men.

While marching through the jungle towards Rohilcund, Walpole heard that

fifteen hundred insurgents had thrown themselves into this fort of

Rhodamow; but the number proved to be much smaller. He attacked it with

infantry without previously using his artillery, and without (as it

would appear) a sufficient reconnaissance. He sent on the 42d

Highlanders and the 4th Punjaub infantry to take the fort; but no sooner

did the troops approach it than they were received by so fierce and

unexpected a fire of musketry, from a concealed enemy, that not only was

the advance checked, but the gallant Brigadier Adrian Hope was killed at

the head of his Highlanders. The troops could not immediately and

effectually reply to this fire, for their opponents were hidden behind

the loopholed wall. Everything seems to have been thrown into confusion

by this first fatal mistake; the supports were sent up too late, or to

the wrong place; and the exasperated troops were forced to retire, amid

yells of triumph from the enemy. The heavy guns were then brought to do

that which they ought to have done at first; they began to breach the

wall, but the enemy quietly evacuated the fort during the night, with

scarcely any loss. Besides Adrian Hope, several other officers were

either killed or wounded, and nearly a hundred rank and file. During

this mortifying disaster, in which the Highlanders were particularly

unfortunate in the loss of officers, Quartermaster Sergeant Simpson, of

the 42d, displayed that daring spirit of gallantry which so endears a

soldier to his companions. When the infantry had been recalled from the

attack, Simpson heard that two officers of his regiment had been left

behind, dead or wounded in the ditch outside the wall. He rushed out,

seized the body of Captain Bromley, and brought it back amid a torrent

of musketry; setting forth again, he brought in the body of Captain

Douglas in a similar way, and he did not cease until seven had been thus

brought away—to be recovered if only wounded, to be decently interred if

dead. It was a day, however, the memory of which could not be sweetened

by any such displays of gallantry, or by many subsequent victories; the

men of the two Highland regiments felt as if a deep personal injury had

been inflicted on them by the commander of the column. Sir Colin

Campbell, when the news of this untoward event reached him, paid a

marked compliment to Adrian Hope in his dispatch. ‘The death of this

most distinguished and gallant officer causes the deepest grief to the

commander-in-chief. Still young in years, he had risen to high command;

and by his undaunted courage, combined as it was with extreme kindness

and charm of manner, had secured the confidence of his brigade in no

ordinary degree.’ Viscount Canning, in a like spirit, officially

notified that ‘no more mournful duty has fallen upon the

governor-general in the course of the present contest than that of

recording the premature death of this distinguished young commander.’

General Walpole pursued his march, and had a successful encounter on the

22d with a large body of the enemy at Sirsa. His cavalry and artillery

attacked them so vigorously as to capture their guns and camp, and to

drive them over the Ramgunga in such haste as to leave them no time for

destroying the bridge of boats at that place. This achievement was

fortunate, for it enabled Walpole on the 23d to transport his heavy guns

quickly and safely over the Ramgunga at Allygunje. A few days after

this, he was joined by the commander-in-chief, whose movements we must

next notice.

It was immediately after Sir Colin Campbell’s return from his interview

with the governor-general at Allahabad, that he withdrew from Lucknow

all the remaining troops, except those destined for the defence of that

important city, and for the re-establishment of British influence in

Oude. He formed an expeditionary army, which he headed himself—or

rather, the army set forth from Lucknow to Cawnpore, and the

commander-in-chief joined it at the last-named place on the 17th of

April. The result of the conference at Allahabad had been, a

determination to march up the Doab to Furruckabad, and to attack the

Rohilcund rebels on a side where neither Jones nor Walpole could well

reach them. The heat was great, the rivers were rising, and the rains

were coming in a few weeks; and it became now a question whether the

movements from Lucknow as a centre had or had not been too long delayed.

Sir Colin with his column—for, being a mere remnant, it was too small a

force to designate an army—took their departure from Cawnpore on the

18th, leaving that city in the hands of a small but (at present)

sufficient body of troops. On the 19th he advanced to Kilianpore, on the

20th to Poorah, and on the 21st to Urrowl—marching during early morn,

and encamping in the hotter hours of the day. The day’s work commenced,

indeed, so early as one o’clock in the morning; when the elephants and

camels began to be loaded with their burdens, the equipage and tents

packed up, and the marching arrangements completed. Between two or three

o’clock, all being in readiness, away went infantry, cavalry, artillery,

engineers, commissariat, and a countless host of natives, horses,

camels, elephants, bullocks, and vehicles—covering an area of which the

real soldiers occupied but a very small part. They marched or rode till

about six o’clock; when all prepared for breakfast, and for a hot day

during which little active exertion was possible without imminent danger

of _coup de soleil_. Sir Colin’s train of munition and supplies was

enormous; for, in addition to the usual baggage of an army, he had to

take large commissariat supplies with him. The villagers held aloof in a

manner not usual in the earlier stages of the mutiny, and in other parts

of India; they did not come forward to engage in a traffic which would

certainly have been profitable to them, in selling provisions to the

army. Whether this arose from inability or disinclination, was a matter

for controversy; but the fact itself occasioned embarrassment and

uneasiness to a commander who had to drag with his army a huge train of

animals and vehicles filled with food. The enormous number of natives,

too, that accompanied the force, with their wives and families, exerted

its usual cumbrous effect on the movements of the troops; so that the

fighting-men themselves bore but a minute fractional ratio to the living

and dead accompaniments of the column. It is useless to complain of

this. An army of five thousand, or any other number, of British troops

_must_ have a large train of native attendants, to contend against the

peculiarities of Indian climate and Indian customs. Mr Russell, marching

with this portion of the late ‘Army of Oude,’ said: ‘If the people we

see around us, who are ten or twelve to one as compared with us in this

camp, were—not to arm and cut our throats, or poison us, or anything of

that kind—but simply bid us a silent good-bye this night, and leave us,

India would be lost to us in a day. It requires only that, and all the

power of England could not hold the eastern empire. We could not even

strike our tents without these men to-morrow. We are dependent on

them—even the common soldier is—for the water we drink and the meals we

eat, for our transport, for all but the air we breathe; and the latter,

it must be admitted, is not improved by them sometimes. The moment that

such a thing becomes possible as a popular desertion, through patriotic

or any other motives, from the service of the state, it becomes

impossible to hold India except upon sufferance. It is the rupee,

self-interest, and the necessities of a population trained to follow

camps, which afford guarantees against such a secession—unlikely enough

indeed in any nation, and scarcely possible in any war.... We are, in

fact, waging war against Hindoos and Mussulmans by the aid and with the

consent of other Hindoos and Mussulmans, just as Alexander was able to

beat Porus by the aid of his Indian allies; and no European or other

state can ever rule in India without the co-operation and assistance of

a large proportion of the races which inhabit the vast peninsula.’

Sir Colin marched on the 22d to Meerun-ke-serai, near the ruins of the

ancient city of Canouje; on the 23d to Gosaigunje; and on the 24th to

Kamalgunje—approaching each day nearer to Furruckabad. Every day’s

camping-ground was selected near the Ganges, both for the sake of

salubrity, and to check if possible the passage of rebel bands over the

river from Oude into the Doab. On the 25th the column reached

Furruckabad, or rather the adjacent English station of Futteghur.

General Penny came from a neighbouring district to confer with the

commander-in-chief on matters connected with the Rohilcund campaign, and

then returned to the column or brigade which he commanded. Futteghur had

regained a part of its former importance, as the place where most of the

artillery-carriages and sepoy-clothing were made, and where vast

quantities of timber and cloth had fallen as spoil to the enemy.

The sojourn at Futteghur was very brief. The electric telegraph had been

busy transmitting information to and from Allahabad; and as Sir Colin’s

plans were already made, he lost no time in putting them in execution.

The main plan comprised four movements—Campbell from Futteghur, Walpole

from Lucknow, Jones from Roorkee, and Penny from Puttealee; all intended

to hem the rebels into the middle of Rohilcund, and there crush them.

The marches of Walpole and Jones have already been noticed; Penny was to

march his column towards Meerunpore Muttra, between Shahjehanpoor and

Bareilly, after crossing the Ganges near Nudowlee; while the

commander-in-chief was to enter Rohilcund directly from Futteghur. In

the middle of the night between the 26th and 27th his column, elephants

and guns and all, crossed the Ganges by the bridge of boats, and entered

the province which was to be a scene of hostilities. After a few hours

the column reached the river Ramgunga, which it crossed by the bridge of

boats fortunately secured by Walpole as the fruit of his victory at

Allygunje; and soon afterwards the commander-in-chief effected a

junction with Walpole, at Tingree near the Ramgunga. No very long time

for repose was allowed; stern work was to be done, and the sooner

commenced, the less would it be checked by heat and prohibited by rains.

A march of a few hours brought the now united columns to Jelalabad—one

of many places of that name in India. It was a fort which had lately

been occupied by a small body of matchlockmen, who had precipitately

abandoned it when news of Sir Colin’s approach reached them. A small

village lay near, and was governed by the fort. The Moulvie of Fyzabad

was believed to have intended to make a stand at this place, but to have

abandoned it for a larger stronghold at Shahjehanpoor. On the 29th, a

further approach was made to Kanth. Each day was pretty well like that

which preceded it—the same early marching, camping, and resting, and the

same struggle with the camp-followers, who, however closely watched,

pertinaciously plundered the villages through or near which they

passed—thereby terrifying and exasperating all villagers alike, whether

friendly or unfriendly to the British. This system of plunder by the

camp-followers was one of the greatest troubles to which the generals of

the several columns were exposed; severe punishments were threatened,

but all in vain.

It was on the last day of the month that Sir Colin Campbell and General

Walpole arrived at Shahjehanpoor; and then it was to learn that the wily

and active Moulvie had again outmanœuvred them. The plan had been to

draw a cordon more and more closely round the rebels at Shahjehanpoor

and Bareilly, and thus to catch them as in a trap. But the Moulvie would

not enter the trap. He held Shahjehanpoor, with a considerable force of

men and guns, as long as he deemed it safe, and then escaped just at the

right moment. It was well to regain Shahjehanpoor, after that place had

been eleven months in the hands of rebels; but it was vexing to learn

that the Moulvie had retreated towards Oude—the very province where his

presence was least desired by the British. Nena Sahib, it was also

ascertained, had quitted Shahjehanpoor a few days earlier, and just

before leaving, had ordered the government buildings to be destroyed, in

order that the British troops might find no shelter when they arrived.

This cowardly, ruthless, but active and inventive chieftain succeeded in

his aim in this matter; there were few roofed buildings left, and the

encampment had to be effected under a tope of trees, with earthen

intrenchments thrown up around.

It is evident, from this summary of Rohilcund affairs, that the

operations against the rebels in that province did not advance far

during the month of April, as concerns any effective crushing of the

rebellion. The insurgents were beaten wherever met with; but their

ubiquity and vitality greatly puzzled Sir Colin and his brigadier; and

it remained to be seen how far the month of May would witness the

re-establishment of British authority in Rohilcund and Oude. Some of the

columns and field-forces had penetrated from the east and south as far

as Shahjehanpoor, others from the west and northwest as far as

Mooradabad; but Bareilly, the chief city in Rohilcund, had not been

reached by any of them at the end of April.

Few events caused more regret in the army at this period than the death

of Captain Sir William Peel, the gallant seaman who had earned so high a

reputation as commander of the Naval Brigade. After his wound, received

at Lucknow, he was carried in a doolie or litter to Cawnpore; and when

at that station he gradually became able to walk about slowly by the aid

of a stick. He soon, however, exhibited symptoms of small-pox, which,

acting on a system at once ardent and debilitated, proved fatal. He died

at Cawnpore after Sir Colin Campbell’s force had departed from that

place towards Futteghur; and thus the Queen and the country lost the

services of an eminent son of an eminent statesman. Every one felt the

justice of the special compliment paid to this gallant naval officer by

the governor-general, in the official order issued immediately on the

receipt of the news of Peel’s death.[168] Throughout the Crimean,

Persian, and Indian wars, the British navy had been engaged in less

fighting than many of its ardent members wished; and it was therefore

all the more incumbent on the authorities to notice the exertions of

naval brigades when on shore.

Throughout the extent of the Upper Doab, the British officers found much

difficulty in maintaining a fair stand against the rebels. Not that

there were large bodies of trained sepoys in the field, as in the

regions just described, and in Central India; but there were numerous

chieftains, each at the head of a small band of followers, ready to

harass any spot not protected by English troops. Brigadier Penny, in

command of a field-force organised at Delhi, was watching the district

between that city and the Ganges—ready to put down insurgents wherever

he could encounter them, and hoping to assist the commander-in-chief in

Rohilcund. Another column, under Brigadier Seaton, controlled the region

around Futteghur before Sir Colin reached that place; and he, like

Penny, Jones, Walpole, Hope Grant, Lugard, and all the other commanders

of sections of the army, found an active watchfulness of the enemy

necessary. One among Seaton’s engagements in the month of April may be

briefly noticed. On the 6th, when evening had darkened into night, he

marched from Futteghur to attack a body of rebels concerning whom he had

received information. He took with him about 1400 men—comprising 600 of

H.M. 82d under Colonel Hall, 400 Sikhs under Captain Stafford, 150

cavalry under Lieutenant St John, and 200 of the Futteghur

mounted-police battalion under Lieutenant de Kantzow—together with five

guns under Major Smith. After marching all night, Seaton came up with

the enemy at seven in the morning, at a place called Kankur. The enemy’s

force was very large, though not well organised, and included nearly a

thousand troopers well mounted and armed. After an artillery-fire on

both sides, and a sharp fire from Enfield rifles, the 82d rushed

forward, entered the village, and worked terrible execution. The rebels

fled, abandoning their camp, ammunition, and stores; together with

papers and correspondence which threw light on some of the hitherto

obscure proceedings of the mutineers. The rebel Rajah of Minpooree was

the chief leader of the insurgents, and with him were Ismael Khan and

Mohson Ali Khan.

The Minpooree district was much troubled by this rebellious rajah; but

as Futteghur on the one side, and Agra on the other, were now in English

hands, the rebels were more readily kept in subjection. Agra itself was

safe, and so was the main line of road thence through Muttra to Delhi.

One of the few pleasant scenes of the month, at Delhi, was the awarding

of honour and profit to a native who had befriended Europeans in the

hour of greatest need. Ten months before, when mutiny was still new and

terrible, the native troops at Bhurtpore rose in revolt, and compelled

the Europeans in the neighbourhood to flee for their lives. The poor

fugitives, thirty-two in number—chiefly women and children—roamed from

place to place, uncertain where they might sleep in peace. On one day

they arrived at the village of Mahonah. Here they met with one Hidayut

Ali, a ressaldar (troop-captain), of a regiment of irregular cavalry

which had mutinied at Mozuffernugger; he was on furlough or leave of

absence at his native village, and did not join his mutinous companions.

He received the fugitives with kindness and courtesy, fed them

liberally, gave them a comfortable house, renewed their toil-worn

garments, posted village sentries to give notice of the approach of any

mutineers, disregarded a rebuke sent to him by the insurgents at Delhi,

formed the villagers into an escort, and finally placed the thirty-two

fugitives in a position which enabled them safely to reach Agra. This

noble conduct was not forgotten. In April the commissioner held a grand

durbar at Delhi, made a complimentary speech to Hidayut Ali, presented

him with a sword valued at a thousand rupees, and announced that the

government intended to bestow upon him the jaghire or revenues of his

native village.

Good-fortune continued to mark the wide and important region of the

Punjaub, in the absence of any of those great assemblages of rebels

which so distracted the provinces further to the southeast. Nevertheless

Sir John Lawrence found a demand on him for unceasing watchfulness. The

longer the struggle continued in Hindostan and Central India, the more

danger was there that the Punjaubees, imbibing an idea that the British

were weak, would encourage a hope of regaining national independence.

There was also a grave question involved in the constitution of the

native army. When the troubles began in the month of May, and when

Canning was beset with so many difficulties in his attempt to send up

troops from Calcutta, John Lawrence came to the rescue in a manner

deserving the lasting gratitude of all concerned in the maintenance of

British rule in India. He felt a trusty reliance that the inhabitants of

the Punjaub, governed as he (aided by Montgomery, Cotton, Edwardes, and

other energetic men) had governed them, would remain faithful, and would

be willing to accept active service as soldiers in British pay. His

trust was well founded. He sent to Delhi those troops, without which the

conquest of the city could not have been effected; and he continued to

raise regiment after regiment of Sikhs and Punjaubees—equipping,

drilling, and paying a number so large as to constitute in itself a

powerful army. But there would necessarily be a limit to this process.

The Sikhs were faithful so far; but what if they should begin to feel

their power, and turn to a national object the arms which had been given

to them to fight in the British cause? Not many years had elapsed since

they had fought fiercely at Moultan and Lahore, Sobraon and

Chillianwalla, Moodkee and Ferozshah, against those very English whom

they were now defending; and it was at least possible, if not probable,

that dreams of reconquest might occupy their thoughts. Sir John Lawrence

brought to an end his further raising of regiments; and there can be

little doubt that the governor-general and the commander-in-chief

appreciated the motives by which he had been influenced. In political

affairs the Punjaub was very active; for not only did Lawrence become

chief authority over a larger region than before, but many of his

assistants were taken away from him. When Sir James Outram went to

Calcutta as a member of the supreme council, Mr Montgomery was appointed

chief-commissioner of Oude, and took with him many of the most

experienced civilians from Lahore to Lucknow. This necessitated great

changes in the _personnel_ of the Punjaub civil service, the

commissionerships and sub-commissionerships of districts, &c.

Peshawur, the most remote portion of Northwest India, was throughout the

period of the Revolt more troubled by marauding mountaineers than by

revolted sepoys. Very few Hindoos inhabited that region; the population

was mostly Mussulman, especially among the hills; and these followers of

Islam had but little sympathy with those in Hindostan Proper. The

disturbances, such as they were, were of local character. In April, it

became necessary to visit with some severity certain tribes which

throughout the winter had been engaged in rebellion and rapine. General

Cotton and Colonel Edwardes, two of the most trusted officers in the

Indian army, collected a column at Nowsherah for service against the

hill-men; and at the close of the month there were nearly four thousand

men in rendezvous, ready for service. It comprised detachments of H.M.

81st and 98th foot; of the 8th, 9th, and 18th Punjaub infantry; of other

native infantry; of the 7th and 18th irregular cavalry; of the Guide

cavalry; and of various artillery and engineer corps. On the 28th of the

month, Cotton was at a place among the hills called Mungultana, a

stronghold of some of the frontier fanatics. The place was easily taken,

and the insurgents dispersed; as they were at Jelemkhana, Sitana, and

other places, soon afterwards; but it was hard work for the troops, over

very bad roadless tracks in hot weather.

[Illustration:

Fort of Peshawur.

]

It was a strange but hopeful sign that, amid all the sanguinary

proceedings in India—the ruthless barbarities of some among the sepoys

and rebels, and the military retributions wrought by the British—amid

all this, the peaceful, civilising agency of railways was steadily

though slowly advancing. A recent chapter shewed that the grand

trunk-railway was extended into the Doab, the very hot-bed of

insurrection, during the month of March: the engineers, mechanics, and

labourers having been accustomed to resume their operations as soon as

the insurgents were driven away from any spot where the works were in

progress. In the Madras and Bombay presidencies, little affected by

rebellion, various railways were gradually advancing; and now, in the

month of April, the province of Sinde was to have its heyday of railway

rejoicing. In an earlier portion of the volume,[169] a brief account was

given of the schemes, present and prospective, for supplying India with

railways. Among those was one for a line, 120 miles in length, from

Kurachee to Hydrabad in Sinde: expected, if no difficulties intervened,

to be finished towards the close of 1859. This was to be one link in a

vast and extensive chain, if the hopes of its projectors were ever

realised. Kurachee is not at the mouth of the Indus; but it has an

excellent harbour, in which large merchantmen can cast anchor; and

engineers were enabled to shew that a little over one hundred miles of

railway would connect this port with the Indus at a point above the

delta of that river, and just where Hydrabad, the chief city of Sinde,

is situated. Such a railway would, in fact, bear a remarkably close

analogy to that in Egypt, from Alexandria to Cairo—each connecting a

seaport with a capital, and avoiding delta navigation much impeded by

shallows and shifting sands. From Hydrabad there are 570 miles of Indus

available for river-steaming up to Moultan, in the Punjaub. From that

city a railway would be planned through Lahore to Umritsir, where a

junction would be formed with the grand trunk-line, and thus Kurachee

connected with Calcutta by rapid means of travel—a great scheme, worthy

of the age and the country. It could, however, only have small

beginnings. On the 29th of April, the first sod of the ‘Sinde Railway’

was turned at Kurachee. It would be well if all rejoicings were based on

such rational grounds as those which marked that day in the young

Alexandria of Western India. Mr Frere, commissioner of Sinde, presided

over the ceremonies. All was gaiety. The 51st regiment lent its aid in

military pomp; and all the notabilities of the place—political,

military, naval, clerical, commercial, and engineering—were gathered

together. And not only so; but the lookers-on comprised many of those

who well marvelled what a railway could be, and how a carriage could

move without visible means of draught or propulsion—Parsees, Hindoos,

Beloochees, Sindians, Afghans, Punjaubees—all were there, with their

picturesque garments, and their little less picturesque native vehicles.

How the officiating dignitary turned the sod and wheeled the barrow; how

the band played and the people cheered; how the chief personages

celebrated the event by a dinner; how, at that dinner, a triumphant

specimen of confectionary was displayed, comprising sweetmeat Kurachees,

Calcuttas, rivers, mosques, ghats, temples, wheelbarrows, pick-axes,

rails, locomotives, bridges, tunnels—need not be told: they belong to

one remarkable aspect of modern European and American society, which

becomes doubly interesting when exhibited among the less active, more

sensuous orientals.

We now turn to that stormy, unsettled region southwest of the Jumna,

comprising Bundelcund, Central India, and Rajpootana.

Probably no commander had a series of more uninterrupted successes

during the wars of the mutiny than Sir Hugh Rose. Looking neither to

Calcutta nor to the Punjaub, for aid, but relying on the resources of

the Bombay presidency, he gradually accumulated a force for service in

Central India which defeated the rebels wherever they were met with. We

have seen that, in January, Sir Hugh was busily engaged in defeating and

dispersing rebels at Ratgurh, and in various parts of the district

between Bhopal and Saugor. We find him in February relieving the British

garrison which had for so many months been shut up within the fort of

the last-named city, and then clearing a vast range of country in the

direction of Jhansi. Lastly, we have seen how, after subduing a district

in which rebellious Mahrattas were very numerous, he approached nearer

and nearer to Jhansi during the early weeks of March; that he arrived

within a short distance of that city on the 21st of that month, with the

second brigade of the Central India field-force; that the rebels

fortified the walls of the town, and shut themselves up within the town

and fort; that the mutinied sepoys and rebel Bundelas in the place were

computed at eleven or twelve thousand; that the Ranee of Jhansi had left

her palace to seek greater safety in the fort; that Rose’s first brigade

joined him on the 25th; and that he then commenced the siege in a

determined manner. From this point, the narrative of Sir Hugh’s

operations may be carried into the following month.

Before the first week in April had terminated, this distinguished

general had gained very considerable advantages over the enemy. At

daybreak on the first of the month, his force encountered an army of the

enemy outside the walls of Jhansi, and completely defeated them. The

rebels were commanded by a Mahratta chieftain, Tanteea Topee, a relative

of Nena Sahib, who had marched thither in the hope of being able to

relieve his brother rebels shut up within the beleaguered city. Sir Hugh

divided his force into two parts—one to continue the siege, and the

other to meet Tanteea Topee in the field. The rebels, including among

their number two regiments of the traitorous Gwalior Contingent, fought

desperately; but Rose succeeded in turning their left flank with

artillery and cavalry, breaking up their array, and putting them to

flight. It was a severe contest, for the rebels defended themselves

individually to the last, even when their order of battle was broken.

Rose pursued them to the river Betwah, and captured all their guns and

ammunition. During the pursuit, they endeavoured to check him by setting

the jungle on fire; but his cavalry and horse-artillery, nothing

daunted, galloped through the flames, and kept close at the heels of the

fugitives. The whole line of retreat became strewed with dead bodies;

and it was estimated that the day’s sanguinary work had cost the enemy

not less than fifteen hundred men.

This battle was followed by a result more favourable than Sir Hugh had

ventured to hope. The ranee, shut up within Jhansi, well knew that

Tanteea Topee was hastening to her assistance; for there was everywhere

an intercommunication between the insurgents too close for the British

to baffle. She knew of his approach, and hoped that he would be able to

defeat and drive away the besiegers; but the battle of the Betwah

dismayed her, and the result was very favourable to the British. In

arranging for the siege, Sir Hugh divided his infantry into four

detachments, two on the right and two on the left. H.M. 86th, and the

25th Bombay infantry, soon gained the walls, some by breach and others

by escalade. Lieutenant Dartnell of the 86th, who was foremost in the

assault, narrowly escaped being cut to pieces directly he entered the

place. These two regiments were on the left attack. The attack on the

right was less successful, owing to the use of defective ladders; the

troops were for some time exposed to a murderous fire; but at length

they entered the place, and joined their companions near the ranee’s

palace. A discovery was now made. The ranee had evacuated the place

during the night, with such of her troops as could break through the

cordon which Rose endeavoured to draw round Jhansi. In the endeavour of

the garrison to escape, the slaughter was terrible; insomuch that,

during the storming of the fort and the pursuit of the garrison, more

than three thousand of the rebels were laid low, besides the fifteen

hundred during the battle. Much of this slaughter was within the city

itself; for the towns-people were believed to have favoured the rebels,

and the soldiers took severe vengeance before their officers could check

the bloodshed. All this stern fighting could not be carried on without

loss on the part of the British. Sir Hugh had to lament the fall of

Lieutenant-colonel Turnbull, Captain Sinclair, Lieutenants Meicklejohn

and Park, and Dr Stack, besides a number of non-commissioned officers

and privates. The evacuation of the place in so sudden a way greatly

lessened his chance of loss, for its defence might have been long

continued. ‘Jhansi,’ he said in his telegraphic dispatch, ‘is not a

fort, but its strength makes it a fortress; it could not have been

breached; it could only have been taken by mining and blowing up one

bastion after another.’

After this signal defeat of the rebels at Jhansi, the victorious army of

Sir Hugh gradually prepared to move towards Calpee, a town on the Jumna,

on the line of road from Jhansi to Cawnpore. Symptoms appeared to shew

that a struggle would take place at this spot. Two rebel leaders made

renewed exertions to regain lost ground in that region. The chief of

these was Tanteea Topee, lately defeated at Jhansi; he had with him two

mutinied infantry regiments, seven hundred cavalry, a large following of

Ghazees or fanatics, and twelve guns. The other was Ram Rao Gobind, who

had the command of three thousand rabble and four guns. These two

leaders resolved to act on some common plan; and Sir Hugh Rose equally

resolved to defeat them. Nevertheless this gallant officer had much need

for careful planning long after he was master of Jhansi. He had a large

number of sick and wounded, whose safety it would be necessary to

provide for; and the roads around that city were still infested with

remnants of the Kotah rebels and the Chanderee garrison. He himself

remained at Jhansi until such time as he could resume his march without

danger to those left behind; but he gave active employment to portions

of his force. About the middle of the month he sent Major Orr with a

column from Jhansi across the Betwah to Mhow, to clear that part of the

country of rebels, and afterwards to join Rose and the main body of the

force on the road to Calpee; the major had many small encounters with

the rajahs of Bampore and Shagurh, and with detached parties of rebels.

Some days afterwards, on the 21st, Sir Hugh despatched Major Gall, with

detachments of cavalry and artillery, to a point on the Calpee road, to

watch the enemy and aid Major Orr if necessary. Gall, besides other

minor engagements, captured a fort belonging to the Rajah of Sumpter;

the rebels in it proved to be disguised mutineers of the 12th Bengal

native infantry, who fought desperately until all were killed. Sir Hugh,

with his first brigade and head-quarters, did not take his departure

from Jhansi until the 25th. He marched ten miles that day to Boregaum,

on the Calpee road, and resumed his progress on subsequent days. His

second brigade was soon to follow him—with the exception of detachments

of the 3d Bombay Europeans, the 24th Bombay native infantry, and

artillery, left under the charge of Colonel Liddell to protect Jhansi

and the sick and wounded. Rumours reached Sir Hugh that four of the

rebel leaders—the Ranee of Jhansi, Tanteea Topee, the Rajah of Shagurh,

and the Rajah of Bampore—with seven thousand men and four guns, intended

if possible to intercept him, and prevent his march to Calpee. To what

result all these manœuvres on both sides led, was left to the month of

May to determine.

While these operations were going on in and near the Jhansi district,

General Whitlock, with a column of Madras troops, was engaged a little

further eastward, in a district of Bundelcund having Banda for its chief

town. He was frequently in contact with large or small bodies of rebels.

One of these struggles took place on the 19th of April, when he

encountered a force of seven thousand insurgents headed by the Nawab of

Banda. Whitlock defeated the Nawab, captured Banda, killed five hundred

of the enemy, and took several guns. After this victory, he gradually

worked his way towards Calpee, to aid in Rose’s operations.

The city of Saugor remained in a somewhat peculiar condition during the

spring months—secure itself, but surrounded by a disturbed district. The

European residents were living in cantonments, sufficiently protected by

troops left there by General Whitlock after he relieved the place early

in February. These troops were neither stationary nor idle; the vicinity

was swarming with rebels and malcontents, whom it was necessary to check

by frequent pursuit and defeat. Those two exceptions to the generally

mutinous condition of the Bengal native army, the 31st and 42d

regiments, still remained in and near Saugor—or such portions of them as

had not become tainted by insubordination. Divided into small

detachments, they assisted the European and Madras troops in keeping

open the line of communication between Saugor and the district marked by

the victorious operations of Sir Hugh Rose.

Turning to the Mahratta and Rajpootana states, we find that, on the 2d

of April, a large body of rebels, many thousands in number, with ten

guns, crossed the Parbuttee river at Copoind into Scindia’s Gwalior

territory. They were fleeing from Kotah, where a British force had

severely handled them. Scindia still remained true to his alliance. Many

of his officers, each with a small force, opposed the rebels at

different points, drove them back across the river, and overturned many

of their guns and wagons in the stream. The rebels, accompanied by large

numbers of women and children, made their way by other routes towards

Bundelcund.

Kotah, just mentioned, was closely connected with the insurgent and

military operations in Rajpootana. It will be remembered[170] that in

the month of March General Roberts, commanding the Rajpootana

field-force, marched from Nuseerabad towards Kotah, accompanied by

Richard Lawrence as political representative; that many difficulties had

to be surmounted on the march; that Kotah was reached on the 22d; and

that Roberts captured that place just before the end of the month,

defeating a large body of rebels, and obtaining possession of an

extensive store of ordnance and ammunition. After this victory, Roberts

remained a long time at Kotah. Many other places would have welcomed his

appearance; but there were doubts how far Kotah could safely be left,

seeing that the neighbourhood was in a very disaffected state. The Kotah

rebels, on the other hand, were greatly disconcerted at the news of the

fall of Jhansi, which interfered with their plans and hopes. They had

been camping for a while at Kularus, on the road from Gwalior to Bombay,

but began now to move off towards the south. Captain Mayne, with some of

Scindia’s troops, was at that place on the 11th of April, and found that

the Kotah rebels, about four thousand strong, with six guns, had joined

the rebel Rajah of Nirwur, six miles distant. Captain Mayne was

preparing to watch and follow them, but the troops at his command

consisted of only a few hundred men, and he could do little more than

reconnoitre. Later in the month, General Roberts organised a column to

look after the rebels at Goonah, Chupra, and other places. The column

consisted of H.M. 95th foot, the 10th Bombay native infantry, a wing of

the 8th hussars, a wing of the 1st lancers, and a troop of

horse-artillery; and it started from Kotah for active service on the

24th. Thus the month of April passed away; Roberts himself remaining at

Kotah; while some of his officers, each with a detachment of the

Rajpootana field-force, were engaged in chastising bodies of rebels in

the turbulent region on the border of the Rajpoot and Mahratta

territories. Like Sir Hugh Rose at Jhansi, he had to consider how his

conquered city would fare if he quitted it.

The province of Gujerat, lying as it does between Rajpootana and Bombay,

was narrowly watched by the government of that presidency; and as one

precaution, all the inhabitants were disarmed. On the 8th of April, a

field-force, comprising about a thousand men of all arms, left Ahmedabad

to conduct the disarming. Another column of about the same strength was

preparing to march from the same station about a week later. It was

expected that the difficulties of the troops would arise, not so much

from the opposition of the natives, as from the gradually increasing

heat of the weather.

Southward of Bombay there was still, as in the earlier months of the

year, just so much of insubordination as to need careful watching on the

part of the government, but without presenting any very alarming

symptoms. The small Mahratta state of Satara was a little troubled. Two

officers of the recently deposed rajah, his commander-in-chief and his

commandant of artillery, were detected in treasonable correspondence

with Nena Sahib. One of them, having been found guilty, was sentenced to

be hanged; the indignity struck with horror one imbued with high-caste

notions, and he asked to be blown away from a gun as a more noble death;

this was refused; and under the influence of dismay and grief, he made a

confession which afforded a clue to a further conspiracy. There was much

in these southern Mahrattas which puzzled the authorities. To what

extent the natives were bound into a brotherhood by secret compact, the

English never could and never did know. Much comment was excited by an

occurrence at Kolapore, where two native officers were blown away from

guns, on conviction of being concerned in the mutiny and rebellion. It

was remembered that those very men had sat on courts-martial which

condemned numbers of their fellow-mutineers to the same punishment which

was their own ultimate doom. One of the principal witnesses against them

was a colleague whom they had sentenced to death, but who escaped by

making a confession which implicated them. Many others, however,

condemned by the court of which these two men were members, died without

making a similar confession, although it was believed that they also

might have implicated their judges.

Note.

_Native Police of India._—So peculiar was the position of the native

police of India—as a medium between the military and the civilians,

and between the government and the people—that it may be desirable

to say a few words on the organisation of that body. All parties

agreed that this organisation was defective in many points, and

numerous reforms were suggested; but the Revolt found the police

system still in force unreformed. The information here given is

obtained chiefly from a dispatch sent from the India House about six

months before the Revolt began, at a time when few or none saw the

dark shadow that was hovering over our eastern empire.

In Bengal, each district was subdivided into smaller jurisdictions,

each having its local police. The police were charged with duties

both preventive and detective. They were prohibited from inquiring

into cases of a petty nature; but complaints in cases of a more

serious character were usually laid before the police

_darogah_—whose duties were something more than those of an English

police superintendent, something less than those of an English

magistrate. The darogah was authorised to examine the complaints

brought before him, to issue process of arrest, to summon witnesses,

to examine the accused, and to forward the case to the magistrate or

collector-magistrate, or submit a report of his proceedings,

according as the evidence seemed to warrant the one or the other

course.

In the Northwest Provinces the native revenue-officers called

_tehsildars_ were, at the discretion of the government, invested

with the powers of police darogahs; whereas in Bengal the revenue

service was kept wholly distinct from the police or magisterial.

In the Madras presidency, the duties ordinarily performed in Bengal

by the police darogahs were, even more generally than in the

Northwest Provinces, performed by the tehsildar; indeed it was a

recognised part of the system that the tehsildar and the darogah

were the same person. This double function carried with it an

increase of power. The Madras tehsildar-darogah was authorised, not

only to inquire into petty cases (which the Bengal darogah was

prohibited from doing), but also to proceed in certain specified

instances to judgment, sentence, and the infliction of punishment.

In the Bombay presidency, the revenue and police functions were,

until a recent period, combined in the same way as in Madras. The

tehsildars, besides their revenue duties, were authorised in their

police capacity to investigate all complaints of a criminal nature,

and to exercise a penal jurisdiction in respect of certain petty

offences. Within a few months before the Revolt, however, a change

was made in the organisation. A new officer, a superintendent of

police, was placed under the magistrate. The magistrate, confining

himself for the most part to judicial and administrative matters,

left to his superintendent of police the control of the executive

police and the command of the entire stipendiary body, with the

initiative in the prevention and detection of crime. To aid this

superintendent in the supervision of the district police, there was

placed in each police division an officer called joint-police

_amildar_; whose duties, in regard to the preservation of the public

peace and the investigation of serious crimes, were nearly similar

to those of the Bengal darogah, but without including any power of

punishing even for the most trivial offences.

It thus appears that, apart from the penal powers exercised by the

Madras district police, the Bengal _darogah_, the Madras

_tehsildar_, and the Bombay _amildar_, all acted to a certain extent

judicially when engaged in investigating crimes of a serious nature.

They examined the parties and the evidence, and they formed a

judgment on the case to the extent of deciding whether it was one

for the immediate arrest of the accused and transmission to the

magistrate, or otherwise.

No doubt the founders of this police system anticipated beneficial

results from it; but those results were not obtained. It was very

inefficient for the detection of crime, and almost useless for

prevention. There were defects both in organisation and in

procedure. The police force attached to each division was too much

localised and isolated; and the notion of combination between any

separate parts of it, with a view of accomplishing extensive police

objects, was seldom entertained. Although unable to check crime to

the extent intended and hoped for, the police were very unscrupulous

in their mode of wielding their authority, and bore a very general

character for oppression and corruption. The great source of

mischief was found to be, the want of efficient control and

overlooking. The native police had a proneness to oriental modes of

administering justice, in which bribery and barbarity perform a

great part: this tendency required to be constantly checked by

Europeans; and if the magistrate or collector-magistrate found his

time too fully occupied to exercise this supervision, the police

wrought much mischief, and brought the English ‘raj’ into disfavour.

Where the district was smaller than usual, or where the magistrate

was more than commonly zealous and active, the police were found to

be more efficient through more supervision. Whenever it was found

necessary to grapple effectually with any particular crimes, such as

_thuggee_ or _dacoitee_, the ordinary police proved to be wholly

useless; an entirely separate instrumentality was needed. Besides

the want of effective supervision, the native police were underpaid,

and had therefore an excuse for listening to the temptations of

bribery.

In the dispatch already adverted to, written by the Court of

Directors, a course of improvement was pointed out, without which

the native police, it was affirmed, could not rise to the proper

degree of efficiency. The suggestions were briefly as follows: To

separate the police from the administration of the land-revenue, in

those provinces where those duties had been customarily united; in

order that the native officer should not be intrusted with double

functions, each of which would interfere with the other. To subject

all the police to frequent visit and inspection, that they might

feel the influence of a vigilant eye over them. To relieve the

collector-magistrate from this addition to his many duties, by

appointing in each district a European officer with no other duty

than that of managing the police of the district, subject to a

general superintendent of police for each presidency. To increase

the salaries of the police, in order that the office might have a

higher dignity in the estimation of the natives, and in order that

the official might be less tempted to extortion or bribery. To

empower the authorities to punish and degrade, more readily than was

before possible, those police who oppressed the people or otherwise

displayed injustice; and to reward those who displayed more than

ordinary intelligence and honesty, a further suggestion was made,

arising out of the organisation of the Punjaub under the Lawrences

and their coadjutors; in which there was a preventive police with a

military organisation, and a wholly distinct detective police with a

civil organisation. This system was found to work so well, that the

Court of Directors submitted to the Calcutta government an inquiry

whether the police generally might not with advantage be thus

separated into two parts, preventive and detective, each exercised

by a different set of men.

The Revolt broke out before the reform of the police system could

commence; and then, like other reforms, it was left to be settled in

more peaceful days.

[Illustration]

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Footnote 165:

The following will give an idea of the mode in which the _Gazette_

announcements were made: ‘24th Bombay N. I.—Lieutenant William

Alexander Kerr; date of act of bravery, July 10, 1857.—On the breaking

out of a mutiny in the 27th Bombay N. I. in July 1857, a party of the

mutineers took up a position in the stronghold or _paga_ near the town

of Kolapore, and defended themselves to extremity. “Lieutenant Kerr,

of the Southern Mahratta Irregular Horse, took a prominent share in

the attack on the position; and at the moment when its capture was of

great public importance, he made a dash at one of the gateways, with

some dismounted horsemen, and forced an entrance by breaking down the

gate. The attack was completely successful, and the defenders were

either killed, wounded, or captured—a result that may with perfect

justice be attributed to Lieutenant Kerr’s dashing and devoted

bravery.” (Letter from the Political Superintendent at Kolapore to the

Adjutant-general of the Army, dated September 10, 1857.)’

Footnote 166:

‘Of the dust it is quite beyond the powers of writing to give a

description. It is so fine and subtle, that long after the causes

which raised it have ceased to exert their influence, you may see it

like a veil of gauze between your eyes and every object. The sun,

while yet six or seven degrees above the horizon, is hid from sight by

it as though the luminary were enveloped in a thick fog; and at early

morning and evening, this vapour of dust suspended high in air seems

like a rain-cloud clinging to a hillside. When this dust is set

rapidly in motion by a hot wind, and when the grosser sand, composed

of minute fragments of talc, scales of mica, and earth, is impelled in

quick successive waves through the heated atmosphere, the effect is

quite sufficient to make one detest India for ever. Every article in

your tent, your hair, eyes, and nose, are filled and covered with this

dust, which deposits a coating half an inch thick all over the

tent.’—W. H. RUSSELL.

Footnote 167:

It may here be remarked that the difficulty of moving heavy ordnance

over the bad roads and roadless tracts of India, painfully felt by the

artillery officers engaged in the war, suggested to the East India

Company an inquiry into the possibility of employing locomotives for

such a purpose. A machine, called ‘Boydell’s Traction Engine,’

patented some time before in England, was tested with a view to

ascertain the degree of its availability for this purpose. The

peculiarity of this engine was, that it was a locomotive _carrying its

own railway_. Six flat boards were ranged round each of the great

wheels in such a way that each board came in succession _under_ the

wheel, and formed, for a few feet, a flat plankroad or tramway for the

wheel to roll upon. It was supposed that the vehicle would move much

more easily by this contrivance, than if the narrow periphery of the

wheel ran upon soft mud or irregular pebbles and gravel. The motion of

the wheel placed each plank down at its proper time and place, and

lifted it up again, in such a way that there was always one of the

boards flat on the ground, beneath the wheel. Colonel Sir Frederick

Abbott and Colonel Sir Proby Cautley, on the part of the directors,

tested this machine at Woolwich—where it drew forty tons of ordnance

along a common road, uphill as well as upon the level. Another

road-locomotive, by Messrs Napier, was tested for a similar purpose.

The results were of good augury for the future; but the machines were

not perfected early enough to be made applicable for the wars of the

mutiny.

Footnote 168:

‘_Allahabad, April 30._—It is the melancholy duty of the Right

Honourable the Governor-general to announce the death of that most

distinguished officer, Captain Sir William Peel, K.C.B., late in

command of her Majesty’s ship _Shannon_, and of the Naval Brigade in

the Northwest Provinces.

‘Sir William Peel died at Cawnpore, on the 27th instant, of small-pox.

He had been wounded at the commencement of the last advance upon

Lucknow, but had nearly recovered from the wound, and was on his way

to Calcutta, when struck by the disease which has brought his

honourable career to an early close.

‘Sir William Peel’s services in the field during the last seven months

are well known in India and in England. But it is not so well known

how great the value of his presence and example has been wherever

during this eventful period his duty has led him.

‘The loss of his daring but thoughtful courage, joined with eminent

abilities, is a very heavy one to his country; but it is not more to

be deplored than the loss of that influence which his earnest

character, admirable temper, and gentle kindly bearing exercised over

all within his reach—an influence which was exerted unceasingly for

the public good, and of which the governor-general believes that it

may with truth be said that there is not a man of any rank or

profession who, having been associated with Sir William Peel in these

times of anxiety and danger, has not felt and acknowledged it.’

Footnote 169:

Chap. vii., NOTES, p. 119.

Footnote 170:

Chap. xxvi., p. 441.

[Illustration:

Summer Costumes, Indian Army.

]