ARRIVAL IN ENGLAND--REVIEW BY HER MAJESTY--EMBARK FOR INDIA.
On arriving at Portsmouth, the 79th was ordered to proceed by rail to
Aldershott, now a very extensive military station. As regiment after
regiment arrived at this place from the Crimea, we congratulated one
another on our safe arrival. The appearance of the Crimean soldier
told at once of his late sufferings;--his care-worn visage, which
could be easily distinguished at the first glance, was a proof that
he had undergone the Crimean campaign. We were told that Her Gracious
Majesty the Queen was to inspect at Aldershott the survivors of the
Crimean army. The day at last arrived, and Her Majesty inspected
regiment after regiment minutely; and to some of her soldiers she
spoke in words of such an affectionate character, that the tears
started in the eyes of those brave fellows, from whom, in the heat of
action, all feelings would be banished; and no wonder that the tears
would start on hearing from the lips of the Queen such words as
these:--“I have watched and prayed for you in your recent struggle;
and now I congratulate you, my brave soldiers, on your return to your
native land; but again I have to deplore the loss of many of the
brave who have fallen in battle.” Language so pathetic could not but
fill the hearts of the soldiers with pride and admiration.
After the breaking up of the camp at Aldershott, the 79th was ordered
to Dover Castle. We were very much disappointed, as we always hoped
that we would have been sent to our native soil; but the soldier’s
motto is obedience. But little did we know that we were soon to be
called away to a far distant land. We passed a few months at Dover,
when we were ordered to Canterbury, where we passed a few months.
From Canterbury we were sent to Shorncliffe, and formed part of
a brigade there. The 79th was again hastily ordered to London,
and were glad of the opportunity of getting a glance of the great
metropolis. We went by rail, and were quartered in Portland Street
Barracks. On the following day we were reviewed in Hyde Park; the
Queen and all the officers of state were present, and thousands of
spectators viewed with admiration the defenders of their country. We
were next ordered to Dublin, and at the shortest notice took rail
for Liverpool, and embarked on board a steamer for Dublin. We landed
at Kingstown after a passage of forty-eight hours, and proceeded by
rail to Dublin; and it was here, in the summer of 1857, we received
the alarming intelligence of the Indian mutiny--a mutiny which
brought along with it crimes of the deepest dye. What was now to be
done? All eyes were turned to the safety of our empire in the east;
statesmen turned pale, and officers were eagerly bent on promotion.
Our country looked for an able general to go at once to India and
quell the rebellion, which had already been kindled into a flame.
All eyes were turned on officers of experience to take command in
India. Such a general Her Most Gracious Majesty found in Sir Colin
Campbell, and he was selected for the duty. A short interview between
Her Majesty and Sir Colin was sufficient to enable the gallant chief
at once to proceed to the seat of war. When asked how soon he could
be ready to proceed, he replied, “To-morrow morning shall see me in
France!”
The 79th were again ordered to the seat of war, and India was the
country of our destination. Details of the horrid cruelties of the
sepoys were arriving daily, and feelings of indignation were aroused
throughout our land, and we soldiers burned to be revenged on the
black villains, and the 79th went on board at Kingstown on the 27th
of July, 1857. The hopes I had hitherto entertained of visiting my
friends in bonny Scotland were now blighted; but duty called, and
there was nought for it but to obey. After bidding adieu to all
around us, we stood out to sea, and on the following morning we lost
sight of land. As I have kept a diary of my homeward passage, I will
pass over the outward voyage.
I shall not now trouble my readers by telling about catching
albatrosses, flying fish, spearing dolphins, hooking sharks,
weathering the Cape, taking in water, latitudes and longitudes,
and keeping a log-book. Suffice it to say, that after a tedious
passage we arrived at Calcutta on the 27th of November. We found
the inhabitants of this city in a state of great anxiety on account
of the mutiny. As we sailed up the river Hooghly, we were greeted
with cheers by our countrymen. It was then that the soldier was
appreciated. Ah! how true are the words of the poet--
“When war’s proclaimed and danger’s nigh,
God and the soldier is the people’s cry;
When war is o’er, and a’thing righted,
God is neglected and the soldier slighted.”
We found Calcutta at this time of the year very hot, especially
in the day time. The roads and streets were very dusty; and it
was a very novel sight to see large numbers of _bheastee wallahs_
(water-carriers) going about naked watering the roads, and keeping
down clouds of dust, which would at every other moment arise and
darken the air.
CHAPTER VIIIa.
OUR CAMPAIGN IN INDIA--MARCH TO CAWNPORE.
After making some arrangements, such as leaving our heavy baggage
and other articles in store at Calcutta, we proceeded at once up the
country. The massacre at Cawnpore, and the cruelty of the sepoys
in many other instances, filled us with horror and alarm for the
safety of our countrymen and women. We crossed the river Hooghly
in flat-bottomed boats, and went by rail to Runeegungee, about one
hundred miles from Calcutta. We remained at this place for a few
days, in order to get waggons and bullocks to carry us to the scene
of strife. The sepoys were at this time exulting in their cruel
work in the kingdom of Oude, and Lucknow, the capital, was in their
possession. The taking of Delhi from the rebel army was already
accomplished by a small force of faithful British. It was a very
trying time for the few brave soldiers (under the command of that
gallant and Christian soldier, General Havelock), who were carrying
on the siege of Delhi; but, although surrounded upon all sides by
the mutineers, and the ravages of cholera leaving its fatal effects
in the little band, yet victory already crowned their efforts, and
Divine Providence paved out a way in a very mysterious manner, and
Delhi was saved. After the fall of Delhi, the sepoys came swarming
across the plains and entered Lucknow. The whole of the rebel army in
Oude and Rochilcunde were flocking daily to Lucknow, and the number
of the rebels in the city was computed at 100,000.
Such, then, was the state of things when we left Runeegungee. It was
a very novel sight to look upon the regiment as we travelled along
the road--some of the men in four-wheeled machines, drawn by upwards
of twenty natives, who ran along the road with a swiftness equal to
a horse; others of us, again, were in waggons drawn by bullocks,
four in each waggon. This mode of conveyance was not so rapid as
the other; still, we jogged along in this manner until we came to
Banares, the sacred city of the Hindoos. We here took up our quarters
in the palace of the Rajah of Banares, and we could already see the
marks of the cruel sepoys. Here we saw the two Bengal tigers said
to have devoured a number of our inoffensive women and children.
The number of bones that could be seen lying about their vicinity
testified the truth of the horrid fact. The miscreant who was the
cause of this terrible crime met the fate he so richly deserved.
So soon as we refreshed ourselves and took an hour or two’s repose,
we proceeded at a quick rate to Allahabad, a town built where the
rivers Ganges and Jumna unite. The fort at this place is famed
for its strength and commanding position, and it now afforded a
safe retreat to the many who were pursued by the fierce and savage
mutineers. After getting our tents and camp equipments and beasts of
burthen, such as camels, elephants, &c., we were prepared to take
the field; and the first affair that took place between us and the
enemy was a slight skirmish a short distance from Allahabad. We had
a native spy, who brought us intelligence that the rebels were not
far distant, and in great force. The regiment received orders to
march at twelve at night, and, with a light battery of artillery, we
went along, our black guide leading the way. We came unexpectedly on
the enemy, and cut up all who came in front, giving no quarter. We
suffered very much from excessive heat and thirst, the long fatiguing
march knocking us completely up; and after arriving in camp from this
our first affray with the black men, we saw at once that the British
soldier was again superior in bravery, and more able to endure
fatigue. The native sepoy could not cope with us in the field; and we
could stand the scorching rays of the sun as well as the natives of
the country, and the cold chilling dews of the night were to us only
as a refreshing summer shower. After this slight skirmish, we were
ordered to Cawnpore--that place which had so recently been the scene
of so much cruelty and bloodshed. The massacre of Cawnpore, and the
horrid cruelties perpetrated there by that monster Nana Sahib and his
legions of black devils, can never be thought of but with feelings of
horror and indignation.
After marching upwards of two hundred miles, exposed to oppressive
heat, thirsty and fatigued, we arrived at Cawnpore in the beginning
of February. The appearance of the town gave proofs of the sufferings
of our countrymen; the skulls and bones of the women and children
were lying bleaching in the scorching sun. How eager were we now
to give the Nana and his cowardly sepoys battle, and to make them
forfeit, at the bayonet’s point, what they took from us in so cruel
a manner, and prayed that the day would not be far distant when we
would meet the tyrant in the field. Lucknow was still in possession
of the rebels, and the capture of the city was decided upon.
Head-quarters of our army were formed about six miles distant from
Lucknow, and to this place every available regiment was marching. Sir
Colin Campbell, with the 93d, had relieved the garrison by this time,
and he was resolved to take the town by assault. The 79th crossed
the Ganges, and marched along the Cawnpore road to Lucknow; but
the enemy annoyed us very often on our march; however, we carried
everything before us at the point of the bayonet. As regiment after
regiment arrived at the encamping ground, we soon formed an army of
10,000; and once more under the command of Sir Colin Campbell, we
were sure of victory. How little did we think when our chief gave
his farewell address to the Highland Brigade in the Crimea, that we
would be in this far distant part of the world; but the soldier is
bound to go wherever his country calls him; the characteristics of
his profession is obedience, patience, and indomitable courage; and
it is this, carried out to the full extent of his military career,
that constitutes the soldier at once a brave and faithful servant
to his Queen and country. Ah! how few of the human family knows
what the soldier suffers during his military career; in how many
instances is he scorned and neglected, and very often sneered at by
his own countrymen. But, my dear reader, bear in mind that he is
your country’s stay in the hour of its great danger;--then despise
him not, “nor count him as a stranger.” How cheerfully he leaves all
that is dear to him--friends and home--exposes his life and braves
the storm in the battle-field, teaching the enemy that Briton’s sons
are brave and generous;--no foul crime, no act of cruelty, can be
attached to his character. Then, gentle reader, although some may
pass him over as uncultivated and unpolished, I doubt not that you
will feel for the defenders of your Fatherland, and sing with the
poet Burns--
“A soldier lad, oh ne’er despise,
Nor count him as a stranger;
Remember he’s your country’s stay
In day and hour of danger.”
We found our little force before Lucknow increasing daily, and we
expected soon to be able to take Lucknow at a _coup-de-main_. We
were making every preparation for the capture; General Outram was to
lead one half of the little army, and his knowledge of the position
of Lucknow was all that could be desired, as he was long resident
there; besides, he was a skilful and brave leader. General Sir Hope
Grant was to command the cavalry, and to place his men in such a
position that none of the rebel army would make their escape, as we
were determined that the whole of the rebels in Lucknow would suffer
that punishment which they so richly deserved, knowing that there
were many of them now in the city who took part in the massacre of
Cawnpore, and in many other places throughout the country. We could
now plainly perceive that they were determined to defend Lucknow to
the last, as we could see them making all preparations to receive us
warmly; still, we were confident of success. Under such generals as
Sir Colin Campbell, Sir H. Grant, and Sir J. Outram, we knew that
Lucknow would be re-taken; but, at the same time, doubting not that
a number of us were looking upon the spires and domes of the city
for the last time. Orders were given to march, and we wound round
the suburbs unmolested. The fragrance of the trees and shrubs at
this place was delightful; vegetation was very rich; the palm-tree
and cedar, the banyan-tree, with its mighty branches and foliage,
under the shade of which upwards of one thousand persons could rest
themselves protected from the rays of the sun. All this looked very
grand; the work of nature could here be seen in its most glorious
perfection; the Divine Author of the universe was so mindful of the
creature of his own creation that, in this far-off land, he planned
everything so wonderfully that one could here look upon nature in her
progressive course, and look up to nature’s God.
We drew very close to the city, and encamped at the Dalkoosa, a very
large building in the vicinity of Lucknow. The Martinerre College was
another great building, fortified by the enemy. After dividing the
army, and making every arrangement for the assault, we rested our
weary limbs for the day, as we expected that in twenty-four hours we
would be in possession of the city. Orders were given to march at two
the following morning. We were to attack both sides of the city at
once, that by so doing we might throw the enemy into confusion. At
last the morning dawned, and we moved stealthily from our encamping
ground, and, after marching round the suburbs, our little army
separated, each regiment to its own respective post. The company to
which I belonged was ordered down to the iron bridge of Lucknow.
Our duty at this bridge was to blockade it, and prevent the enemy
from coming across. We were under the command of our brave officers,
Captain Stevenson and Lieut. J. M‘Nair, upon whom this dangerous and
important duty devolved; and we had to crawl upon our hands and feet
to prevent the enemy from seeing our approach. This accomplished, and
while in breathless silence at our post, we could hear the sepoys
speak to one another, and call out, “All’s well.” Now, the great
thing to be done here was to place a barricade across the nearer end
of the bridge. A volunteer party of one officer, one sergeant, two
corporals, and twenty privates was wanted for this dangerous work.
Lieutenant M‘Nair, Sergeant J. M‘Kenzie, Corporal Leavy, and myself,
with the twenty privates, offered our services. The whole company
were willing to undertake the work, but the number I have mentioned
was sufficient. The first thing we did was to take off our shoes; and
one man was to carry his gabion, another his bag of sand. All was
silent, save the enemy calling out occasionally “all’s well.” As each
man proceeded with his load--Lieutenant M‘Nair leading the way--the
burden that I was carrying was a dead sepoy; the night being dark, I
took him for a bag of sand, and would not have known except for the
smell of his greasy black carcase. However, I had no time to look
for another, so I went along with my darky, and housed him nicely
into the gabion. There are some of my comrades still living who will
never forget the night that Corporal John honoured the darky with a
carry. Our job finished, we were relieved by a party of Fusiliers.
The sepoys saw, when it was too late, what we had accomplished; they
fired in all directions, wounding some of us and killing others. I
received a slight scratch on the arm at this affair. This little
piece of work being done, we gave charge of the bridge to the
Fusiliers, and joined our regiment. Our comrades were anxious to know
how we had succeeded. We related the whole, and they laughed heartily
at the affair of the dead sepoy. The following morning we were to
make a determined attack. The morning came; we crossed the river, and
drove the enemy from their outposts at the point of the bayonet. Our
artillery got a position in the town, and they fired right and left,
making the rebels fly in all directions. Onward we advanced, up one
street and down another. The enemy could be easily distinguished by
his grim and savage appearance. We pursued them into their houses:
“Point and parry” was our motto. The recollections of Cawnpore
aroused us; and the sepoy paid the penalty of his former crime. They
fought desperately when they found there was no escape for them.
The carnage continued for two days, and Lucknow was completely in
our possession. The dead bodies of the enemy were lying everywhere
around. The sight was awful; but I was so well accustomed to these
scenes now, that my compassionate feelings fled. My nature revolted
against me when I thought of mercy to the black savages around
me. “No,” I said, “drink this cup of poison to its dregs (meaning
my bayonet); you were wont to do this, and worse than this, to my
unoffending countrywomen and their infant children!”
On the third day of this eventful period plunder began, and we
sallied out through the city. Some were very lucky; others not
so fortunate. I was so much taken up with the music-boxes and
pianofortes that I profited little. Captain Carnegie was moving about
with authority from Government to stay our raid, but not until he was
in possession of a handsome capital himself was his authority much
exercised; when sprinkled over with gore and carrying victory before
us, he was never seen so near us. No; the poor soldier had to do
the work, and the fraternity of Carnegie’s reaped the fruits of our
labour.
Leaving a portion of the army to garrison, we marched upon a place
called the Black Fort. We left Lucknow at an early hour. The heat
was now excessive during the daytime. At the end of our first day’s
march we found the _camel wallah_ (native driver) that was carrying
the baggage amissing. I was orderly corporal of the company, and my
order-book and company roll were lost. It appeared that the rascal
of a driver bolted with the camel on which my kit and those of my
comrades were packed, and left us therefore with nothing but what was
on our backs. This I reported to my commanding officer, and hoped he
would apply for compensation for us; but what we got from Government
was trifling compared with what we lost. We arrived at last at Fort
Walpole, as we termed it, on account of the general of that name who
was in command of the brigade. By his blunders one way or another, we
were repulsed the first day, after suffering heavy losses in officers
and men. The second day we found that the enemy decamped, leaving
guns and ammunition in our possession. Nothing was now left but to
follow them to their lurking places, and a difficult matter we found
this to be. The warm season was advancing, and the heat of a tropical
climate was already leaving its sting amongst us. Sun-stroke was
daily taking one or two from our number; but we were intent upon the
destruction of the rebel army. Sir Colin was once more with us in
the field, and his presence there always animated us. We had several
skirmishes daily with the sepoys, and cut up a number of them on
our march to Barilly, in Rochilcunde. That part of the country was
infested with the mutineers; and it was believed that Nana Sahib
was there at their head. We lost no time in cutting our way through
every obstacle. Thirst occasioned the greatest of our sufferings; the
parched tongue clove to the mouth; and often did we look in vain for
some spring or running brook where we could quench our thirst. The
natives who carried the water to us wandered in every direction in
search of this great refreshing beverage, and although nearly boiling
with the sun we drank it greedily.
We arrived at Barilly, and found the enemy in great force--upwards
of 30,000 of them prowling here in the jungle. We hoped that they
would make a stand. We attacked them and carried their position.
They fought like demons for about twenty minutes; but we routed them
with heavy loss, captured their guns, and were again victorious.
We heard that one of our regiments at Shaganpore was surrounded by
the enemy, and to their relief we went in double quick time. When
we arrived, we found the little band very hard pressed; but relief
was at hand, and the enemy were again put to flight. The cavalry
made great havoc among them, and the few that were left made their
escape to the mountains. This closed the first campaign in India. The
very hot weather was fast setting in, and we began to look out for
some temporary quarters to shield us from the rays of the scorching
sun. We marched to Futtyghur, and went into quarters there. We were
suffering very much from the hot weather; but we were very happy that
the rebellion was so far suppressed, and that another campaign would
for ever crush the spirit of revolt.
I forgot to mention, that while we were encamped outside the town of
Lucknow, the company which I belonged to received orders from the
commanding officer of the regiment to move forward a short distance
in advance of the main body, and to act as an outlying piquet (a very
important duty in the field.) Our orders were to prevent the enemy
from crossing the river, which was fordable at this place. After
arriving at our post of trust, the officer in charge of the piquet
received intelligence from a native spy that a few of the rebels
had taken possession of a very large building on the south bank of
the river, and were committing desperate havoc on the inmates, who,
as the spy said, were English. As I was senior corporal on piquet,
the officer wished me to go, and to take along with me six of the
best men in the company, and find out at once the truth of the
native’s story; at the same time the officer remarked to keep a good
look-out after the spy, as he was not very sure of his statement
being correct. I at once volunteered, and was glad of the high honour
conferred upon me by having command of six as brave and hardy men as
stood in the Cameron Highlanders. The orders from my officer were
very brief. I was to find out the truth of the whole, and to act with
great caution, and much upon my own discretion. After examining our
rifles, and seeing that all was in good order, we proceeded along,
our black guide leading the way. I was rather doubtful of this
fellow, as I was taken in once before in the same way. However, I was
determined, if there was any foul play on his part, his life would
pay the penalty of his crime. At last we arrived at the building;
it was a very large structure, and looked as if it had been at one
time the residence of some great rajah or prince. “There,” said my
black guide, pointing with his finger--“there,” said he, “is _saib
morgagga_” (master dead.) I held the guide with my left hand, and
while doing this I gave orders to the men how they were to act. I
placed one of my men at the gate, with orders to fire upon any native
who would attempt to force his post; another I placed in the front
entry door, with orders to allow no one in or out; and with the guide
and the other two I was to enter the house and ascertain the fact. I
told the guide to lead the way; but he trembled, and would not move
one inch. I then placed my rifle at his breast, telling him I would
only allow him two minutes to make up his mind--to come with me and
stand the chance of his life, or loose it at once where he stood; but
he trembled still more, and fell prostrate on the ground, pointing
to the dwelling, and crying, “_Saib, budmash, budmash!_” (robbers,
robbers.) One of my men, who was losing temper by this time, came
behind the spy and struck him a blow on the face, and would have put
an end to his blarney, as he termed it, had I not interfered, and I
knew that the guide would be of great service to me at this critical
time. At long last I got him to move on. I placed my men in single
file, Johnstone in front, then the native followed, next to him my
other man, Campbell, and I brought up the rear. Moving along the
corridor, I could hear at a distance faint sounds, as if some persons
were in great agony, and here and there could be seen large blotches
of blood on the fine marble flooring. When we came to the end of the
corridor, and in a large room on the right-hand side, the pitiful
moanings of some sufferer was distinctly heard. I stepped forward,
and telling one of the men to look well to the spy, I pushed from
me the door; and what an awful sight was presented to my view--no
fewer than seven bodies there lay weltering in their gore! and what
struck me most was the form of a young lady who still gave signs
that life was not extinct. I went across the room to where she lay,
but she appeared to be sinking fast. She was cut in several places
with a _talual_ (sword), as it appeared the whole lost their lives
in defending their persons and property against those desperate
budmashes. I saw that I could be of no further use at this place; so
I turned round and spoke to the guide, and made him understand that
what he told my officer was correct, and that if he could give me
any information where the robbers might be concealed, I assured him
that he would be handsomely rewarded by my _saib_ (officer.) It was
during the time that I was talking thus to my guide that I heard the
report of a rifle outside the building. I ran out as fast as I could
to ascertain the reason of this alarm, when I met the sentry whom I
placed at the entry door, and who told me that a wild-looking rascal
tried to make his escape by letting himself down from one of the
windows by a rope, but that he prevented him from carrying out his
object, as he could be seen swinging to and fro. I said I was sorry
for this, as I would like to have taken him alive, as he then could
be of service in giving information as to where his accomplices were
concealed; but this could not be helped now. The whole of us then
searched the house, but nothing more could be seen of the budmashes.
I was determined to go and join my company at once, and report to the
officer the whole affair. He listened eagerly to my account, and took
a note of all I said, wrote the whole down, and sent the report to
head-quarters.