CONTINUATION OF INDIAN CAMPAIGN--THE REBELLION QUELLED--CLOSE OF THE
WAR.
We took the field again in the latter end of 1857, and marched
down to Allahabad, and opened the campaign under favourable
circumstances. The sepoys fled at our approach; fort after fort was
in our possession; arms were captured, and many of the enemy taken
prisoners. I recollect at one of these places we came unexpectedly
on them while they were cooking, and their capture was complete.
Some of them implored us to spare their lives, but their crime was
so heinous that we arranged them in single file, gave them a few
moments to think of their future state, and with the Enfield rifle
we settled their account. Some awful scenes were witnessed in this
second campaign; sometimes we would come across piles of their bodies
burning to ashes. Another mode of exterminating those cruel savages
was by blowing them from heavy guns, after trying them by drum-head
court-martial, telling them of their severe crime, and the doom that
awaited them. The 32-pounder was placed in the centre of the square,
the mutineer’s hands were tied behind his back, the word was given to
fire, and the place that knew him once knew him no more!
There was a great range of mud forts in the direction of the Nepaul
Hills, said to be strongly fortified by the rebels, and to this
place we proceeded at once, suffering greatly from want of water,
and the poor and forlorn soldier had again to endure the fatigues
and hardships of an eastern climate. “Patience and progress” was our
motto. We called to our minds times gone by, and that, under the
blessing of Divine Providence, the period would soon arrive when this
great calamity, war, would be at an end, and that we would get that
repose and quiet of which we so much stood in need; yet, there was
something to be done before these our bright prospects were to be
realized. Onward, then, to victory, and crush the tiger in his lair!
We arrived at the very strong fort of Rampoorkusie, and found the
rebels determined to make a stand. Our batteries of artillery were
placed in front, supported by our cavalry. After opening a heavy
fire, we crossed the outer ditch, scaled the walls, and carried all
before us. The enemy had no stronghold now; they fled to the hills,
hotly pursued by our troops. They now began to loose hope; they threw
away their arms and ammunition, and implored our mercy. What could
these blood-thirsty villains expect? Death was their doom! Some
met their fate coolly; others again would give way--their guilty
consciences were speaking against them. We followed them to their
last lurking places, and the rebellion which shook our empire in the
East was now nearly quenched. Well was the selection made in sending
Sir Colin Campbell out to India as Commander-in-chief; and well did
he deserve to be raised to the peerage by the title of Lord Clyde.
He is now no more; but his memory will be ever green in the hearts
of the beloved soldiers whom he so often led on to victory. He was
generous as he was brave; endeared to those whom he commanded; he
would call them his children; but now he is gone; his spirit hath
fled to regions beyond the grave.
There was still a little work going on in Central India, searching
after Nana Sahib, and capturing parties suspected of mutiny; but as
I took no part in these raids, I will pass up with my regiment to
Meen-Meer, a very good station, with commodious quarters, and good
clean bedding. We longed to rest our weary limbs on our _charpay_
(bed.) We had upwards of six hundred miles to travel. I will not tire
the reader with long marches, parched tongues, and so on. Suffice it
to say, that after three months’ wandering in search of a home, I
awoke early one morning in Meen-Meer Barracks, lying on the ground,
having tumbled out of my _charpay_ while asleep. Having during my
last two campaigns been accustomed to have the ground for my bed, it
appeared that I wished to resume my former custom on this my first
night in quarters.
What surprised me very much out in India was the gross superstition
prevalent in the religious ceremonies of the Brahmans. I will here
mention a little affair that I very often witnessed amongst them.
They take a bullock (a Brahman bull with them is sacred in their
eyes) and decorate him with a scarlet cloth, paint him on the
forehead, and tie a string of beads around his neck. They then
assemble in numbers, place the animal in the centre, and while he
kneels, each of the natives touches him in some particular part, at
the same time roaring out in frantic joy, “_Salam! salam!_”--that
means, greeting the furious animal with reverence. The beast appears
to know all that passes, and as each of the little black urchins
gives him a pomegranate or a piece of sugar cane, he bows his head
to the ground, in token that he has now thanked them. This done,
they dance several times around him; they then resume their sitting
posture, and the bullock rises up and shakes himself; they then
disrobe him, and he walks slowly out of the circle. A dog belonging
to one of the men in the regiment seized one of those bullocks by the
nose, and held on like grim death, the affrightened animal running up
one street and down another, the dog still holding on by the upper
part of the nose, the natives all the time howling and tearing their
hair at thus beholding one of their religious objects of worship beat
and bitten by one of the canine tribe.
I recollect one time of going down the Ganges, and at a place
opposite Cawnpore I observed a great number of Hindoos singing and
calling upon their god, who was by this time lying at the bottom
of the river. What was my surprise and astonishment on seeing them
dragging along by the banks of the river a carved stone, representing
the figure of a man. They appeared to be greatly disappointed, for
when throwing him into the river they would persist in the belief
that this dumb idol could, after being thrown into the river, come
out if he had a mind; and when he did not appear above the surface
of the water, they would say that he fell asleep, and would make his
appearance at some other time. They hooked this fellow, and drew
him to the side, and after examining him, threw him in again, and
called upon him time after time to shew himself to the crowd. They do
this very often, and they are so superstitious and decided in their
belief, that they put off day after day in this manner. Poor deluded
creatures! they spend the natural period of their existence in this
world without ever knowing any better that truth which makes free.
The native _durgie wallahs_ (tailors) found plenty of work; cotton
trousers and jackets were made on the shortest notice. We had some
very good water baths at this station, and we scrubbed and rubbed
the dust of former days away from us, and, upon the whole, we were,
comparatively speaking, very comfortable. The weather was getting
excessively hot; but still, we managed to have a game at cricket
before the sun’s scorching rays affected us. We got up amusements of
various kinds to carry us back to times gone by. We had a very good
regimental library, and often had newspapers from home, which were
indeed interesting to us. Time rolled on in this manner, when we were
ordered to Ferozopore, another very good station, but infested very
much with bugs. There was no chance of sleep here. After lying down
for the night, the “enemy” would make a sortie upon us, then right
and left we would have it from them--they would take possession of
our domicile, and we were obliged to pace the verandah all night. We
remained here for a short time, when the regiment was ordered to the
frontiers of India, and Nowshera was the station assigned us, and a
very long and tedious march we found it. However, we overcame every
difficulty, and arrived at Nowshera.
Here I made up my mind to leave the army, and return to my native
land. The officer of my company was very much opposed to my taking
this step. He told me, and I have since found it to be true, that
my constitution was greatly shattered and weakened by the severe
struggles and hardships of former days. How often, since then, have I
felt the truth of his remarks. This officer, Lieut. T. B. Dougal, the
commander of my company, is now no more. I cannot close this little
book without making a remark or two upon this brave officer, who was
an ornament to his profession, and beloved by the officers and men of
his regiment. The high spirit of bravery, which was so conspicuous in
his nature, often led to victory the men whom he commanded. Although
only a subaltern, he gave so many proofs of his valour, that, had
he been spared, he would no doubt have adorned the list of our best
and bravest generals; but, alas! he is gone--his spirit hath fled to
regions beyond the grave. It is since I commenced this little work
that I heard of his death. In leading a handful of his men against
the hill tribes, he was overpowered by numbers, and lost his life,
serving with honour his Queen and country. It is now with painful
feelings I deplore his loss, being often led on by his word of
command--onward and to victory. Often do I think of his affectionate
and kind words, and of the many good advices he gave me ere I left
India; but although he is gone, his memory shall lie within this
beating heart while life remains.
After making up my mind to return home, I felt very much at the
thought of leaving my regiment, being at this time nearly twelve
years along with it. I was now one of the very few survivors of the
Crimean war; and as I shook hands affectionately in parting with
those who, along with myself, braved many storms and great dangers,
I could not help shedding a tear; and my farewell to the regiment I
rhymed in the following manner:--
Farewell! gallant comrades, it may be for ever--
Farewell to the thistle, the claymore, and feather;
Oh sad do I part with a regiment so true
As the clan of Lochiel, with their bonnets so blue.
Twelve tedious years have I weather’d the storm--
Sometimes I was happy, and sometimes forlorn;
But the thought of my regiment, which always proved true,
Entwines round my heart, with my bonnet so blue.
How oft have we wandered through flood and through field,
And in many sharp fight made the enemy yield;
Our hearts to our country were loyal and true--
Our watchword, “The Queen, and our bonnets so blue.”
’Midst carnage and strife, we have oft seen the day,
Made the Russians and sepoys alike run away;
With Lord Clyde at our head--a chief always true--
We would brave every storm, with our bonnets so blue.
If chance leads the way, I’ll to Scotland return,
At the sound of the pibroch and beat of the drum;
My heart will rejoice and my spirits renew
To welcome the Camerons, with their bonnets so blue.
Farewell! then, my officers and comrades dear,
In times of reflection I’ll oft drop a tear;
And if ever your swords will be lifted anew,
May victory crown you, with your bonnets so blue!
After parting with my regiment, I arrived at Kurrachee, after a
march of four months, and remained there for a few days, previous
to embarkation. In my next chapter I present a diary of my homeward
passage; it may be amusing and interesting to some of my readers.
Standing by the shore of a far distant land, viewing at a distance
the noble vessel that is to carry me over the deep--to my own sweet
home in Scotland--multitudes of thoughts arose within my mind; yet,
in bidding farewell to India, I thought of the great Eastern empire,
so rich in its natural productions, and great in its importance to
Great Britain, and where so lately sprang up that rebellion made
memorable by the terrible usage our countrymen and women received
at the hands of the cruel sepoys. I could not but call to mind the
alarming and horrible scenes I had so often witnessed and taken part
in during the time of the rebellion--away in a far distant land,
where no word of comfort, no look of sympathy, and no tender hand was
reached forth to close the eyes of the dying soldier! How many brave
and gallant comrades have I seen cut down and dying around me, no
more to behold the smiles of a fond mother, nor the sweet words of
an affectionate wife! Yet, when others fell around me, I received no
hurt--a kind Providence had spared me. While I live, I shall remember
the years I have spent in India, exposed to a cloudless sky and
scorching sun, and to the fire of the sepoy mutineers;--but I must
return from my reflections.