in the north of India was that the number of our British soldiers had
been greatly reduced, and some had been sent to the Crimea, some to
Persia, and some to Burmah. Besides this, the government had been very
weak for many years in its dealings with the native troops. Whenever the
sepoys chose to grumble, which was very often indeed, their grievances
were listened to, and they were generally given what they wanted--and
next time, of course, they wanted more. To crown all, our arsenals
containing military stores were mostly left unprotected, as well as our
treasuries, and from the Indus to the Ganges the native army was waiting
for a pretext to shake off the British rule.
* * * * *
This they found in an order given by the commander-in-chief that a new
sort of rifle, called the Enfield rifle, should be used throughout
India, and it was necessary that the cartridges with which it was loaded
should be greased. As early as the month of January an English workman
employed in the factory of Dumdum, near Calcutta, where the cartridges
were made, happened one day to ask a sepoy soldier belonging to the 2nd
Grenadiers to give him some water from his brass pot. This the sepoy
refused, saying that he did not know what caste the man was of, and his
pot might be defiled if he drank from it. 'That is all very fine,'
answered the workman, 'but you will soon have no caste left yourself, as
you will be made to bite off the ends of cartridges smeared with the fat
of pigs and cows'--animals which the Hindoos held to be unclean.
[Illustration: 'You will soon have no caste left yourself.']
This story speedily reached the ears of the officer in charge at Dumdum,
and on inquiry he found that the report had been spread through the
native army that their caste was to be destroyed by causing them to
touch what would defile them.
General Hearsey, the commander of the Bengal division, instantly took
what steps he could to prove to the sepoys that the government had no
intention of making them break their caste, but it was too late.
Chupatties, little cakes which are the common food of the people, were
sent from town to town as a signal of revolt, and on February 19, 1857,
the first troops mutinied.
This was only the beginning; the message of the chupatties spread
further and further, but even now the government failed to understand
the temper of the people. The regiment which had been the earliest to
rebel were merely disarmed and disbanded, and even this sentence was not
carried out for five weeks, while they were allowed to claim their pay
as usual. It is needless to say that in a few weeks the whole of
Northern India was in a flame; the king of Delhi was proclaimed emperor,
and every European who came in the way of the sepoys was cruelly
murdered.
* * * * *
Such was the state of things found by Havelock when he landed in Bombay
from Persia, and was immediately sent on by the governor by sea to
Calcutta, to resume his appointment of adjutant-general to the royal
troops in Bengal. On the way his ship was wrecked, and he had to put in
to Madras, where he heard that the commander-in-chief was dead, and
that sir Patrick Grant, an old friend of Havelock's, had been nominated
temporarily to the post.
As soon as possible Havelock hurried on to Calcutta in company with
Grant, and there the news reached them that Lucknow was besieged by the
celebrated Nana Sahib, the leader of the sepoys and a skilful general,
and that a force was being got ready to go to its relief.
'Your excellency, I have brought you the man,' said Grant to lord
Canning as he presented Havelock, and the command of the 64th and the
78th Highlanders was entrusted to him. These last he knew well, as they
had been with him in Persia, and he thought them 'second to none' in the
service.
But before you can understand all the difficulties Havelock had to fight
with I must tell you a little about the towns on his line of march.
* * * * *
The instructions given to Havelock were to go first to the important
city of Allahabad, situated at the place where the Ganges joins the
Jumna. Allahabad had revolted in May, and the English garrison now
consisted mainly of a few artillerymen between fifty and seventy years
of age. Benares, the 'Holy City' of the Hindoos, a little further down
the Ganges, had been saved by the prompt measures of the resident and
the arrival of colonel Neill with a detachment of the 1st Fusiliers. The
soldiers had come up from Madras and were instantly ordered to Benares,
but when they reached the Calcutta station they found that the train
which was to take them part of the way was just starting.
The railway officials declared that there was no time for the troops to
get in, and they would have to wait for the next train--many hours
after. For all answer Neill turned to his troops, and told them to hold
the engine driver and stoker till the company was seated. But for this
the soldiers could not have got to Benares in time, for that very night
had been fixed for the revolt.
Having put down the rising at Benares, Neill pushed on over the eighty
miles that separated him from Allahabad, the largest arsenal in India
except Delhi. For five days the sepoys had been killing and plundering
the British. On hearing of Neill's approach, two thousand of them
encamped near the fort in order to hold it, but an attack of the
Fusiliers soon dispersed them, and the commander ordered a large number
to be executed in order to strike terror into the rest.
Bad as was the state of things at Allahabad, where the railway had been
destroyed and the garrison was weak, it was still worse in Cawnpore, a
hundred and twenty miles higher up the Ganges. Here sir Hugh Wheeler was
in command, and having spent his whole life among the sepoys it was long
before he would believe in the tales of their treason. Even when at
length his faith was partly shaken by the deeds done under his eyes, he
still did not take all the precautions that were needful. His little
fort, which was to be the last refuge of the sick and wounded, women and
children, in case of attack, was a couple of barracks one brick thick,
which had hitherto been used as a hospital, and in this he gave orders
that provisions for a twenty-five days' siege should be stored. This was
the place for which he intended to abandon the powder magazine, where he
could have held the enemy at bay for months.
* * * * *
With inconceivable carelessness nobody saw that the orders for
provisioning the fort were properly carried out, or the works of defence
capable of resisting an attack. By May 22, however, even sir Hugh
Wheeler was convinced that there was danger abroad, and he directed that
the women and children, whose numbers were now swelled by fugitives
from Lucknow and the surrounding towns, should be placed in it.
Altogether the refugees amounted to about five hundred, and the force of
men to defend them was about equal.
* * * * *
The expected siege did not begin till June 6, when the plain which
surrounds Cawnpore was black with sepoys, led by the treacherous Nana.
For three weeks the prisoners inside the fort underwent the most
frightful sufferings of every kind, and had it not been for the women
the garrison would have tried to cut their way through to the river. As
it was they felt they must stay--till the end.
So the soldiers fought on, and the women helped as best they might,
giving their stockings as bags for grape-shot, and tearing up their
clothes to bind up wounds, till they had scarcely a rag to cover them.
One, the gallant wife of a private of the 32nd, Bridget Widdowson,
stood, sword in hand, over a number of prisoners tied together by a
rope. Not one of their movements passed unnoticed by her; her gun was
instantly levelled at the hand which was trying to untie the rope, and
not a man of them escaped while in her charge. By-and-by she was
relieved by a soldier, and in his care many of them got away.
[Illustration: Not one of their movements passed unnoticed by her.]
At length hope sprung up in their hearts, for Nana offered a
safe-conduct for the garrison down the Ganges to Allahabad, if only sir
Hugh Wheeler would surrender the city. It was a hard blow to the old
general, and but for the women and children he and his men would gladly
have died at their posts. But for their sakes he accepted the terms,
first making Nana swear to keep them by the waters of the Ganges, the
most sacred of all oaths to a Hindoo.
The following morning a train of elephants, litters and carts was
waiting to carry the sick, the women, and children down to the river, a
mile away, for after their terrible imprisonment they were all too weak
to walk; and behind them marched the soldiers, each with his rifle.
Crowds lined the banks and watched them as they got into the boats, and
pushed off with thankful hearts into the middle of the stream, leaving
behind them, as they thought, the place where they had undergone such
awful suffering. Suddenly those looking towards the shore saw a blinding
flash and heard a loud report. Nana had broken his oath and ordered them
to be fired on.
One boat alone out of the whole thirty-nine managed to float down the
stream, and the men in it landed and took refuge in a little temple, the
maddened sepoys at their heels. But the fourteen Englishmen were
desperate, and drove back their enemies again and again, till the sepoys
heaped wood outside the walls and set it on fire. It was blowing hard,
and the wind instead of fanning the flames put them out, and the
defenders breathed once more. But their hopes were dashed again as they
saw the besiegers set fire to the logs a second time, and, retiring to a
safe distance, lay a trail of powder to blow up the temple. Then the men
knew they had but one chance, and fixing their bayonets they charged
into the crowd towards the river.
When they reached the banks, seven had got through, and flung themselves
into the stream. Half-starved and weak as they were, they could scarcely
make head against the swift current, and three sank and disappeared. The
other four were stronger swimmers, and contrived to hold out till they
arrived at the territory of an Oude rajah who was friendly to the
English.
It was while they were resting here that they heard of the awful fate of
their countrymen. After a time Nana had desired that the women and
children should be spared, and the remnant were brought back to
Cawnpore. They were lodged, all of them, in two rooms, and here these
stayed, hardly able to breathe, and almost thankful when the expected
doom fell on them. After their sufferings death was welcome, even though
it came by the hand of Nana Sahib.
All this time Havelock (now brigadier-general), ignorant of the horrors
that were taking place, was advancing towards Cawnpore, which he knew
must be in the hands of the English before it was possible to relieve
Lucknow, lying further away across the plain to the north-west of
Allahabad. Neill had sent forward a detachment of four hundred British
soldiers and three hundred Sikhs under major Renaud, and Havelock, who
had arrived in the town just as they were starting, promised to follow
in a day or two, as soon as he could get ready a larger force. Eager
soldier though he was, he had long ago laid to heart the truth of the
old saying, 'for want of a nail the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe
the horse was lost; for want of a horse the man was lost; for want of a
man the kingdom was lost,' and he always took care that his nails were
in their places. Therefore he waited a few days longer than he expected
to do, and spent the time in enlisting a body of volunteer cavalry,
formed partly of officers of the native regiments who had mutinied, of
ruined shopkeepers, of fugitive planters, and of anybody else that could
be taught to hold a gun.
The general was still asleep in the hot darkness of July 1 when a tired
horseman rode into camp and demanded to see him without delay. He was
shown at once into the general's tent, and in a few short words
explained that he had been sent by Renaud with the tidings of the
massacre of Cawnpore.
[Illustration: A tired horseman rode into camp.]
Six days later 'Havelock's Ironsides,' numbering under two thousand men,
of whom a fourth were natives, began the march to Cawnpore, and five
days after the start they had won about half-way to the city the battle
of Futtehpore. It was the first time since the mutiny broke out that the
sepoys had been beaten in the field, and it shook their confidence,
while it gave fresh courage to sir Henry Lawrence and the heroic band
in the residency of Lucknow. But the relief which they hoped for was
still many months distant, and Havelock was fighting his way inch by
inch, across rivers, over bridges, along guarded roads, with soldiers
often half-fed, and wearing the thick clothes that they had carried
through the snows of a Persian winter. But they never flinched and never
grumbled--they could even laugh in the midst of it all! During a fierce
struggle for a bridge over the Pandoo river, one of the 78th Highlanders
was killed by a round shot close to where Havelock was standing.
'He has a happy death, Grenadiers,' remarked the general, 'for he died
in the service of his country'; but a voice answered from behind:
'For mysel, sir, gin ye've nae objection, I wud suner bide alive in the
service of ma cuntra.' And let us hope he did.
The guns across the bridge were captured with a dash, and the sepoys
retreated on Cawnpore. In spite of their victory our men were too tired
to eat, and flung themselves on the ground where they were. Next
morning, July 16, they set out on a march of sixteen miles, after
breakfasting on porter and biscuits, having had no other food for about
forty hours.
At the end of the sixteen miles march, which they had performed under a
burning sun, the bugles sounded a halt. For three hours the troops
rested and fed, and then two sepoys who had remained loyal to their salt
came in with the news that in front of us Nana Sahib, with five thousand
men and eight guns, was drawn up across the Grand Trunk road, down which
he expected our guns to pass; and doubtless they would have been sent
that way had it not been for the timely warning. Now Havelock, with a
strong detachment, crept round through some mango groves between the
enemy's left flank and the Ganges, and attacked from behind; the sepoys
wheeled round in a hurry and confusion, and the Nana dared not order his
right and centre to fire lest they should injure his own men, and before
he could re-form them the pipers of the 78th had struck up and the
Highlanders were upon them, the sound of the slogan striking terror into
the heart of the Hindoos. Once more the Scots charged, led this time by
Havelock himself, and the position was carried.
Yet the Nana was hard to beat, and on the road to Cawnpore he halted
again, and fresh troops streamed out from the gates to his help. It was
his last chance; but he knew that the little British army was wearied
out, and he counted on his reinforcements from the city. But Havelock
noted the first sign of flagging as his men were marching across the
ploughed fields heavy with wet, and knew that they needed the spur of
excitement. 'Come, who is to take that village, the Highlanders or the
Sixty-fourth?' cried he, and before the words were out of his mouth
there was a rush forwards, and the village was taken.
Still, even now the battle of Cawnpore was not ended. Once more the
sepoys re-formed, but always nearer the city, and their deadly fire was
directed full upon us. The general would have waited till our guns came
up to answer theirs, but saw that the men were getting restless. So
turning his pony till he faced his troops, while the enemy's guns were
thundering behind him, he said lightly:
'The longer you look at it the less you will like it. The brigade will
advance, the left battalion leading.'
The enemy's rout was complete, even before our guns had reached the
field of battle. Next morning the news was brought in that while the
battle for the deliverance was being fought the women and children
inside the walls had been shot by order of the Nana. And, as a final
blow, when, the day after, the victor rode through the gate of Cawnpore,
a messenger came to tell him that his old friend sir Henry Lawrence, the
defender of Lucknow, had been struck by a shell a fortnight previously,
and had died two days later in great agony.
'Put on my tombstone,' he gasped in an interval of pain, 'here lies
Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty, and may God have mercy on
him.'
* * * * *
For a while it seemed to Havelock that his whole mission had been a
failure; and indeed he is said never to have recovered the two shocks
that followed so close on each other, though there was no time to think
about his feelings or indulge regret. Like Lawrence, he must 'try to do
his duty,' and the first thing was to put the town in a state of defence
lest the Nana should return, and sternly to check with the penalty of
death the plundering and drunkenness and other crimes of his victorious
army. Then, leaving Neill with three hundred men in Cawnpore, he
prepared to cross the Ganges, now terribly swollen by the late rains,
into the kingdom of Oude, of which Lucknow is the capital.
* * * * *
Not for a moment did Havelock make light of the difficulties that lay
before him. They would have been great enough with a large force, and
his was now reduced to twelve hundred British soldiers, three hundred
Sikhs, and ten guns, while cholera had begun to make its appearance.
However, the passage had to be made somehow, and there must be no delay
in making it.
First, boats were collected, and as the boatmen secretly sided with the
sepoys, the hundreds of little craft generally to be seen on the river
had vanished. At length about twenty were found concealed, and as the
Ganges was dangerous to cross in its present state, the old boatmen were
bribed, by promises of safe-conduct and regular pay, to pilot the troops
to the Oude bank. Even under their skilled guidance the river was so
broad that a boat could not perform the passage under eight hours, and a
week passed before the whole force was over and encamped on a strong
position in Oude.
Well, they were at last on the same side as Lucknow--that was something;
but they still had forty-five miles to march, wide rivers to cross, and
Nana to fight, and Havelock knew that the sepoy general had an instinct
for war as keen as his own. But Lucknow must be relieved, and the sooner
the work was begun the better.
* * * * *
Two days after the landing of the British a battle was fought at Onao
against the steady, well-disciplined soldiers of Oude, whose gunners
were said to be the best in India. The fighting was fiercer than any
Havelock had yet experienced, but in the end the enemy was beaten back
and fifteen guns taken. The next day there was another battle and
another victory, but the general had lost a sixth of his men and a third
of his ammunition--and he had only gone one-third of the way. Nana Sahib
was hovering about with a large body of troops, ready to fall on him;
how under the circumstances was it possible for him to reach Lucknow?
Therefore, with soreness of heart, he gave the order to fall back till
the reinforcements which he had been promised came up, and to send the
sick and wounded, of which there were now many, across to Cawnpore.
* * * * *
Deep was the gloom and disappointment of the 'Ironsides' as they marched
back along the road they had come; but far deeper and more awful was the
disappointment of the garrison at Lucknow. They had looked on relief as
so near and so certain that their hardships seemed already things of the
past. Now it appeared as if they were abandoned, and the horrors of the
siege felt tenfold harder to bear. In the heat of an Indian summer the
women and children were forced to leave the upper part of the residency,
where at least there was light and air, and seek safety in tiny rooms
almost under ground, where shot and shell were less likely to penetrate.
These cellars were swarming with large rats, and, what was worse, there
was a constant plague of flies and other insects. Luckily, sir Henry
Lawrence had collected large stores before he died, and had hidden away
a quantity of corn so securely that colonel Inglis, the present
commander, had no idea of its existence, and not knowing how long the
siege might last, was very careful in dealing out rations. There was no
milk or sugar for the babies, and many of them died.
[Illustration: The place was swarming with rats.]
Meanwhile Neill sent over urgent requests that Havelock would come to
his assistance in Cawnpore, as he was threatened on all sides and could
not hold out in case of an attack. Most reluctantly the general gave
the order to recross the Ganges, but before doing so gave battle to a
body of troops entrenched in his rear, and caused them to retreat. This
raised the spirits of his soldiers a little, and they entered Cawnpore
in a better temper than they had been in since their marching orders had
been given.
It was while he was in Cawnpore that Havelock received notice that
major-general Outram was starting from Calcutta to his assistance, and
owing to his superior rank in the army would naturally take command over
Havelock's head, as successor to major-general sir Hugh Wheeler. This
Havelock quite understood, and though disappointed, felt no bitterness
on the subject, welcoming Outram as an old friend, under whom he was
ready to serve cheerfully.
Outram's answer to the generous spirit of Havelock's reception was a
proclamation which showed that he understood and appreciated the
services which seemed so ill-rewarded by the government, and that he too
would not be behindhand in generosity. Till Lucknow was taken Havelock
should be still in command, and it was Outram himself who would take the
lower position.
* * * * *
When Havelock had entered Cawnpore for the second time, he gave orders
to break down the bridges of boats which had been thrown across the
Ganges, so as to check any pursuit from the enemy. Therefore a floating
bridge must be built over which the troops might pass; and so hard did
the men work, that in three days the little army, consisting, with
Outram's reinforcements, of 3,179 soldiers, was once more in Oude.
Here the sepoys were awaiting them, but they were soon put to flight and
some guns captured. In the confusion of the retreat the defeated army
quite forgot to destroy the bridge over the Sye, a deep river flowing
across the plain between the Ganges and the Goomtee, so that when the
British force arrived next day they found nothing to prevent their
crossing at once, as even the fortifications on this further bank had
been abandoned. Soon a faint noise, as of thunder, broke on their ears.
The men looked at each other and said nothing, but their eyes grew
bright and their feet trod more lightly.
It was the sound of the guns of Lucknow, sixteen miles away.
* * * * *
On September 23 the British army reached the Alumbagh, the beautiful
park and garden belonging to the king of Oude. Opposite 12,000 sepoys
were drawn up, the right flank being protected by a swamp. In front of
them was a ditch filled with water from the recent heavy rains, and the
road itself was deep in mud, so that the passage of heavy guns was a
difficult matter. But the soldiers came along with a gallop and got
through the ditch somehow, following our cavalry, which were already on
the other side. On they flew, cavalry and gunners, wheeling so as to get
behind the right of the sepoys, while Eyre's artillery, stationed in the
road, raked with fire the centre and the left. The enemy wavered and
showed signs of giving way, but one gun manned by Oude artillerymen
remained steady. Then young Johnson, who led the Irregular Horse, dashed
along the road for half a mile, followed by a dozen of his men, killed
the gunners and threw the gun into the ditch. When he returned to his
post the enemy was flying to the Charbagh bridge across the canal, with
our army behind them.
* * * * *
It was no use attempting to take the bridge that day; the troops were
exhausted and wet through, and the position strongly fortified. The
order was given to encamp, but there were no tents and no baggage, and
after drinking some grog which was fortunately obtained, the men lay
down on the wet ground wrapped in their great-coats, the rain pouring
heavily on them. But wet, weary and hungry as they were, a great shout
of joy rent the air when Outram announced that he had just received news
that Delhi had been recaptured by the English.
* * * * *