tremendous fusillade that mowed down three-fourths of his ladder-men,
and a great number of his storming party. But while his men were still
struggling with the ladder, twenty-five of the 8th Foot slid into the
ditch, and scrambled up into the breach at a point where attack had not
been expected. The rebels were taken aback; Jones seized the moment of
hesitation, and in a few minutes the rest of his column were upon the
ramparts. They swept on towards the Kabul gate, driving the enemy before
them, and a wild whoop rose from the panting men as they saw their flag
planted on the summit of the gate.
The progress of the third column had been marked by an act of heroism.
The Kashmir gate must be blown open before they could enter. Home, a
subaltern of the Engineers, with two British sergeants and a dozen
natives, ran forward to the gate under a heavy fire, carrying
twenty-five pound powder-bags. A step or two behind came Lieutenant
Salkeld with a firing party and a bugler. They ran across the ditch by
the planks of the drawbridge, and came unscathed to the foot of the
great double gates, the rebels seeming to be scared into inaction by the
very audacity of the feat. They laid the bags against the gate; then a
terrible fire was again directed upon them. A sergeant fell dead; Home
dropped unhurt into the ditch; Salkeld, holding the portfire, was shot
through arm and leg, and fell back helpless. He handed the portfire to
Corporal Burgess, who was shot dead before he could light the fuse.
Carmichael took the portfire and had just lighted the fuse, when he
received a mortal wound. Smith, fearing that Carmichael had failed,
sprang forward, match-box in hand; but the portfire exploded just as he
reached the gate, and he plunged into the ditch to escape the greater
explosion. Next moment the gate was shattered to fragments. Now was the
bugler's turn. Three times he sounded the advance, but amid the din all
around it was not heard. The explosion itself, however, gave the signal,
and Colonel Campbell led his men forward at the double, and dashed into
the city but a few minutes after the first and second columns had
entered it.
The fourth column had meanwhile suffered a disastrous check. The guns
which were to accompany it were late in arriving, and when they did
come, the gunners were only sufficient to work one out of the four.
Major Reid was waiting until others could be found, when he heard the
explosion at the Kashmir gate and learnt that a portion of his native
troops were already engaged at the Idgah. It was time to be up and
doing, so he set off to the attack of Kishenganj, leaving his guns
behind. But a musket-ball struck him on the head, and he fell insensible
into the ditch. There was some disorder among the men, and a doubt as to
who was now in command of the column; and when Reid settled that, on
returning to consciousness, by ordering Captain Lawrence to take the
command, the fire of artillery and musketry from the unbreached walls of
Kishenganj was so heavy as to necessitate the withdrawal of the column
to their starting-place at Hindu Rao's house. Hope Grant's cavalry,
drawn up to guard their flank when they pressed forward to the city, as
had been the intention, were forced to sit their horses for two long
hours without a chance of doing anything, under a hurricane of lead and
iron from the Burn bastion. Only a third of them were British, but the
troopers of the Guides and Hodson's Horse behaved as steadily under this
critical ordeal as the British Lancers. In the excitement of action men
may face lightheartedly dangers to which they are oblivious: it needs
more heroism to sit like sentries at the Horse Guards while balls are
flying thick around. By and by they were helped to hold their ground by
Captain Bourchier's battery of horse artillery. And not till they learnt
that the three storming columns had entered the city, and established
themselves there, did they fall back to their bivouac around Ludlow
Castle.
In the city the ramparts were in British hands, from the Kashmir gate to
the Kabul gate, and Colonel Campbell had pushed on across the Chandni
Chauk, and as far as the great mosque, which had been fortified. From it
and the surrounding houses a deadly fire was poured upon the British,
and Campbell, finding that the support he had expected from the other
columns was not forthcoming, fell back upon the Begam Bagh, a vast
walled garden, where he bivouacked.
Meanwhile, Nicholson had pressed on along the foot of the walls towards
the Kabul gate, where British colours now flew. The plan had been to
clear the ramparts as far westward as the Lahore gate, and Nicholson
expected that Major Reid's column would by this time have entered the
city there. Nothing daunted by Reid's failure, Nicholson determined to
push forward without this support.
Between the Kabul and the Lahore gates was the Burn bastion, the
strongest part of the defences, whence a galling fire was being kept up
both on the cavalry drawn up outside and on the infantry in the narrow
streets within. A narrow lane, three hundred yards long, and varying
from ten feet to three in width, ran between the Kabul gate and the
bastion, lined with mud huts on one side and on the other by the
ramparts. The rebels, taking heart at the one success they had achieved
in the repulse of the fourth column and the havoc wrought by the Burn
bastion, had come crowding back into the lane, the further end of which
they defended with two brass guns posted behind a bullet-proof screen.
Nicholson knew that his task would not be finished until the bastion was
taken. The enemy would exult if it remained even for a day in their
hands. So he called on the 1st Fusiliers to charge along the lane,
ordering the 75th to rush along the ramparts and carry the position
above. The men, tired as they were, gallantly responded. On they went,
reached the first gun, overwhelmed the gunners, then dashed on with a
cheer to the second. But ere they reached it a storm of
shot--musket-balls, grape, canister, round shot, even stones flung by
hand--burst upon them. They recoiled. Again they formed up, again
charged up the lane, again captured the first gun, which Captain
Greville spiked. Once more they dashed forward to the second gun and the
bullet-proof screen. Men fell fast, blocking the narrow lane. Major
Jacob, of the 1st Fusiliers, and six other officers were struck down,
and Captain Greville was withdrawing the men from what he deemed an
impossible task.
But at this moment the great voice of Nicholson himself was heard
calling on the men to make one more charge and follow him. He rushed to
the front, and turned his back for a moment to the enemy, so that his
men might see his face and take courage. A shot from the bastion struck
him in the back; he reeled and fell. A sergeant caught him, and laid him
in one of the recesses below the ramparts. He was taken back to the
Kabul gate, and by and by was placed in a dooli and entrusted to native
bearers to carry to the field hospital below the Ridge.
Lieutenant Frederick Roberts, an engineer on General Wilson's staff, had
been sent into the city to discover the truth of reports carried to
him--that Nicholson had fallen, and Hope Grant and Tombs were both dead.
As he rode through the Kashmir gate, Lieutenant Roberts saw a dooli by
the roadside with a wounded man in it, but no bearers. The lieutenant
dismounted to see what he could do. He found that the wounded man was
John Nicholson, deserted by the bearers, lying in helpless agony alone.
The bearers had run off to plunder. Four men were found to supply their
places; a sergeant of the 61st Foot was put in charge of the party, and
the dying soldier was carried to Captain Daly's tent on the Ridge.
CHAPTER THE TWENTY-SIXTH
Eighty to One
Ahmed entered the city with the first column. When, however, Nicholson
decided to work along the ramparts and leave Colonel Jones and the
second column to push forward into the streets, he ordered Ahmed to act
as guide to the colonel. Ahmed led the way through the streets by which
he had come on the night when he dropped over the wall. The victorious
troops swept them clear of mutineers, but their progress was slow,
because the men could not be restrained from plundering as they went.
In due time they reached the great mosque, whence, after waiting vainly
for the arrival of the fourth column, Colonel Jones decided to retire to
the Begam Bagh. It happened as the troops withdrew, that a determined
rush of mutineers down the street in which Dr. Craddock's house was
situated, cut off Ahmed and a small group of men from the main body. To
force their way through the enemy was impossible without great loss, and
Ahmed, perceiving that the little party was in danger of annihilation,
led them at the double into the lane that ran behind the doctor's house,
to take refuge there until the way was clear. They were only just in
time. They scaled the wall of the garden by mounting upon one another's
shoulders; and the last four or five were only saved from the mutineers,
who came dashing along in pursuit, by the fire of their comrades who had
already gained the top of the wall. In the temporary check the last men
were hauled up, and dropped safely into the garden.
The group numbered fifteen besides Ahmed, thirteen being sepoys of the
4th Sikh Infantry, and two corporals of the 2nd Fusiliers. It was clear
that they would by and by be no better than rats in a trap unless they
found shelter in the house, and Ahmed, rapidly explaining to a native
sergeant that he knew the place, made a dash with half the party past
the fountain to the back door, leaving the rest to deal with any of the
enemy who should attempt to drop into the garden as they themselves had
done.
Just as he reached the door, happening to glance up at a small window
overlooking the garden, he saw the face of Minghal Khan. Next moment he
had disappeared. The door was open. Ahmed rushed in, and up the stairs,
followed by the men. He reached the landing only to see the darwan
leaping down the front staircase. Running along after him, Ahmed looked
over. A shot grazed his ear: the darwan had turned at the bottom and
fired. Ahmed sprang down five steps at a time, there was a hurry-scurry
below, and by the time he arrived at the compound three or four figures
were hastening through the front gate, which they shut behind them with
a bang.
Ahmed had no idea of pursuing them. He barred the gate, ran back to the
men he had left, who had followed him from the house, and went upstairs
again, with the intention of passing through the almirah and assuring
himself that the doctor was safe. In the surgery he was amazed to see
both the doctor and the khansaman, laid on the floor and securely bound.
In a moment he cut their bonds.
"Allah is good!" cried the khansaman. "I have even now suffered grievous
pangs, and but for thee the sahib would have suffered also."
"How comes this?" asked Ahmed.
"I had taken food to the sahib when Minghal Khan and the darwan came to
us with a sepoy: without doubt the darwan had spied me entering the
wall. They were armed: the sahib had his pistol, but it is useless
striving against fate. We should have been slain, and I bethought myself
that the sahibs are in the city, and perchance if we were spared they
could save us. While there is life there is hope. And we were bound, and
Minghal Khan had us carried here, and demanded to know the place where
the sahib's treasure is concealed. Hai! what treasure have we! He had
tortured me to loose my tongue, and would have done the same to the
sahib but that thou camest. Truly Allah is great!"
"Have we taken the city?" asked the doctor.
"We have entered, sahib, and Nikalsain is here; but there is still much
to do, and I heard it said that Reid Sahib has been checked, and the
Lahore gate is still to be won."
"Well, then, we must hold this house until the rebels are driven away,"
said the doctor; "it will be a hard task for us three."
"There are men with me, sahib," said Ahmed. "We make about a score in
all."
"Then we can do it. What men are they?"
"Some Sikhs, sahib, and two Englishmen."
"It could not be better. Go and see what can be done to put the house in
a state of defence, and come to me here. I am still too weak to do very
much, I fear; but I can advise, and the men will obey me."
Ahmed hastened away with the khansaman. In the dining-room they found
several large bales of goods ready packed: Minghal had evidently
prepared for the inevitable. It was clear, in spite of his professed
poverty, that he had managed to amass a good deal of plunder, and he had
apparently only delayed with the prospect of adding to his store the
treasure which he believed the doctor had concealed in the house. There
were two pistols on a shelf: he had not had time to snatch them up as he
fled. And in the passage Ahmed discovered a musket and ammunition left
behind by one of Minghal's men in the hurry of departure. With these
latter Ahmed armed the khansaman, who like most Mohammedans had some
knowledge of the gun. The pistols would form an excellent reserve in
case of fighting at close quarters.
Ahmed did not suppose that Minghal had gone for good. With three-parts
of the city still in the hands of the mutineers there would be no lack
of men to help him recover the house that held not only his enemy, but
all his property and, as he believed, a hoard of treasure also. Ahmed
was considering how best to prepare for a fierce assault when he heard
loud shouts from below. Running to the window from which Minghal had
looked down on the garden, he saw that several of the enemy had mounted
the wall, on the roof of the colonnade, and that some had dropped to the
ground on the inner side. But he saw in the same moment that there was
no reason for anxiety as to the safety of the back of the house. There
was a crowd of about thirty or forty men in the lane outside, but only
about half-a-dozen had had the courage to make the escalade of the wall.
If the assault had been at all general, the little party inside the
garden would have stood no chance; but dropping one by one, and at
irregular intervals, within easy reach of the men underneath the
colonnade, the besiegers had but a short shrift. Before he could recover
himself each man was beset by the man nearest to him, who dashed from
beneath the cover of the colonnade and attacked him with his sword. The
defenders wisely reserved their ammunition. A man dropping from a height
required a fraction of a second to recover himself. In each case, before
recovery was possible, one or other of the men had cut his victim down.
Seeing the fate of their companions, the men on the top of the colonnade
hesitated to make the jump. They felt themselves, however, secure from
attack, and called to their comrades in the lane to join them. A few
began to scramble up, but, although the position of the men beneath the
colonnade was not visible to the attackers on top, the men themselves
could see their enemy through the cracks in the roof where the wood had
warped. One of the Englishmen, firing upwards through the roof, disposed
of a mutineer, who rolled down the slope of the colonnade into the
garden. His comrades, fearing a like fate, hastily vacated the roof and
dropped down into the lane, dashing the new-found courage of the men who
were about to join them.
Ahmed ran back to the doctor to inform him of what he had seen.
"Post two men at the window, and let them fire whenever a sepoy shows
himself," said the doctor.
The khansaman and one of the Sikhs took up their position at the window.
Sped by a few well-directed shots, the enemy either evacuated the lane
or took shelter immediately beneath the wall, where they were secure.
Meanwhile, as was soon apparent, they had sent off for reinforcements to
root out this little island of the Feringhis in the middle of an as yet
unconquered locality. The sound of firing could still be heard in the
distance, but Ahmed and his companions realized that they were cut off
by several hundred yards of streets and houses from Colonel Jones'
column, which indeed had by this time probably reached the Begam Bagh,
and that the intervening district was without doubt swarming with
mutineers. All they could hope to do was to cling to their position
until the tide of attack rolled on once more, driving back the rebels,
and clearing the way for a sortie. Ahmed would have been even more
anxious than he was had he known that Colonel Jones was even then
deciding to fall back from the Begam Bagh to a position nearer the
walls, where he intended to remain for the night.
The house was square built, slightly higher than the houses surrounding
it. On each side there was a more modern residence, detached, and
approaching within about twenty feet of it. There was no access to the
garden from the front compound except through the house itself.
During the lull which succeeded the first check, the doctor summoned the
two English corporals, and told them to consider themselves under his
orders.
"All right, your honour," said one of the men. "We're jolly glad to see
that one Englishman has been left alive by the Pandies."
"You don't look very strong, sir," said the other, "and don't you put
yourself out. We'll give them ruffians what for."
The doctor posted six men in the front compound. There were six in the
garden. Three he stationed within the house, so that they could
reinforce either the front or the rear, whichever might be the more
seriously pressed. Ahmed he kept with him, and when the others had taken
up their positions he sent him to the roof to take stock of the
surroundings.
In two or three minutes Ahmed had got all the information he required.
That the enemy was on the alert he soon found by the shots that whistled
about his ears as soon as he was discovered; but by standing a little
way back from the parapet he was protected against any musketry fire
from below. After a careful scrutiny of his surroundings he hurried
below and made his report to the doctor.
"Hazur," he said in conclusion, "we cannot hold the house if the rebels
come in sufficient numbers to overcome our men outside. We could not
fire on them from the roof, because we should be seen above the parapet,
and hit from below; and if we are seen at the windows we shall be marks
for the enemy."
"Then we must set about making the house defensible. Can the parapet be
loopholed?"
"Yes, sahib; the brickwork is crumbling, and with tools we could easily
make loopholes."
"Get a hammer and a chisel, khansaman, and go to the roof with Ahmed
Khan. Jaldi karo! Stay, give the three men below tools for making
loopholes in the shutters; we may want them by and by."
The khansaman provided one of the men with an auger, and the others with
pokers and other kitchen utensils, with which, made red-hot, they could
bore holes through the heavy wood of the shutters. Then he followed
Ahmed to the roof, where they set to work vigorously to make loopholes
in the parapet.
There were still sounds of firing in the distance. At present there was
no sign of an attack on the house. Knowing Minghal Khan, Ahmed suspected
that he was making quite sure there was no danger of being taken in the
rear before attempting an onslaught.
When his work at the parapet was finished, he went down again to the
doctor, who sent him to see how the men were getting on with their task
at the shutters. Three front windows on the ground floor had already
been bored with two loopholes each, and without consulting the doctor he
set the men to treat the shutters of the four windows at the back in the
same way. The men looked at each other in surprise when he had given
this order and gone.
"Who is this Pathan that gives us commands?" said one of them.
"Yea, he speaks even as the sahibs. Shall we do what one of these
puffed-up Guides commands us?"
"Not I, for one," said the third man. "The sahib said the front windows;
that was his order, given us by the khansaman, who is the sahib's
servant. We shall be shamed if we do the bidding of a vile Pathan."
And they laid down their tools and squatted on the floor.
Ahmed meanwhile had hastened to the front door. He found it was made of
extremely hard wood and thickly covered with iron studs, forming a
sufficiently stout defence against anything short of a battering-ram or
a cannon-shot. Coming back through the house to examine the back door
and the door leading to the servants' quarters, he noticed the three
Sikhs squatting in idleness.
"Dogs," he cried, "did not I say go to the back windows, and do as you
did with the front? Why this idleness?"
"We obey the sahibs," said one of the men sulkily.
"Thou son of a dog, take up thy tools at once, or verily thou wilt be
sorry."
Ahmed stood over the men, and his voice rang with a tone of command as
authoritative as that of their own officers. The Sikh hesitated for a
moment, then, to his own surprise, no less than that of his comrades, he
took up his tools, rose, and went off slowly to the back of the house.
"You two follow him," said Ahmed.
And the others got up, and went without a word.
Ahmed found that the back doors were slightly made and frail. They would
ill sustain a vigorous assault. So he got the doctor to give orders that
a quantity of heavy furniture should be collected in the passage leading
to them--material for blockading it if the doors were battered down.
While perambulating the lower part of the house, he noticed some bales,
containing Minghal Khan's possessions, which had been laid against the
wall of the compound, in readiness for instant removal. These he
carried, with the khansaman's assistance, to the upper part of the
house. Then he removed all provisions--a very scanty store--from the
servants' quarters, and conveyed the water-pots, filled by the bhisti
that morning, to the dining-room. This done, he felt that the garrison
was prepared to meet the storm.
But when he returned to the surgery, the doctor gave a further order.
"Find a long plank," he said, "as wide as the stairs--nail two together,
if you cannot find one wide enough--and drive nails through it so that
their points stand up."
The necessary material was soon found. When it was thickly studded with
nails, the doctor bade them make a hole in it, pass a rope through the
hole, and tie it to the newel of the staircase. Ahmed guessed the
purpose it was designed for; for the present he laid it on its side, so
that there was free passage up and down the stairs.
It was a full hour before the attack was resumed. Looking from a window,
Ahmed saw the street beyond the compound thronged with rebels, some
sepoys, but the majority Irregulars. Ladders were placed against the
wall, and the enemy began to swarm up. There was a volley from the
defenders collected at the door of the house. Several of the men who had
mounted the wall fell back; others, finding themselves unsupported, gave
way before the rush of their opponents, who dashed across the compound
and thrust their bayonets fiercely upwards. For a moment the top of the
wall was clear, but the defenders had fired their pieces, and Ahmed knew
that a determined rush by the enemy must swamp the little band. The
question was, Would this rush come before the men could reload? They
were hard at work charging their muskets. He shouted to the Sikhs in the
house to come to the support of their comrades, and then ran to the back
to see how things were faring there.
Ahmed was surprised to find things very quiet in that direction. He
heard the sound of a pistol-shot from above. The doctor had stationed
himself at the back window, which had been partially shuttered, and
fired one pistol while the khansaman loaded the other. He was a fine
pistol-shot. The wall at the back prevented the mob in the narrow lane
from firing at the window. But, as soon as a head showed itself above
the wall, the doctor never failed to hit. For a few minutes the
mutineers were baffled, but they soon rose to the situation, swarmed
into a house on the other side of the lane, beyond pistol-shot, and
began to fire at the shuttered window with their muskets. In a minute or
two the doctor was forced from his position. A splinter from the
woodwork had slightly wounded him; to stay where he was would have been
merely to court death.