THE BATTLES AT DELHI
(_continued_).
1857.
The army of vengeance was steadily closing upon Delhi, and the plans of
Sir Henry Barnard as to the junctions of his force were attended with
success. Major-General Reed, who had fought at Waterloo, arrived at
Alleepore, situated about one day’s march from Delhi, while Brigadier
Wilson’s troops from the Meerut provinces had joined Sir Henry Barnard,
so that the investing force was as complete as could be expected.
As its composition is important, the different details of the force may
be interesting, and are as follows:--
Four horse artillery guns of the 1st Brigade, the 2nd and 3rd troops of
the 3rd Brigade, three companies of foot artillery, No. 14 horse field
battery, a detachment of artillery recruits, a detachment of sappers
and miners, H.M. 9th Lancers and 6th Dragoon Guards, six companies of
the 60th Rifles, nine companies of H.M. 75th regiment, 1st and 2nd
Bengal Fusiliers, and the Sirmoor battalion of Ghoorkas.
The city round which the conflict now centred deserves some little
description, not only for its historic associations, but its immense
importance as a British stronghold. It is a huge conglomeration
of houses, mosques, fortresses, and temples surrounded by
strongly-fortified walls. It lies in the midst of a sandy plain on a
plateau close to the river Jumna. Its streets are wide and handsome,
especially the “street of silver,” through which runs an aqueduct
shaded by overhanging palms. The mosques are all of magnificent
appearance, but the most stately and ornate is the huge snow-white
marble edifice built by Shah Jahan, with its towering minarets and
beautiful sculpture. Again, if we go outside the city walls through any
of the seven gates, we come upon the remains of the great buildings
of other days. The present-day Delhi is modern to a degree, and when
we gaze upon the ruins of gigantic buildings, of mosques and temples,
we have an idea of the Delhi of centuries ago. We have the mausoleums
of the Emperors Homaion Mahomed Shah and Jehanara, but the commanding
feature is the towering Kootub Minar, which was built in 1206, and
is covered over with extracts from the Koran, the walls rising to a
height of about 240 feet, terminating in a majestic cupola. Such was
the general appearance of the city which had passed into the hands of
mutineers, and naturally the British leaders were anxious to regain it.
Inside the city, the mutineers, after their first excess of brutality,
and no doubt through a scarcity of victims, must have thought of the
retribution that would surely follow. To give them credit, they were
not lawless or idle, but obeyed the mandates of their chosen leaders.
Military discipline and order were maintained, and men who had occupied
very subordinate positions in the employ of Britain, found promotion
easy and rapid in the service of the King of Delhi. Yet the townspeople
were downtrodden by the savage soldiery, and the town was daily the
scene of great disorder. The sepoys looted in every direction, and
stuffed their pockets full to overflowing, in fact in many cases they
could not walk, so laden were they with coin and treasure. Had Sir
Henry Barnard made a dash upon the city when he first gathered together
his forces, it is quite possible that Delhi would have fallen into our
hands, because the townspeople were so discontented that they would
have turned against the rebels. However, the British leader was not
apparently aware of this situation, and preferred to rest his troops
and mature his plans for the taking of the city.
Now the defences of Delhi were of a formidable character, having been
strengthened by officers and men of the Bengal Fusiliers several years
previous, and the rebels kept a double watch upon the bastions and
martello towers.
After resting his troops sufficiently, Sir Henry gave orders to the
effect that an advance was premeditated, and at midnight on the 8th
of June the combined Umballa and Meerut force started to march upon
the city. After marching for about three miles without meeting any
opposition, the British troops were suddenly confronted by a strong
rebel force with a dozen heavy guns, which had been placed in a strong
position. In the glimmering light of the morning, the rebels opened a
deadly fire upon the British lines, and did much execution, our lighter
guns being unable to cope with the heavier ordnance of the enemy. Men
were falling, and every life was precious, so something had to be done.
“Charge and carry the guns!” cried Sir Henry, and like hounds released
from the leash the men of the 75th--that gallant Stirlingshire
regiment--bounded forward to death or glory. Through a storm of
musketry they dashed, and sprang at the gunners with glittering
bayonets. The sepoys turned tail and fled, the guns were ours, and
the brave Scotsmen paused to regain breath. The rebels had retired to
a second position, where they had a line of defence at the Flagstaff
Tower. They fought like men who fight when they feel the halter round
their necks, but they reeled before the bayonet, and were soon in full
stampede towards the city, to tell their comrades that the Feringhees
had come to put them to death.
Our men had gained the old Delhi cantonments, but when they marched in,
what a different place it was to that which had been so well garrisoned
but a few months previous! Only the blackened walls remained, and all
was desolation. Fragments of furniture, scraps of books, clothing,
and shreds of women’s dresses lay about. The soldiers took one look
upon the desolate scene, and looking, understood, for they turned
their eyes to Delhi and ground their teeth. They knew what the torn
and bloodstained garments signified, and although they said no word
there was a gleam in their eyes which betokened no good for the
rebels when they had them at the point of the bayonet. They were not
hurried in their vengeance, but pitched their camps to await further
reinforcements.
The enemy, seeing that the British did not follow up their early
success, grew bolder, and made frequent sallies, but their skirmishing
amongst the ruins and tombs of the Delhi of a day that was dead was
ineffective, and did little harm to the troops at the cantonment. But
the British were not idle, for three batteries played on the city day
and night. The guns must have done considerable damage to the city,
for the mutineers turned a number of guns upon this position. It was
a stoutly-built brick house, and withstood the rebel fire, while the
daily attacks of the mutineers upon the battery were easily repulsed
by the defending force, which consisted of the Guides, the Sirmoor
battalion, and three companies of the 60th Rifles.
In one of these sorties brave young Lieutenant Battye of the Guides
received a terrible wound in the stomach from a cannon shot. He
survived for a day, and ere he died he smiled to a comrade who came to
see him, and quoted the old tag--“Well, old fellow, ‘_dulce et decorum
est pro patria mori_’; you see it’s my case,” and then he passed away.
The Guides, who were led by their commander, Captain Daly, came in
contact with the mutineers, who sniped at them from behind rocks. They
took careful cover, and the Guides could not get a shot at them. The
rebels were good marksmen, and several of the Guides fell. Daly and
another officer drew their swords and rushed up the rocks. They were
followed by their men, and although the sepoys made strenuous efforts
to keep their position the sword and bayonet soon demoralised them.
It was on the 12th of June that the mutineers became most dangerous,
and suffered the severest chastisement yet administered. They came out
of the city in great numbers, and commenced to fire upon the Ghoorkas,
until the 2nd Bengal Fusiliers came up to the posts and drove them
back from the place. The force pushed home the blow, but as they were
unsupported they had to retire, leaving their leader, Major Jackson,
dead behind them. The rebels returned, and the 60th regiment, who
had taken up a position in Hindoo Rao’s house, which commanded a
fine situation, had a very hard day’s fighting. The Scotsmen and the
fierce little Ghoorkas fought with hordes of rebels, who, despite
severe losses, returned to the attack persistently, and displayed much
courage. The Welsh Fusiliers’ left wing, now under the command of
Welshman, had again taken possession of the Subzee Mundee, or vegetable
market, and cleared the streets. Four times did the enemy return to the
attack, and as often were they repulsed. The heat was terrible, and our
men were fairly exhausted with the heavy fighting. The right wing of
the Fusiliers, under Dennis, were also busily engaged with the enemy,
and after driving them back citywards and killing a large number in a
serai, they were done up, and returned to the shelter of the Hindoo Rao.
To give some idea of the terrible heat, it may be mentioned that
the musket barrels and bayonet blades grew warm in the hands of the
soldiers. Yet the fight never slackened, and the enemy, no doubt aware
that our troops must become tired, kept up an attack all along the
line. A large company of the 2nd Bengal Fusiliers, who had marched
twenty-three miles that morning and had gone into battle with nothing
to eat, were completely done up, having to take shelter behind some
rocks, while the Ghoorkas kept the mutineers at a respectful distance.
The rebels had two pieces of cannon playing on the British line, but
the Fusiliers and Sikhs charged and gained complete possession of the
Subzee Mundee, driving the rebels away.
The greatest slaughter of the enemy took place at a serai, which is
really a halting-place for travellers. About a hundred rebels took
shelter in this place, and no doubt felt secure behind the lofty walls.
The 60th Rifles heard of their hiding-place, and rushing at the gates
burst them open and entered. Then ensued a scene of carnage, for not
a rebel was spared, the Scotsmen driving home the bayonet so fiercely
that in many cases their weapons were twisted and bent.
The British troops were now masters of the field, and preparations
were made for the mortars to be put into position to shell Delhi. A
discovery was then made that caused consternation in the camp--the
fuses had been left behind at Umballa. This was most regretable, as
no doubt Sir Henry would have followed up the shelling with a general
attack. The commanding officers did not show much energy, and those in
a position to judge declare that chance after chance was thrown away of
at least strengthening the British hold upon Delhi. The troops on the
other hand, however, deserved rest, and Sir Henry may have acted on the
more careful plan of harbouring the strength of his troops and keeping
them fresh for a future attack.
There can be no doubt, however, that the rebels gained courage by
this apathy, and as they were strengthened by a number of rebellious
regiments, notably the 4th Lancers and the 60th Bengal Infantry, they
became even bolder, and harried the British to an extraordinary extent.
They were fighting for their lives, and so desperately did they attack
our weakened soldiers that if it had not been for a piece of splendid
strategy by the officer in charge of the outposts, they might have
defeated our troops or at least captured the guns.
The enemy had made this daring and desperate attack on the 15th of
June, and had met with much success. The officer of the outposts knew
that the rebels recognised our bugle-calls and understood them as well
as our own men, so he determined to draw them into a trap. Dusk had now
settled over the scene, and presently the bugles rang out the “Retire.”
The mutineers heard the blast, and in a confused mob, numbering
thousands, they advanced tumultuously to pursue the retreating British.
Their rush was suddenly checked, however, for when the mutineers were
about thirty yards from the waiting British outposts the gallant leader
gave the order to charge, and soon the dreaded bayonet was working
havoc in the serried hordes, who lost heart and retired in confusion to
their position.
The enemy now occupied their attention by forming a battery of heavy
guns which rendered the British position at the house of Hindoo Rao
quite untenable. The whole force was now concentrated to checkmate this
rebel move, and, marching upon the battery in two columns, our men
drove the enemy back, won the guns and killed a large number of rebels,
hemming about fifty into a corner, where they were shot down.
The town batteries, however, were still arrayed against us, five in
number; a large one on the left of the Cashmere gate, a second at the
gate itself, a third at the Moree gate, a fourth at the Ajmere gate,
and the fifth on the city walls. These batteries were sweeping the
British positions to the extent of over two miles, and they did great
damage to our camp. We had three batteries, one at Hindoo Rao, another
at the Observatory, and a third at the Jumna Musjid. On the 19th the
rebels made another determined attack, and attempted to get to the rear
of the British position.
Brigadier Hope Grant, with the 9th Lancers and six pieces of cannon,
advanced to circumvent the enemy, but were assailed by a heavy fire of
grape when they had reached the Ochterliny gardens, which lie near the
cantonments. Grant’s guns vigorously replied, and his force was at once
reinforced, the attack becoming general. The rebels were fighting with
determination, and the British flank was nearly turned, two of our guns
being in danger of capture. With brave charges, however, the tide of
battle turned, and the rebels fell back, enabling us to take the guns
to a place of safety. The 9th Lancers, Carbineers, and the Guides were
hotly engaged on the right flank, supporting the batteries of Majors
Turner and Tombs.
The ground was not at all suitable for a pitched battle, being of
a very broken character, and the fight developed into a series of
skirmishes. Our leadership was muddled, and at one time the cavalry,
artillery, and infantry were all mixed up, and had it not been for the
individual energy of the commanding officers of the various regiments,
the confusion might have been attended with serious consequences. Sir
Henry Barnard seemed incapable of proceeding upon a preconcerted plan,
and the different officers were left to adopt whatever tactics they
thought fit.
The enemy was strongly posted, and their fire was well directed, our
loss being every whit as heavy as that which we inflicted. Darkness
came on, and, instead of retiring to the camp, the troops were ordered
to fight on. Needless to say, the confusion became worse, and if the
enemy had come to know of the terrible position of our troops and
charged, the total rout of our men must have been inevitable. When at
last the order came to retire, many of our cannon had to be left on
the field until morning, along with the killed and wounded. Among the
former was the gallant Colonel Yule of the 9th Lancers, who lay upon
the field with four of his men around him. Both thighs had been broken,
a ball had passed through his brain, and his throat had been cut. It
was a miserable fate for such a gallant officer, who had passed with
glory through many a bloody field. The rebels also lost a great number
in killed and wounded, but they were so strong that the sacrifice of a
few hundred lives made little difference of their numerical strength.
Our brave soldiers never lost heart, although they felt that they were
badly led, not by their own officers, but by the general in command.
The anniversary of the battle of Plassey (23rd June) came round, and
as it was a festival for both Mohammedans and Hindoos alike, being the
first day of the new moon, they became even more fanatical, making a
furious attack upon our outposts. It is said that every man in Delhi
capable of bearing arms came out to exterminate the Feringhees, but as
the British had taken the precaution of blowing up two bridges, they
could not get their artillery forward. The army opposed to our battered
but determined troops was an immense one, and if the confusion of the
previous attack had prevailed, our force would have been swamped.
From sunset to sunrise the battle raged, and fierce were the rebel
attacks, only to be met with dogged resistance by our men. Repulsed
again and again, the rebels grew less determined, and slackened
perceptibly, while the British, advancing, drove the enemy back to the
city, leaving the field littered with the dead and dying. Our loss was
also severe, and thus was the anniversary of Clive’s victory celebrated
before the walls of Delhi.
It would have been almost impossible now for Barnard to take Delhi with
the attenuated force at his disposal, and valuable time was thus lost.
He was reinforced by about 500 Europeans, which made up the entire
force to 3000 British troops, with three native corps of 600 bayonets
each, consisting of the Ghoorkas, Guides, and a Sikh battalion.
Continually harassed by the enemy, who were fighting desperately to
retain their advantage, our troops lay before Delhi having achieved but
scant success, and having little idea of any regular plan. Sir Henry’s
apathy cannot be accounted for, unless it was due to the fact that he
was content to wait until fortune made an opening for him; but he might
have waited long enough for that.
The mutiny had by this time spread with alarming rapidity, and all
over India, the sepoys, inflamed with the reports of rebel successes,
murdered their officers and joined the mutineers. There can be no doubt
that the resistance of the rebels at Delhi encouraged the mutineers
at other points, and while Barnard’s force was lying under the very
walls of the ancient capital, the rebels were being daily reinforced
by numerous bands of mutineers who made Delhi their Mecca. Rain fell
heavily in July, but still our troops were inactive, beyond repulsing
occasional sallies by the enemy. Sir Henry was engaged in forming a
plan whereby he could gain the city with the least loss of life, but
his officers were quite convinced that the city would only be won by a
vigorous attack at different gates.
The enemy kept well within the walls, apparently not desirous of
engaging the Feringhees in the open. On the 9th of July they made
a daring sally, and a body of their cavalry got to the rear of our
position through the treachery of a picket of the 9th Irregular
Horse. They gained no advantage, being driven off with severe loss.
An incident of this skirmish is worthy of mention. Lieutenant Hills
of the Horse Artillery, escorted by 80 of the 6th Carbineers, came
suddenly upon a troop of about 120 Sowars. A panic ensued amongst his
escort, who retired, leaving the guns limbered and useless to Hills. He
confronted the enemy, shot two, and unhorsed a third by throwing his
pistol at the rebel’s head. He was charged by another two of the enemy,
and, although thrown to the ground, he felled one of his adversaries
before he was cut down from behind. Major Tombs, who was hurrying to
his comrade’s assistance only arrived in time to shoot the assailant,
and running another through the body, he bore off his bleeding
comrade. The mutineers lost heavily in this skirmish, but the British
also sustained considerable loss. For a few days the enemy remained
singularly quiet, and as yet there was no appearance of an aggressive
movement on our part.
The rebels had not done with us, however, as on the 14th they poured
out of the city about 10,000 strong, and made a furious onslaught upon
our right flank. They poured in a murderous fire, which was instantly
replied to. The attack and repulse lasted in skirmishing affrays for
about three hours, when the enemy seemed to realise that they had had
enough of it, and, leaving their dead and wounded behind, they made off
as fast as they could to their place of refuge behind the city walls.
Our soldiers, eager for the fray, and no doubt throwing their usual
caution to the winds, kept up the pursuit until they came up close to
the walls. They rushed into a perfect hail of musket balls and grape
shot, and before they came to their senses and obeyed the bugles, which
were sounding the recall, 16 officers and 230 men were placed on the
wounded list, a number succumbing to their wounds.
This was a foolhardy action, involving a needless loss of life, but,
done as it was in the heat of battle, it showed the fearlessness of the
British troops, and no doubt had its effect upon the miscreants in the
city.
Further attacks were made on the 18th and 23rd, but both were firmly
met, and considerable chastisement meted out to the bold rebels.
Although Sir Henry Barnard was in supreme charge, the active command
rested with General Reed, whose health now broke down, necessitating
his retiral to the hills. The operations before Delhi were now
entrusted to, and ably conducted by, Brigadier Wilson of the Bengal
Artillery, a zealous and active officer.
On the last day of July the enemy made another attempt to break our
lines, and appeared in force at the Cashmere and Ajmere gates. One
column got a couple of guns into position, and played on the Mosque and
our central battery, while the other endeavoured to get to the rear
of the camp, but being unable to cross the canal they returned to the
city. It was evidently a well-planned attack, for the guns on the walls
gave them a lot of assistance through a constant fire on our position,
which was rather out of range. All through the night the rebels kept
up an incessant fire upon our outposts, while their bugles were heard
continually sounding the advance, yet no advance came. Frantically the
leaders rushed about, shouting “Chulo chai! chulo!” (“Come on, brother!
come on!”) but no one seemed willing to answer the call.
The incessant boom of the guns continued until the 2nd August, but
not much damage was done to our earthworks and batteries. The rebels
seemed to be rendered desperate, as it was thought that they believed
that the British could close upon them at any time and kill them. They
drank chang (a native intoxicant), which made them frantic, and they
rushed up to our breastworks, only to be shot down in scores. On the
2nd August they lost over 200 killed and 400 wounded, while 9 men on
our side were killed and 36 wounded.
An officer graphically describes the British camp during this anxious
time in the following manner:--
“What a sight our camp would be, even to those who visited Sebastopol!
The long lines of tents, the thatched hovels of the native servants,
the rows of horses, the parks of artillery, the British soldier in
his grey linen coat and trousers, the dark Sikhs with their red and
blue turbans, the Afghans with the same, their wild air and coloured
saddlecloths, and the little Ghoorkas dressed up like demons of
ugliness in black worsted Kilmarnock bonnets and woollen coats. The
soldiers are loitering through the lines or in the bazaars. Suddenly an
alarm is sounded, and everyone rushes to his tent. The infantry soldier
seizes his musket and slings on his pouch; the artilleryman gets his
guns horsed; the Afghan rides out to explore, and in a few minutes
everyone is in his place.”
The enemy were very desperate on the first day of August--the festival
of the Eed, or the anniversary of the sacrifice which Abraham meant to
make of Isaac, and they made an attempt to get their guns across the
canal, but the temporary bridge which they had erected was carried away
by a flood, and they had to retire. It was an awful night, that of the
2nd of August, with the roar of the guns, the rattle of musketry, the
yells of the savage rebels, and the cheers of our men. When the morning
broke, 22 of our men were found to be killed, while over 200 rebels
lay dead in front of our breastworks. The religious frenzy passed off,
and the rebels settled down more quietly in the city, while Brigadier
Wilson waited for reinforcements, which were by this time hurrying up
for the all important capture of Delhi.