THE FIGHTING AT ALLAHABAD.
1857.
When the spirit of revolt in our Indian Empire first spread abroad,
there can be little doubt but that the minds of the mutineers were
inflamed by headmen or chiefs who had a natural antipathy to Britain
and everything British. We have seen how the rebels at Delhi behaved
basely and treacherously, but it was the same all over the Empire. The
natives in general had one common bond of union--a growing sense of
distrust, and a fixed and firm apprehension that some danger menaced
the religion of the Hindoo and Mohammedan alike. They were also imbued
with the gross idea that either the British must be killed off root and
branch throughout India, or that the followers of the Prophet or Menou
must inevitably be swallowed up in Christianity. Anglo-Indian society
remained oblivious to the threatening danger, despising the natives,
and never dreaming of the power they would possess in the event of a
combined mutiny.
Writing of this apathy, a writer in the “Delhi Gazette” of the time
writes as follows:--“Dazzled by the brilliant facility of their past
triumphs, they brought themselves to believe in a peculiar mission like
the ancient Hebrews; and blindly trusting in their special Providence,
neglected all ordinary human precautions for securing the safety and
permanence of their position. They knew that there was an evil spirit
abroad, but they took no steps to disabuse men’s minds until the
mischief was done. They made no preparation against the coming tempest
though the sea-birds on the shore were shrilly screaming, though a
black murky spot was already visible on the horizon, though the hoarse
murmur of the storm was breathing heavily on the darkening waters; so
no one armed himself against the day of battle. Suddenly a spark was
applied to the train laid by many hands, and in a moment of time all
was death, desolation and despair.”
Such undoubtedly was the case, but the native mind must have been
inflamed to an extraordinary degree before the men who wore the British
uniform, and who had sworn fealty to the Crown, could have descended
to such vile acts of treachery as at Cawnpore and Delhi. It was at
Meerut that this slumbering antipathy and racial hatred, which caused
so much bloodshed and suffering first broke out. Colonel Finnis, of the
11th Native Infantry, was there shot through the back by a treacherous
sepoy, and a hundred bayonets were plunged into his body.
This was the inauguration of the work of mutiny and blood, and all
through India the spirit of antipathy animated the mutinous soldiers
to deeds of Oriental barbarity. At Ferozepore, the 45th and 57th
Native Infantry set the buildings on fire and committed several acts
of bloodshed. At Murdaun, where the 55th Regiment (Ochterlony’s men)
mutinied, Colonel Spottiswoode, who loved and trusted them, was so
affected that he shot himself in despair. At Allyghar, brave Captain
Hayes was betrayed and hacked to pieces. At Bareilly the infuriated
fanatics turned upon their officers and killed and wounded in every
direction.
While at Shahjehanpore the 28th Bengal Infantry mutinied while their
officers were at church. The Rev. Mr. M‘Callum was shot as he ascended
the pulpit, Lieutenant Spens was sabred while he knelt at prayer, Dr.
Bowling was shot as he was driving his wife and child to the church,
while Mr. Ricketts, the magistrate of the station, was killed in cold
blood. The women and children were promised every protection, and
were actually allowed to leave the station. They were compelled to
walk, and, on alighting, the fiends disregarded all their promises
by bayonetting the helpless women and dashing out the brains of the
children upon the ground, besides killing all the officers who had
accompanied their women under the promise of protection. At Seetapore,
Neemuch, Hansi, Benares and Sultanpore the same things occurred, the
officers being slain without being given an opportunity to defend
themselves, while the women and children and private citizens were
ruthlessly massacred.
But of all the gross crimes committed during this trying time, when the
flame of mutiny was spreading like wildfire through the country, there
were none of such a treacherous character as that of the mutiny of the
6th Regiment of the Bengal army at Allahabad. That regiment had fought
gallantly in many a field, as its colours signified, for they bore the
names “Mysore,” “Bhurtpore,” and “Cabul.” Allahabad is a fortified
city at the junction of the Ganges with the Jumna, and the fort is
constructed in a strong position on a tongue of land at the confluence
of the two streams.
The 6th were lying at this fort or at the cantonments as might be
required, and when they heard of the mutinies at Meerut and Delhi, at
once volunteered to march against the latter city. They were thanked
for their offer, and the officers commanding the regiment never
imagined that their men would become disaffected. A rumour became
general throughout the town, however, that the regiment was about
to mutiny, and what did the treacherous sepoys do but approach the
officers, and, says a writer of the day, “with tears in their eyes
entreated them to have implicit trust in their fidelity.” The scene
that ensued would not have disgraced the early days of the first French
Revolution.
The officers and men fraternised in the most loving manner. Perfect
confidence appeared to be established on both sides; but, before
nightfall stragglers from other stations arrived, who worked up the
credulous fools to frenzy. They were told that the Christian Queen’s
troops were marching all over the country, destroying all who refused
to become Christians. The soldiers had been wavering, and very little
required to turn them into perfect demons, inflamed with the one
desire, namely massacre and safety in flight. That same evening, about
half-past nine, while the officers were in the mess bungalow, calm in
a sense of security, they were suddenly startled to hear the bugles
sounding the alarm.
With blanching faces they turned out of the bungalow, but the foremost
fell with a bullet in his brain, and the work of mutiny had commenced.
The mutineers rushed about like veritable demons, slaying and killing
whoever dared to impede them. The officers made a gallant attempt to
reach the shelter of the fort at the riverside, and a few actually
managed to elude the maddened mutineers, but fourteen officers,
including nine young ensigns of the 6th, were brutally massacred, and
their bodies subjected to terrible maltreatment.
A detachment of the 6th, with two guns, was posted at the pontoon
bridge to stop the progress of the mutineers from Benares, who were
expected to come to Allahabad. A garden midway between that point
and the fort was occupied by about 150 men of the Oude Irregular
Cavalry, under Lieutenant Alexander, who was posted there for the same
purpose. When the men of the 6th at the bridge heard the sound of the
bugles, they at once divined the cause, and turned the two guns in the
direction of the city, also firing upon the artillery officer, who
bravely dashed off amidst the shower of bullets to warn Alexander of
his danger.
Meanwhile the officers of the detachment managed to effect their
escape in the dark, although they were repeatedly shot at. Lieutenant
Alexander, getting together as many men as could saddle, came dashing
up, sword in hand, but was shot through the heart by one of the rebels.
The artillery officer, being unsupported, saw that his life was in
jeopardy, turned his horse, and galloped to the fort. The garrison of
the fort consisted of about 70 European invalids, the Sikh Ferozepore
regiment to the number of about 400, about 80 sepoys of the mutinous
6th regiment, along with a number of European volunteers from the city.
It was out of the question to trust the men of the 6th, so the officers
at once disarmed them, and found that, contrary to orders, they had
loaded their rifles, which no doubt they intended to use upon the
officers. They were turned out in an unarmed state, and joined their
infuriated comrades in the streets of the town.
The mutineers, after looting and wrecking the cantonments, proceeded in
a body to the great prison, where they easily overpowered the guards
and forced an entrance. Indian prisons at the time were generally
crammed full of thieves and vagabonds who could well and fitly be
classed “the greatest scum on earth,” and the great prison of Allahabad
was no exception to the rule. The mutineers released them speedily, and
the prisoners were nothing loth to join the sepoys in the work of havoc
and death. There were about 3000 prisoners released, and, along with
the soldiers, they marched through the streets, and carried death and
destruction on their march. Captain Birch, the adjutant of the fort,
and Lieutenant Innes of the Engineers, chanced to be outside when the
mutiny happened, and they were caught by the rebels and shot.
A worse fate befel an officer of the 6th, who chanced to fall alive
into the hands of the savages--for such undoubtedly the soldiers had
become. He was pinned to the earth by bayonets and a fire kindled round
his body, and thus he was slowly roasted to death as his own men danced
around him and mocked his agony. The European residents who chanced
to fall into the hands of the mutineers were horribly outraged before
death mercifully released them from their tortures. At least fifty
white men and women perished in their houses or on the streets. Some
were cut to pieces by slow degrees, the nose, ears, lips, and fingers
being first cut off, and then the limbs hacked off by the tulwars of
the rebels. An entire family was burned alive, and little children were
destroyed before the eyes of agonised parents. Houses were wrecked, and
choice articles either carried off or destroyed in the maddest spirit
of destruction and hate.
Five officers had reached the shelter of the fort by swimming the
Ganges, and three of them were in a state of nudity. The little
garrison lay under arms in the fort for five days and nights, watching
the infuriated sepoys rushing hither and thither, maddened and
desperate, many of them being under the influence of the native spirit
called “Chang,” which seems to steal away any little sense the ordinary
sepoy may have.
The big guns in the fort were brought to bear upon bands of rebels
who ventured too near, and many were killed in this way, while the
sharpshooters on the walls picked off a number who came within range.
The city volunteers, composed for the most part of railroad men, were
formed into three small companies and officered. This added to the
numerical strength of the garrison, and Colonel Neill at Benares,
hearing of the outbreak at Allahabad, sent on about 50 men of the
Madras Fusiliers, while he himself hurried to the scene of the mutiny
at the head of 40 more, covering the seventy miles of country which
lay between the two cities in two nights in light carriages. He found
on arrival at Allahabad that the mutineers had grown tired of looting
and killing, in fact, the 6th had marched out of the town with drums
beating.
Neill, at the head of his Fusiliers, speedily cleared the suburbs, and
had for his opponent a Mohammedan Mollah, who had unfurled the green
flag of the Prophet and proclaimed himself Vice-Regent of the King
of Delhi. He had collected a large band of ruffians, and occupied an
entrenched position in the town. At the head of only 200 men, with
a few guns, Neill marched out of the fort and attacked the Mollah’s
forces so suddenly, and with such vigour, that the rebels broke and
fled in all directions, pursued by the energetic Fusiliers, who put
many to death.
Meanwhile, the scene inside the fort was a sad one, cholera breaking
out, and many also perished from sunstroke. Over seventy fighting
men lost their lives through disease, and twenty were buried at one
funeral. The shrieks of the insane and the dying rang through the fort,
and the 200 fugitive European women were in a sad plight. However, when
once Neill with his small force got thoroughly to work in the streets,
he rapidly cleared the rebels out of the city, and the fugitives were
able to return to their wrecked homes. The mortality was very high for
a time, but gradually the disease got stamped out, and Allahabad became
free and latterly welcomed Sir Henry Havelock and his Highlanders on
their march to Lucknow.