CHAPTER X.
KÁNHPUR, LAKHNAO, AND ALLAHÁBÁD.
Kánhpur was the centre station in that weak middle piece of which I have written as causing so much anxiety to Lord Canning. It lies on the right bank of the river Ganges, 270 miles south-east from Dehlí, and 120 above the confluence of the Jamnah and Ganges at Allahábád. From Calcutta it is distant by rail 684 miles, somewhat more by the river route. The station is long and straggling, the houses having been erected more with the view to secure pleasant and healthy situations than for military defence.
In 1857 the garrison of Kánhpur consisted of the 1st, the 53d, and the 56th Regiments N. I., the 2d Native Light Cavalry, and sixty-one English artillerymen, with six guns — five nine-pounders, and a twenty-four-pounder howitzer The station also sheltered the families of the 32d Foot, then stationed at Lakhnao. Kánhpur was the headquarters of a division. The general commanding was Sir Hugh Massey Wheeler, an officer of the highest character as a soldier. He had spent fifty-four years in India, had served with the sipáhís, under Lord Lake, in the Maráthá wars, in Afghánistán, and in the wars against the Sikhs. He was very much esteemed, and it was thought that if any man could unravel the mysteries which shrouded the early events of 1857 that man would be Sir Hugh Wheeler.
Sir Hugh had watched, with the deepest anxiety, the early development of the action of the sipáhís. It is due to his memory to record that he had taken a far more serious view of it than that which had commended itself to the advisers of Lord Canning. In his eyes it was 'no passing and groundless panic,' but a deliberate scheme for the overthrow of the British power. He did not know, he had no reason to suspect, that the principal conspirator was within a few miles of him. The outward demeanour of the Náná Sáhib was never more suave than it was just before the outbreak. He was the adviser, and the trusted adviser, of the civil authorities.
Confident that the native army was infected from the crown of its head to the soles of its feet, Sir Hugh, looking round at the straggling station in which he commanded, recognising the utter impossibility of organising a plan of general defence, resolved to select, partially to fortify and store with provisions, one spot in the station, which should be a rallying point, when the danger signal should sound, for all the English and Eurasians, men, women, and children, and which he might be able to defend until succour should arrive. The idea showed prescience and courage. It was the same idea which at the same time occurred to, and was acted upon, by the sagacious Mr Boyle at Árah, by Sir Henry Lawrence at Lakhnao.
His great difficulty was to select a suitable position. The station, I have said, was straggling, covering, as far as the magazine at its further end, that is, the end nearer to Dehlí, a length of seven miles. The cantonment was open, and possessed no kind of fortification. It was separated by the Ganges from Oudh, and Sir Hugh Wheeler was too experienced in the modes of thought of the natives not to be absolutely certain that in the men of Oudh the English would find their most persistent enemy. He had to choose a spot the situation of which should lend itself easily to succour from the side of Allahábád. From that direction alone was succour to be expected. In a military sense, then, it was doubly advisable to select a locality the approaches to which from the Allahábád side should be easy. Such a locality seemed to be at hand. In the centre of a large plain, with a tolerably clear space all round them, were two barracks, formerly used as the hospitals of the European regiment, but at the moment unoccupied. The locality was about the best he could have chosen. He has been blamed since alike for not choosing the magazine and for not choosing a place of refuge immediately on the river. But the magazine was an impossible locality. It was seven miles distant, and to reach it one had to traverse the lines of sipáhís and the native town. A barrack or large house on the river bank would undoubtedly have been the best place of refuge had any such of sufficient size existed, but there was none. The position chosen fulfilled some necessary conditions. It lent itself to aid from Allahábád. The space around it was tolerably clear, the only drawback being that on its left front, at a distance of about 400 yards, was a row of unfinished barracks then in course of construction. These might be used either by the defenders as an outwork, or by the rebels as a substantial place of cover, for their attacking parties.
It is further due to the memory of Sir Hugh Wheeler to add that no one then anticipated that the sipáhís, if they should mutiny, would endeavour to slaughter the Europeans. After the events of the 10th and 12th of May, at Mírath and Dehlí, the cry amongst the sipáhís had been to march to the centre point, to the ancient capital of the Mughals. By attacking the position on the plain they could gain neither loot nor glory. Such an attack, by chaining them to the spot, might ultimately involve their own destruction. I shall have to relate that, so far as the sipáhís were concerned, this reasoning was justified to the letter. No one dreamt at that time that the smiling and obsequious prince, who was wont to drive in from Bithor to aid the civil authorities with his advice, would possess the influence and the inclination to turn the fury of the revolted sipáhís against the wives and children of the officers they had followed in many a hard-fought field.
Sir Hugh Wheeler made the selection I have spoken of the very day that the sad story of the revolt at Mírath reached him. From that date there reigned in his mind the conviction that a rising at Kánhpur might take place at any moment. He pushed on, therefore, the fortifying and victualling of the two barracks with as much speed as possible. The fortifications were to consist of earthworks. But the rains had not fallen; the soil of the plain was baked almost to the consistency of iron, and the progress was consequently slow. Whilst pushing on these works, Sir Hugh communicated freely with the civil authorities at the station, with Sir Henry Lawrence at Lakhnao, and with the Government at Calcutta.
The Collector of Revenue at Kánhpur was Mr Hillersdon. Between this gentleman and Náná Sáhib there had been considerable official intercourse, and the Englishman had been pleased by the friendly and courteous manner and conversation of the Asiatic. When the news of the Mírath outbreak reached Kánhpur, the Asiatic showed his further friendliness by advising Hillersdon to send his wife and family to Bithor, where, he assured him, they would be safe against any possible outburst on the part of the sipáhís. Hillersdon declined for the moment, but when, a little later, the Náná offered to organise 1500 men to act against the sipáhís if they should rise, Hillersdon considered that the proposal was one to be accepted. To a certain extent it was acted upon.
I have said that Wheeler, feeling that the storm might burst any moment, pushed on with all his energy the preparation of the barracks. His spies told him that every night meetings of an insurrectionary character were taking place in the lines of the 2d N. L. C and of the 1st N. I. In ordinary times these meetings would have been stopped with a high hand; but the example of Mírath had shown that, even with a strong force at the disposal of the General, high-handed dealing was sure to precipitate mutinous action, and Wheeler had but sixty-one men to depend upon. On the 21st he received information that the 2d N. L. C. would rise that night. He accordingly moved all the women and children into the intrenchment, and attempted to have the contents of the treasury conveyed thither; but the sipáhís would not part with the money. Then it was that the General, much against the grain, availed himself of the offer made by the Náná to Mr Hillersdon, and agreed that 200 of the Bíthor chiefs men should be posted at Nuwábganj, guarding the treasury and the magazine.
The next day Wheeler was cheered by the arrival of eighty-four men and two officers of the 32d, sent to him in his dire strait by Sir Henry Lawrence. The week that followed was a particularly trying one. The officers of the native regiments, to show their sipáhís that they still trusted them, slept every night in the lines of their men. The non-combatants meanwhile, that is, the trading Europeans, the Eurasians, and their families, had removed, on the 22d, to the intrenchment. Towards the end of the month the General had pitched his tent within the position. Still, time went on and no move was made by the sipáhís, and when, on the mornings of the 31 st May and the 1st and 2d of June, the first relays of the 1st Madras Fusiliers and the 84th, despatched by Lord Canning from Calcutta, reached Kánhpur, Wheeler considered that the crisis was past, that is, that the sipáhís, noting, from the arrival of English troops, that the country to the south-east was open, would feel that mutiny was too hazardous to be attempted. So great, indeed, was his confidence that he passed on fifty of the 84th to Lakhnao.
It is possible, indeed, that, could the line between Calcutta and Kánhpur have been maintained intact, this result might, to a certain extent, have been obtained. The sipáhís, that is to say, might have been content to march on Dehlí without attempting to molest the English at Kánhpur; but early in June that line was broken, in the manner to be described, at Allahábád; it was menaced at Banáras; and, later still, it was rent in twain at Dánápur. The consequences of the breaking of the line at the place first named, and of the example set by the sipáhís there and elsewhere in the vicinity, were seen when, on the night of the 4th of June, the men of the 2d Cavalry mutinied. I must ask the reader to permit me to defer the story of the events which followed that uprising until I shall have cleared the ground by narrating the contemporaneous events at Lakhnao, at Allahábád, and at Calcutta.
In a previous chapter I have narrated how Sir Henry Lawrence met and suppressed the first attempts at mutiny at Lakhnao (May 3d and 4th). Knowing the impressionable character of the natives of India, and having at the moment no means of judging the extent to which the ill-feeling had been nurtured, or the depth to which it had taken root, Sir Henry resolved to emphasise the first repression of disloyal action by the holding of a grand Darbár, to be attended by all the English residents, by the officers and men of the native regiments, and by all the native officials. The announced reason for the holding of the Darbár was the presentation to the native officer and non-commissioned officers and men, who had behaved with distinguished loyalty on the 3d of May, of honours to mark the sense entertained by the Government of their conduct.
The Darbár was held on the evening of the 12th of May. Sir Henry seized the occasion to make to the assembled natives, in their own language, an address which, if it had then been possible for words to affect the question, could scarcely have failed to produce great results. He began by alluding to the fears which had been expressed by the Hindus for their religion. Turning to them, he pointed out how, under the Muhammadan rule prior to Akbar, that religion had never been respected; how Hindus had been forcibly converted, and cruelly persecuted; how the third prince in succession to Akbar had reverted to a similar system. Turning then to the Muhammadans, he reminded them how the great sovereign who had founded the Sikh kingdom would never tolerate the exercise of the faith of Islám at Láhor. Speaking then to both sections, he asked them to contrast with such actions the action of the British rulers. He referred to the principle of toleration, acted upon for a century; to the manner in which Europeans and natives had worked together with a common purpose, sharing the same toils and the same dangers, and mutually congratulating one another when reaching the goal at which each had aimed. He then implored them not to allow themselves to be led away by the devices of men who were trying to entrap them, with the view of leading them, for their own selfish purposes, to assured destruction. Calling then to the front the native officer and the men who had signalised themselves by their loyalty on the 3d, he bestowed upon them, in the name of the Government, substantial tokens of its appreciation of their conduct.
The solemn occasion, the character of the speaker, the truth of the language he employed, combined to produce a considerable effect. Those present were much moved; but the conspirators had done their work too well to allow their dupes to be baffled by a few eloquent and impressive sentences. Whatever was the effect produced by the speech of the 12th of May, that effect was entirely obliterated when, on the 16th, the events of the 10th and 11th of the same month, at Mírath and Dehlí, became common property. No one then recognised more clearly than Sir Henry Lawrence that the days of parleying had gone by, and that the differences between the sipáhís and the Government had entered upon a phase in which victory would be to the strongest. Much, in Oudh, he realised, would depend upon the action of those in whose hands should be concentrated the supreme civil and military authority. He possessed the first, but not the second. Representing the case to Lord Canning, he received, on the 19th, a notification of his appointment as Brigadier-General, in supreme command in Oudh. Then he set to work to prepare for the crisis which he knew might be upon him at any moment.
The city of Lakhnao, built on the west bank of the river Gúmtí, but having suburbs on the east bank, lies forty-two miles to the east of Kánhpur, and 610 miles from Calcutta. All the principal buildings lie between the city and the river bank. Here also are the Residency and its dependencies, covering a space 2150 feet long from north-west to south-east, and 1200 feet broad from east to west. A thousand yards to the west of it was the Machchí Bhawan, a turreted building used for the storage of supplies. Close to it, and in the present day incorporated with it, is the Imámbárah, a mosque, 303 feet by 160, The other palaces will be spoken of when it shall be my task to describe the 'leaguer' of this famous place. It must suffice to state now that a canal which intersects the town falls into the Gúmtí about three miles to the south-east of the Residency, close to the Martinière; that about three-quarters of a mile to the south-south-east of this is the Dilkushá, a villa in the midst of an extensive deer park. To the north-east of the Residency lay the cantonment, on the left bank of the Gúmtí, communicating with the right bank by means of two bridges, one of stone, near to the Machchí Bhawan, the other of iron, 200 yards from the Residency. Recrossing by this to the right bank the traveller comes to the palaces, to be hereafter mentioned, between the Residency and the Martinière. To the south-west of the town, about four miles from the Residency, is a walled enclosure of 500 square yards called the Álambágh, commanding the road to Kánhpur. In May 1857 the troops at Lakhnao consisted of the greater part of the 32d Foot, about 570 strong, fifty-six European artillerymen, a battery of native artillery, the 13th, 48th, and 71st Regiments N. I., and the 7th Native Light Cavalry. Up to the time of the receipt by Sir Henry Lawrence of the patent of Brigadier-General these troops had been employed in the way then common in India, that is, the sipáhís had been entrusted with the care of important buildings, the Europeans being sheltered as much as possible from the heat of the sun.
Sir Henry at once changed this order. He reduced the number of posts to be guarded from eight to four, three of which he greatly strengthened. All the magazine stores he removed into the Machchí Bhawan, to be guarded by a company of the 32d and thirty guns. At the treasury, within the Residency compound, he stationed 130 Europeans, 200 natives, and six guns. At the third post, between the Residency and the Machchí Bhawan, commanding the two bridges, he located 400 men, Europeans and natives, with twenty guns, some of them eighteen-pounders. The fourth post was the travellers' bungalow, between the Residency and the cantonment. Here he posted two squadrons of the 2d Oudh Native Cavalry, with six guns.
In the cantonment, on the left bank ot the Gúmtí, there still remained 340 men of the 32d Foot, fifty English gunners, six guns, and a complete battery of native artillery. The 32d were, towards the end of May, reduced by eighty-four men, despatched to the aid of Wheeler at Kánhpur. The 7th Native Cavalry remained at Múdkípur, seven miles distant from the Lakhnao cantonment.
As soon as these arrangements had been completed. Sir Henry, on the 24th of May, caused to be moved into the Residency enclosure the ladies, the families, and sick men of the 32d, and the European and Eurasian clerks. These last he armed and drilled, and had them told off into parties for night duty. On the 27th he wrote to Lord Canning that the Residency and the Machchí Bhawan 'were safe against all probable comers.' That very day, however, he had evidence that the country districts were surging around him, and he had to despatch one of the ablest of his assistants, Gould Weston, to Maliábád, fifteen miles from Lakhnao, to restore order. Further, also on the 27th, he despatched Captain Hutchinson, with 200 sowárs and 200 sipáhís, to the northern frontier of the province, there to be under the orders of the civil officer who had asked for them. The measure certainly ridded Lakhnao of the presence of 400 disaffected soldiers, but it resulted in the murder by them of all their officers save one. Hutchinson was able to return safely to his post.
Before this mutiny occurred (7th and 8th June) the catastrophe at Lakhnao had come upon Sir Henry. On the night of the 30th of May the greater number of the sipáhís of the 71st N. I. rose in revolt, fired the bungalows, murdered Brigadier Handscomb and Lieutenant Grant, wounded Lieutenant Hardinge, and attempted further mischief The attitude of the European troops, vigilant at the posts assigned them by the Brigadier-General, completely baffled them, and they retired in the night to Múdkípur, murdering Lieutenant Raleigh on their way. Thither, at daylight, Sir Henry followed them, and though deserted by the troopers of the 7th N. L. C, who joined the mutinied 71st N. I., and by some men of the 48th N. I., drove them from their position, and pursued them for some miles. Their action had, in fact, proved advantageous to Sir Henry Lawrence. It had rid him of pretended friends, and had shown him upon whom he could rely. The great bulk of the 13th N. I. had proved loyal; but the whole of the 7th Cavalry, more than two-thirds of the 71st N. I., a very large proportion of the 48th N. I., and a few of the 13th N. I. had shown their hands. Their departure enabled Sir Henry still further to concentrate his resources.
Every day brought intelligence from the outlying districts of the seriousness of the crisis. At Sítápur, fifty-one miles from Lakhnao, there had been incendiarisms at the end of May. On the 2d of June the sipáhís of the 10th Oudh Irregulars, there stationed, had thrown into the river the flour sent from the town for their consumption, on the pretext that it had been adulterated with the view of destroying their caste. On the 3d the 41st N. I. and the 9th Irregular Cavalry broke out in mutiny, and murdered many of their officers and of the residents, under circumstances of peculiar atrocity. The number of men, women, and children so murdered amounted to twenty-four.
At Maláun, forty-four miles to the north of Sítápur, the natives rose as soon as they heard of the events at the latter place. At Muhamdí, on the Rohilkhand frontier, the work of butchery on unarmed men, women, and children, on the 4th of June, was not exceeded in atrocity by any similar event during the outbreak. At Faizábád, at Sikrorá, at Gondah, at Báhráich, at Malapur, at Sultánpur, at Saloní, at Daryábád, at Purwá, in fact at all the centres of administration in the province there were, during the first and second weeks of June, mutinies of the sipáhís, risings of the people, and conduct generally on the part of the large landowners which proved that their sympathy was with the revolters. By the 12th of June Sir Henry Lawrence had realised that the only spot in Oudh in which British authority was still respected was the Residency of Lakhnao.
We left Sir Henry chasing, on the morning of the 31st of May, the mutinied sipáhís from the station of Múdkípur. Between that time and the 11th June his health, undermined by long service in India, had given way. But the measures of Mr Gubbins, the officer who acted for him during his illness, and which were in direct opposition to the principles which he had inculcated, had the effect of rousing him from his bed of sickness. One of his strong points was to maintain at Lakhnao as many sipáhís as would serve loyally and faithfully. Without the aid of sipáhís the Residency, he felt, could not be defended against the masses which a province in insurrection could bring against it. Mr Gubbins, during his illness, had despatched to their homes all the sipáhís belonging to the province of Oudh. Sir Henry promptly recalled them. What was more. Believing he might successfully appeal to the memories of an imaginative people, especially to that class which had in former years enjoyed the benefits of British service, and in later had not been subjected to the manœuvres of the conspirators, he despatched circulars to all the pensioned sipáhís in the province inviting them to come to Lakhnao to defend the masters to whom they owed their pensions, and whose interests were bound up with theirs. The response to these circulars was remarkable. More than 500 grey-headed soldiers came to Lakhnao. Sir Henry gave them a cordial welcome, and selecting about 170 of them for active employment, placed them under a separate command. With these and the loyal sipáhís he had now nearly 800 able-bodied men fit for any work they might be called upon to perform.
But many disloyal sipáhís still remained in his vicinity. Of these the cavalry and infantry of the native police broke out on the night of the 11th and the morning of the 12th. Vainly did their commandant, the Gould Weston of whom I have spoken, endeavour to recall them to their duty. He owed his own life to his remarkable daring. The 32d, sent in pursuit, followed up the mutinied policemen and inflicted some damage, but the ground was broken, the heat was great, and the mutineers had a considerable start. It was in many respects an advantage to be rid of them.
In view of the great crisis now so near as almost to be touched by the hand, Sir Henry had continued to strengthen the slight defences of the Residency enclosure, and to make the Machchí Bhawan as defensible as possible. He had originally resolved to hold both places. But as soon as he had realised the fact that the small number of his troops would permit only of his retaining one portion against the surging masses of the city and the provinces, he had decided to concentrate all his forces within the Residency. He still, however, for the moment held the Machchí Bhawan, believing that the report of his preparations there would have some effect on the rebels.
He was not quite certain, at this time, that he would be besieged at all. Everything depended on Kánhpur.[1] If British reinforcements could reach that place whilst Wheeler should still be holding it, then, he argued, the people of Oudh, in face of an English force within forty-two miles, would not dare to attempt the siege. He feared very much, however, for Kánhpur. He would have marched to succour the place if it had been possible, but, in the face of the masses of the enemy holding the Ganges, he could not have reached Wheeler's intrenchment, whilst he would have certainly been destroyed himself At length, on the 28th, he heard that Kánhpur had fallen, and that the rebels of his own province, emboldened by the news, had advanced in force to the village of Chinhat, on the Faizábád road, eight miles from the Residency.
Sir Henry promptly decided to move out and attack the rebels. He held, and I am confident he held rightly, that nothing would tend so much to maintain the prestige of the British at this critical conjuncture as the dealing of a heavy blow at their advanced forces. Accordingly, he moved his troops from the cantonment to the Residency, and at half-past six o'clock, on the morning of the 30th of June, set out in the direction of Chinhat, with a force composed as follows: 300 men of the 32d Foot, 230 loyal sipáhís, a troop of volunteer cavalry, thirty-six in number, 120 native troopers, ten guns, and an eight-inch howitzer. Of the ten guns four were manned by Englishmen and six by natives. The howitzer was on a limber drawn by an elephant driven by a native.
After marching three miles along the metalled road the force reached the bridge spanning the rivulet Kukrail. Here Sir Henry halted his men, whilst he rode to the front to reconnoitre. Reining in his horse on the summit of a rising ground, he gazed long and anxiously in the direction of Chinhat. Not a movement was to be seen. Nor when he turned his glass in other directions did he meet with better fortune. There was no enemy. He sent back, then, his assistant Adjutant-General to order the column to retrace its steps. The column had begun to act on the order when suddenly there was descried in the distance a mass of men moving forwards. Instantly revoking his first order, Sir Henry sent fresh instructions that the column should advance. It advanced accordingly, and after proceding a mile and a half plainly saw the rebels drawn up at a distance of about 1200 yards, their right covered by a small hamlet, their left by a village and tank, whilst their centre rested, uncovered, on the road. Just as the English sighted them the rebels opened fire.
Sir Henry at once deployed his men, and bidding them lie down, returned the fire. The cannonade lasted more than an hour, when suddenly it ceased on both sides. Shortly after the rebels were descried, in two masses, advancing against both flanks of the English. The ground lent itself to such a movement, made by vastly superior numbers. For, parallel to the line formed by the men of the 32d, was the village of Ishmáilganj, and into it the rebels were now pouring. The seizure of this village by one-half of the rebel force was a very masterly manœuvre, for it enabled the rebels to pour a concentrated flanking fire on the English line, whilst the other wing was threatened from the opposite side. Conspicuous success attended the movement. In an incredibly short space of time the 32d had lost nearly half its numbers, and it became clear that the English force would be destroyed unless it could reach the bridge over the Kukrail before the enemy could get there. The retreat was at once ordered, and the British force, though pounded with grape and harassed by cavalry all the way, pushed on vigorously. Just, however, as the retreating troops approached the bridge they noticed that bodies of the enemy's cavalry had worked round and were heading them in that direction. The commander of the thirty-six volunteers observing the movement, and realising on the instant its importance, dashed, at the head of his men, against the rebel cavalry. The latter did not wait to receive the impetuous onslaught, but giving way at the sight of the English, sought safety in flight. Still the rebel infantry pressed on, and what was worse, the gun ammunition of the British was exhausted. In this crisis Sir Henry had recourse to one of those heroic remedies of which only men are capable who have the faculty of maintaining undaunted presence of mind in dangerous circumstances. He pushed his men across the bridge; then placed the guns on it, and ordered the gunners to stand beside them with the port-fires lighted. The ruse produced the desired effect. The rebels shrunk back from attacking a narrow bridge defended, as they supposed, by loaded guns. The British force then succeeded in gaining the shelter of the city, and in retiring in some sort of order on the Machchí Bhawan and the Residency. But their losses had been severe, and they had left behind them the howitzer and two field-pieces.
Sir Henry Lawrence, crossing the Kukrail bridge, and disposing his guns in the manner related, had galloped off, leaving Colonel Inglis to bring home the force, unattended by anyone save his assistant Adjutant-General, Captain Wilson, to the Residency. Arrived there he despatched fifty of the 32d, under Lieutenant Edmonstone, to defend the iron bridge against the rebels. This, despite the efforts of the elated enemy, they succeeded in doing, though with some loss. The rebels, however, had penetrated within the city, and, aided by the mass of the population, began to loophole many of the houses in the vicinity of the Residency and the Machchí Bhawan. They went so far as to attack one of the posts of the Residency, afterwards known, from the officer who ultimately commanded there, as 'Anderson's post' The house which constituted the salient point of the post was the residence of Mr Capper. That gentleman was standing in the verandah when a shot from the rebels brought it down and buried him in the ruins. He would have been lost but for the determination to save him at all cost expressed by Anderson. Working with a will, under the concentrated fire of the rebels, this officer, aided by Corporal Oxenham, 32d Foot, M. Geoffroi, a Frenchman, Signor Barsotelli, an Italian, and two Englishmen, Lincoln and Chick, succeeded, by incredible exertions, in rescuing him.[2] It was a very gallant deed.
The following evening Sir Henry, threatened at both points by the enemy, caused the defences of the Machchí Bhawan to be blown up, and concentrated his forces within the Residency enclosure. From that date, the 1st of July, began that famous 'leaguer,' to the story of which I shall, in its proper place, devote a separate chapter.
Following the plan I have laid down on narrating in as close order as possible the contemporaneous events in the stations whose proximity rendered the action in one more or less dependent upon the action in the others, I propose to turn, for a short space, to Allahábád. That place, situated at the junction of the Ganges and the Jamnah, constituted the armed gate through which alone succours'from Calcutta could reach Kánhpur and Lakhnao. Should that gate be closed, or should it be occupied, the fate of both the places mentioned would have depended entirely on the result of the operations before Dehlí.
The fort of Allahábád, founded by Akbar in 1575, lies on a tongue of land formed by the confluence of the two great rivers above mentioned. It is 120 miles distant from Kánhpur, seventy-seven from Banáras, 564 by the railway route, and somewhat more by water from Calcutta. It touched the southern frontier of Oudh, and was in close proximity to the districts of Juánpur, Ázamgarh, and Gorákhpur, the landowners in which had been completely alienated from their British masters by the action of the land and revenue system introduced by Mr Thomason.
The news of the disasters at Mírath and Dehlí reached Allahábád on the 12th of May. The force there was entirely native, the garrison consisting of the 6th Regiment N. I. and a battery of native artillery. Additions to this purely native force were made early in the month of May. On the 9th a wing of the 'Regiment of Fíruzpur,' a Sikh regiment which had been raised on the morrow of the campaign of 1846, and on the 19th a squadron of the 3d Oudh Irregular Horse, also natives, reached the place. The bulk of these troops occupied a cantonment about two and a half miles from the fort, to which they furnished weekly guards. The commanding officer was the Colonel of the 6th N. I., Colonel Simpson, a polished gentleman, but scarcely a born leader of men. The chief civil officers were Mr Chester and Mr Court, both men of ability — the last named, who was magistrate, one of the most energetic, daring, warm-hearted, and enterprising men in India.
These gentlemen had pointed out to the authorities in Calcutta the great danger of leaving a place so important as Allahábád entirely in the hands of natives, and they received permission, in May, to procure from Chanár, a fortress on the Ganges, seventy-six miles distant, some of the European invalided soldiers permanently stationed there. Sixty-five of these arrived on the 23d of May, and a few more later. They were at once placed within the fort.
One of the most remarkable features of the great rebellion was the supreme confidence which officers of the native army reposed to the very last in their own men. This confidence was not shaken when the regiments around them would rise in revolt. Every officer argued, and sincerely believed that, whatever other sipáhís might do, the men of his regiment would remain true. This remark applied specially to the officers of the 6th N. I. I had shortly before been serving at the same station with that regiment, and in no other had I noticed such complete sympathy as existed in it between officers and men. To make their men comfortable, to see that all their wants were attended to, had been the one thought of those officers. I am bound to add that the men, by their behaviour, seemed to reciprocate the kindly feelings of their superiors.
When, then, regiments were rising all over India, the officers of the 6th boasted that, whatever might happen elsewhere, the 6th N. I. would remain staunch and true. So strong was this conviction among them that when, on the 22d of May, a council was held of the chief civil and military authorities, Colonel Simpson deliberately proposed that the whole of his regiment should be moved into the fort to hold it. Mr Court most strenuously, and ultimately successfully, opposed this proposal. The day following the invalids arrived from Chanár, and then all the non-combatants of the station, those in the civil service excepted, moved into the fort with their property.
A circumstance occurred towards the end of May which seemed to justify the confidence of the officers of the 6th N. I. The sipáhís of the regiment, professing the greatest indignation at the conduct of their brethren in the North-west, formally volunteered to march against Dehlí. Their offer was telegraphed to Calcutta, and afforded ground to the councillors of Lord Canning to insist upon their contention that the mutinous spirit was confined to but few stations.
About a week after the sipáhís of the 6th had volunteered to march against the capital of the Mughals they rose in revolt, and murdered many of their own trusting officers, and some young boys, newly-appointed ensigns, who happened to be dining at the regimental mess. It happened in this wise. In reply to the offer to volunteer, the Governor-General had thanked the regiment for its loyalty. A parade was ordered for the morning of the 6th of June to read the Vice-regal thanks to the sipáhís. Colonel Simpson read the words of Lord Canning, and then, on his own behalf, spoke feelingly to the men in their own language, telling them that their reputation would be enhanced throughout India. The sipáhís seemed in the highest spirits, and sent up a ringing cheer. But that evening, whilst the officers and the new arrivals from England were dining at the regimental mess, they rose in revolt, and whilst one detachment attempted to secure the guns of the native battery, the bulk of the men gathered in front of their lines and received their officers as they rode to the spot with murderous volleys. Amongst those who fell were Captain Plunkett, an officer who loved his men, and who only that morning had expressed to them his admiration of their loyalty the Adjutant, Lieutenant Steward, the Quarter-Master, Lieutenant Hawes, and Ensigns Pringle and Munro. Of officers not belonging to the regiment, the Fort Adjutant, Major Birch, Lieutenant Innes of the engineers, and eight of the unposted boys but just arrived from England, were mercilessly slaughtered. Nor was the attempt to capture the guns less successful. Despite the exertions of Lieutenant Harward, commanding the battery, who narrowly escaped with his life, and of Lieutenant Alexander of the Oudh Irregulars, who was killed, the guns were dragged into the lines of the mutineers. The native gunners, in fact, and the troopers of the Oudh Irregulars had fraternised with the rebellious sipáhís. The other officers of the 6th succeeded in securing refuge within the fort.
But was the fort a sure refuge for them? At the moment it seemed very doubtful. And if the fort were to go, the sacrifice of the lives of those behind its ramparts would be the least part of the evil. The strongest and most important link between Calcutta and Kánhpur would in that case be severed. The bulk of the troops garrisoning the fort were Asiatics. There was one company of the 6th N. I., and there was the wing of the Sikh regiment of Fíruzpur. On the other side were sixty-five European invalided soldiers, the officers, the clerks, the women, and the children. The temper of the Sikhs was known to be doubtful. News had arrived that, at Banáras, their countrymen had been fired upon by English gunners. Much, if not everything, depended upon the control possessed over them by their officers.
Fortunately their senior officer on the spot was a man of great daring, of strong character, and absolutely fearless. This was Lieutenant Brasyer, an officer who had been promoted from the ranks for his splendid conduct during the Satlaj campaigns of 1846, and who had risen to a high position in the regiment of Fíruzpur. Brasyer's keen instinct detected on the instant the necessity of taking a quick and bold initiative. Bringing up, then, his Sikhs, supported by the guns on the rampart manned by the sixty-five invalids from Chanár, and on his flank by the hastily armed Europeans and Eurasians, to a point commanding the main gate, at which was posted the company of the 6th N. I., he ordered the sipáhís to pile their arms. There was a moment of hesitation, but then, sullenly and unwillingly, the mutinous soldiers obeyed the order. The muskets were secured, and the sipáhís were expelled the fort.
The fort was secured, but the town, the civil station, and the cantonments were for the moment in the power of the rebels. Most cruelly did they abuse that power. The gaols were broken open, and then the released scum of the population perpetrated atrocities at which the human mind revolts. Not only were the European shops pillaged, the railway works destroyed, the telegraphic wires torn down, but the Europeans and Eurasians, wherever they could be found, were cruelly mutilated and tortured. The death that followed their indescribable torments was hailed by the sufferers as a blessed relief. It need scarcely be added that the treasury was sacked. Then the sipáhís, glutted with blood and gold, abandoning the intention they had previously announced of marching to Dehlí, formally disbanded themselves and made their way, in small parties of twos and threes, each to his native village.
Their departure did not for the moment affect the state of affairs in the city and the station. The landowners, influenced mainly by their dislike of the system known as the Thomasonian system, had risen about the city and in the neighbourhood. A day or two later there came to lead them a man who styled himself the 'Maulaví,'[3] and who possessed considerable organising powers. There we must leave them, whilst we return to Calcutta to note the impression which the events I have recorded in this chapter made upon Lord Canning and his advisers.
- ↑ 'If Kánhpur holds out, I doubt if we shall be besieged at all.' Sir H. Lawrence to Lord Canning.
- ↑ Oxenham received the Victoria Cross; but Capper always felt that he owed his life primarily to Anderson, who was left unrewarded. It was Anderson who suggested the attempt to rescue, who summoned the others to assist him, and who took the chief part in the operation. That operation lasted three-quarters of an hour, during every second of which Anderson, acting against the advice of his superior officer, exposed himself voluntarily to imminent danger.
- ↑ This man is not to be confounded with the Maulaví of Faizábád, of whom I have spoken as having been one of the chief organisers of the rebellion. The Allahábád 'Maulaví,' whose name was Laiákat Alí, had been a schoolmaster. with a great reputation for sanctity.