CHAPTER XVIII.
EVENTS IN THE SÁGAR AND NARBADÁ TERRITORIES, CENTRAL INDIA, RÁJPÚTÁNA, THE MÍRATH DISTRICTS, ROHILKHAND, AND THE PANJÁB.
The Ságar and Narbadá territories, immediately south of, and adjoining, the North-west Provinces, comprised, in 1857, the districts of Ságar, Jabalpur, Hohsangábád, Sióni, Damóh, Narsinhpur, Bétul, Chandérí, Jhánsí, Nagód, and Mandlah. When, in 1843, the Gwáliár Darbár commenced those hostilities against the British which culminated in the battle of Máhárájpur, the chiefs and people of those districts, moved partly by their dislike to the foreign system of administration, partly incited by the Gwáliár Darbár, broke into rebellion. On the conclusion of the peace which followed Máhárájpur, the then Governor-General, Lord Ellenborough, made a clean sweep of the officers who had administered the territories, and deputed Colonel Sleeman to inaugurate a better system. Colonel Sleeman, working on eastern ideas, completely succeeded. His successor, Mr Bushby, continued his system with marked success. But after a rule of five or six years Mr Bushby was promoted. Then, in an evil hour, the Ságar and Narbadá territories were placed directly under the Government of the North-west Provinces.
That transfer caused the introduction of the system called after its inventor Mr Thomason. But for the earnest exhortations of the ablest man in the Commission Major Ternan, that system would have been introduced in all its strictness. Even with some of its most stringent provisions softened down, it worked in a manner to cause great discontent among the chiefs, without satisfying the people.
The mode in which this system worked may be illustrated by the story of the Rája of Dilhérí, the feudal lord of all the Gónd clans. This chief had ever been a loyal supporter of the British connection. For his fidelity in the trying times of 1843 the Government had presented him with a gold medal. Like many of his tribe, he had been rather extravagant in his expenditure, and had incurred debts. These, however, by exercising a strict economy, he had paid off a very short time after the transfer of the Ságar and Narbadá territories to the North-west Government. Now, it was one of the principles of that Government to discourage large landowners. Accordingly, in 1855, just after the Rájá had paid off his debts, Captain Ternan, then in charge of the district in which his estates were situated, received instructions to inform the Rájá that, inasmuch as he had shown himself unfit to hold the title he had inherited, and to manage the estates which had descended to him, he would be deprived of both; that his title would be abolished, and his property distributed among his tenants, he receiving a percentage from the rents. When Ternan, most reluctantly, announced this order to the Rájá, the old man drew from his belt the medal bestowed upon him for his conduct in 1843, and requested him to return it to those who had granted it, as they were now about to disgrace him before his clan and the entire district. With great difficulty Ternan pacified him, but his heart was deeply wounded. Many thought that he would rebel. But, despite the treatment he had received, he was loyal to his British overlord. He sought, indeed, every opportunity of displaying his gratitude to Ternan, who had been censured by the Agra Government for his persistent advocacy of his claims.[1]
The Rájá of Dilhérí was the type of many landowners in the Ságar and Narbadá territories, in fact, throughout the territories subject to the Government of the North-west, who had been ruined by the Thomasonian system. Space does not allow me to give other instances, but in Juánpur, in Ázamgarh, in the delta of the Ganges, in Oudh, in Rohilkhand, they abounded. It was they who roused the country, which offered so stout a resistance to Sir Hugh Rose, between Indúr and Kalpí.
I must pass lightly over the events which happened in the territories of which I am writing. It must suffice to state that three companies of the Gwáliár contingent garrisoning Lalitpur mutinied and expelled their European officers on the 13th of June; that a detachment of native infantry sent out from Ságar, under Major Gaussen, rose on the 23d; that the 3d Irregulars and the 42d N. I., stationed at Ságar, broke out on the ist of July. The last-mentioned mutineers were, however, expelled the day following by the loyal 31st N. I., a regiment loyal to the last. From that moment, and until they were relieved by Sir Hugh Rose, the English men and women, and the loyal sipáhís occupied Ságar, but not one foot of territory beyond it. The districts of Ságar, Chandérí, Jhánsí, Lalitpur, and Jáláun continued until that period to be overrun by rebels. The Rájá of Bánpur, and others of lesser note, boldly asserted their independence.
At Jabalpur, the headquarters of the territories, the 52d N. I. continued for a long time in the performance of their duty. But in September they too mutinied. They were attacked, however, and completely defeated by a body of Madras troops which had been sent up from Kámthí. They then dispersed, but nevertheless refrained from ravaging the country.
The energetic and far-sighted Ternan, of whom I have already spoken, managed, by means of his good understanding with the natives, to clear the rebels from his district, that of Narsinhpur. The district of Nagód was not so fortunate. The 50th N. I., there located, feigned loyalty for a time, but broke out on the 27th of August, when they coolly dismissed their officers and inaugurated a system of plunder. They, too, formed a part of the rebel force which resisted the progress of Sir Hugh Rose.
It remains now to speak of Jhánsí. The city of Jhánsí was the capital of a dependency which, in the break-up of the Mughal empire which followed the death of Aurangzíb, had been appropriated by one of the Maráthá officers serving the Peshwá, and to him confirmed by sanad.[2] The territory so appropriated comprised nearly 1608 square miles, and a population of a quarter of a million. As long as the Peshwá continued to exercise authority in Western India the Maráthá officer and his successors administered the territory as vassals of that prince. But on the downfall of the Peshwá, in 1817-8, Jhánsí, with its other territories, was transferred to the British. The ruler with the title of Subáhdár, accepted the protection of the foreign overlord, and agreed to pay an annual tribute of 74,000 rupees. In return, the British declared his title and position to be hereditary in his family. Fifteen years later, to mark their approval of his rule, they allowed him to assume the title of Rájá. This prince, whose name was Rám Chand Ráo, died without heirs, natural or adopted, in 1835. The Government of India, however, had, as we have said, bestowed the hereditary rule upon his family. They therefore appointed his nearest relative, who happened to be his uncle, to succeed him.
This man was a leper, and incapable. After three years of unpopular rule his death left the quasi-royal seat vacant. There was a lengthened inquiry regarding a successor, and then the Government nominated his brother, Bábá Gangadhar Ráo, to succeed him.
It unfortunately happened that this man was also an imbecile. To prevent the country falling into irremediable confusion the Government then carried on the administration by means of British agency. When, in 1843, a financial equilibrium had been restored, the Government was handed over to the Rájá. After a rule, conducted neither wisely nor well for eleven years, this chief died in 1854, the last surviving member of the family to which the Government of India had, in 1818, guaranteed the succession. There remained only his widow, a young, high-spirited, and ambitious lady. But Lord Dalhousie was of opinion that the guarantee did not extend to any person in whose veins the blood of the founder of the dynasty did not run. In spite, then, of the protestations of that lady he declared the state of Jhánsí to have lapsed to the East India Company.
The Rání, like Náná Sáhib, never forgave that which she considered an insult and an outrage. Powerless, she nursed her resentment, until the revolt of Mírath and the seizure of Dehlí gave her the long-wished-for opportunity. She then, in June 1857, gained to her cause the sipáhís stationed at Jhánsí, enticed the English officers and their families to accept her protection, and had them foully murdered. On the 9th of June she caused herself to be proclaimed Rání of Jhánsí.
Bundelkhand, and Réwá or Bághelkhand, include, besides Réwá, the territories of Tehrí or Urchah, Datiá, Chatrpur, Pannah, and Ajaigarh. The area of the combined territories is 22,400 square miles, and the population 3,200,000. More than half of this belongs to Réwá. The Rájá of Réwá was loyal to the British connection in 1857, and having the good fortune to have at his elbow, as his adviser, an officer of marked ability, the late Major Willoughby Osborne, he was able not only to put down mutiny within his territory, but to assist in repressing it outside its borders. The Rájás of Urchah and of Ajaigarh rendered likewise all the assistance in their power to their British overlord. The territories of the Rájás of the other places mentioned were subjected to the invasion and plundering of the rebels, but in their hearts they too were loyal.
Between Chatrpur and the Jamnah lies the district represented by the stations of Náogáng and Bandah, occupied by native regiments, and by several small states ruled by native chiefs. The sipáhís at Náogáng, belonging to the regiments stationed at Jhánsí, mutinied as soon as they had heard of the action of their comrades at that place. The British officers and their wives, forced to flee, were hospitably received by the Rájá of Chatrpur, but had to quit that place, and eventually succeeded in reaching Bandah. The Nuwáb of Bandah received them and other British fugitives kindly. The time arrived, however, when the Nuwáb, unable to contend against the excited passions of his followers, was forced, nominally at least, to cast in his lot with the rebels. The same charge was made against the unfortunate Ráo of Kírwí, a small state in the Bandah district. Though the territories of the chief were overrun by rebels, his sympathies were with his British overlord. He was a minor, and had no more power to repress the insurrection than a child has to knock down a prize-fighter. Yet the time was to come when, because he and others had not repressed the rebels, they were classed and punished as rebels. This was particularly the case with the innocent Ráo of Kírwí.
Speaking generally, it may be said that, in July and during the following months of 1857, the Ságar and Narbadá territories, and the country to the west of the Jamnah generally, Rewah and the town of Ságar excepted, were in the hands of the rebels. It seemed to depend upon the result of the operations before Dehlí as to whether the rebellion would assume a more aggressive form.
To the south-west of Jhánsí lay the territories of Mahárájá Holkar. These territories comprised the important city of Indur, situated on a tributary of the Siprá, with a population of 15,000; the British cantonment of Máu, between thirteen and fourteen miles[3] distant from the Residency at Indur; Mándu, an ancient and famous city, with numerous ruins, once the capital of Dhár, and at a later period the residence of the Muhammadan kings of Málwá; Dipálpur, twenty-seven miles to the north-west of Máu; and Mehidpur, on the right bank of the Siprá, a town garrisoned by a contingent composed of the three arms, officered by British officers.
At Máu there were stationed, in 1857, the 23d Regiment N. I., a wing of the 1st Native Cavalry, and a field-battery of artillery, with European gunners but native drivers. At Mehidpur the troops, with the exception of the officers, were natives.
The acting British Resident, or, as he was styled in official language, the Agent for the Governor-General, was Colonel Henry Marion Durand, one of the ablest and most prescient of the officers serving the Government of India. His career had been one of strange vicissitudes. The unselfishness of his nature had been the cause of his missing chances which seldom recur twice to the same individual.
The events of the 10th of May at Mírath, and the consequences of those events at Dehlí, had produced an unparalleled commotion in the native mind in the territories of Holkar. Durand felt his position to be one of peculiar importance. The maintenance of order in the country north of the Narbadá depended upon one of two contingencies: one was the fall of Dehlí, the other the arrival of reinforcements from Bombay. Now, the road from Bombay to Agra crossed the Narbadá at a point just below Indur, and ran thence through Central India to a point on the Chambal directly to the north of Gwáliár. The maintenance of this road was the prominent feature in the plan of Durand, He resolved, then, to maintain his own position as long as was possible; to sever, as far as he could, all communications between men of the regular army and those of the native contingents; to secure the Narbadá and the important road I have described; and to reassure the native princes[4] under his superintendence.
But events were too strong even for Durand. Dehlí did not fall, and the reinforcements despatched from Bombay, under circumstances presently to be described, halted at Aurangábád. The rumour that Dehlí had fallen greatly aided his efforts to maintain order for a period of fifty-one days after the Mírath outbreak; but, on the 1st of July, he was attacked in the Residency by the native troops of Holkar. The native troops forming the garrison of the Residency either coalesced with the rebels or refused to act against them. No reinforcements, though they had been sent for, came from Máu; and after a brilliant defence of two and a half hours' duration Durand was compelled to evacuate the Residency, with his small European garrison and the eleven women and children under his charge. His first idea was to retreat on Máu, but as his native escort refused to follow him thither, he had no option, eventually, but to retire on Sihor. He and his companions reached that place on the 4th July. Thence he set out, with the briefest possible delay, to urge upon the commander of the Bombay column the necessity of making safe the line of the Narbadá, so as, to use his own words, 'to interpose a barrier between the blazing north and the smouldering south.'
On the night of the day on which Durand had been compelled to evacuate the Residency at Indur the sipáhís at Máu mutinied, killed three of their officers, and made their way to Dehlí. Captain Hungerford, who commanded the field-battery, remained in occupation of the fort of Máu, and assumed the duties of the Governor-General's Agent, until the arrival of Durand with the Bombay column enabled the latter to resume his duties.
The Mehidpur contingent remained passively loyal until November. On being attacked then by a rebel force superior in numbers, they displayed mingled cowardice and treachery. Ultimately the majority of them fraternised with the rebels. The station, however, was held for the British up to that period.
With the exception, then, of Bhopál, now to be referred to, and Mehipur, that part of Central India represented by the dominions of Holkar had become hostile to the British from the 1st of July.
Bhopál, indeed, was a brilliant exception. The then reigning Begum, Sikandar Begum, had assumed office, in February 1847, as regent for her daughter. She was a very remarkable woman, possessing great resolution, and a more than ordinary talent for affairs. In six years she had paid off the entire public debt of the State, had abolished the system of farming the revenue, had put a stop to monopolies, had reorganised the police, and had reformed the mint. When she scented the breaking out of the rebellion of 1857, she at once made up her mind to fight for her trusted overlord. As early as April she communicated to the British Agent the contents of a lithographed proclamation, urging the overthrow and destruction of the English, which had been sent her. In June she expelled from her territories a native who was raising men for a purpose he did not care to avow. In July she afforded shelter to Durand and those whom he was escorting. She did all these things under enormous difficulties. Her nearest relations were daily urging upon her an opposite course; her troops mutinied, her nobles murmured. But Sikandar Begum never wavered. She caused the English fugitives to be escorted safely to Hoshangábád, she allayed the excitement in her capital, put down the mutinous contingent with a strong hand, restored, and then maintained, order throughout her dominions. Like Sindhiá, she clearly recognised that the safety of the native princes depended upon the maintenance of the beneficently exercised power of the British overlord.
But Bhopál was the exception. In the other portions of the dominions of Holkar the class whose taste is plunder assumed the upper hand. Their further action depended upon the result of the operations before Dehlí.
Nor, although the Mahárájá Sindhiá was loyal to the core, was it otherwise in the dominions of that potentate. The straggling dominions of Sindhiá contained an area of 19,500 square miles, and comprised the towns of Gwáliár, Nárwár, Bhilsá, Ujjain, Rutlám, and the British cantonment of Nímach.
We have seen how the Gwáliár contingent mutinied on the 14th of June. The contingent represented the feelings of the people over whom the Mahárájá ruled. But he never wavered. Contrasting the British overlordship with the probable result of the triumph of the sipáhís — and of the Mughal — he recognised that the welfare of himself and his people depended upon the ultimate success of the British arms — and he acted accordingly.
The station of Nímach lies 371 miles to the south-west of Dehlí. The garrison there consisted of the 72d Regiment N. I., the 7th Regiment of the Gwáliár contingent, and the wing of the 1st Bengal Cavalry. These troops rose in revolt the 3d of June. The officers and their families escaped to Udaipur. Subsequently Nímach was the scene of many events pertaining more to the history of Rájpútána. The sipáhís ultimately made their way to Dehlí.
To the north-west of the territory which bears the geographical name of Central India lies the province of Rájpútána, one of the most interesting provinces of India. From the time of the departure of the great Lord Wellesley, 1805, to the close of the Pindárí war, 1818, the princes and people of Rájpútána had suffered from the want of an overlordship which should protect them against a foreign foe. The treatment which they endured at that period was still fresh in the memory, alike of princes and people, when the mutiny of 1857 broke out. From the moment of its commencement, then, the princes of Rájpútána clustered round the waning fragments of the British power, to protect them against an enemy more terrible even than Amír Khán and the Pindárís. It is true that the contingents furnished by Bhartpur and Kotá revolted. Subsequently, too, the mutinied soldiers of Kotá murdered the British Resident, Major Burton, and his two sons. But the Rájá of Bhartpur was a minor, and it has never been proved how far the Máháráo of Kotá was coerced by his soldiers. Certainly the Rájás and Ráos of the other sixteen principalities were entirely loyal, and they proved their loyalty on many a trying occasion.
The station of Nasirábád, in the Ajmír-Mairwárá district of Rájpútána, 150 miles nearer to Dehlí than was Nímach, was garrisoned by the 15th and 30th Regiments N. I., a battery of native artillery, and the 1st Bombay Lancers. The infantry broke into revolt on the 28th of May; the men of the other arms followed suit. Two officers were killed, and two were wounded. The remainder retreated to Biáur, a town in Ajmír-Mairwárá, escorting the women and children.
At a later date, August 22d, the contingent at Erinpúram, near Mount Ábu, also revolted, and attempted, without much success, to surprise the Europeans, invalided or sick, resting at that sanitarium.
There was one other exception to the general loyalty of the princes, nobles, and people of Rájpútána. That exception was a Thákur or baron of Jodhpur. But that Thákur's grievance was not against the English, but against his liege lord the Rájá. To coerce him, he used the revolted sipáhís — very much, as the result proved — to his own detriment.
But throughout those troublous times the chief figure in Rájpútána was the Governor-General's representative George St Patrick Lawrence, not the least gifted member of a family which had rendered splendid services to India. So long as George Lawrence remained in Rájpútána it was certain that that province would remain firm and steadfast in its loyalty to its overlord.
It did remain so, despite the risings at Nímach, at Nasirábád, at Erinpúram. Yet, even in loyal Rájpútána, much depended upon the issue of contest before Dehlí. In a population of nine millions there were many needy men who coveted the property of the wealthy. These doubtless looked forward with eagerness to the reports of the victories and defeats, of the sorties and the attacks, which daily inundated the bazaars. And if Dehlí had not fallen, if the English army had failed in its final assault, the encouragement which would have raised the populations elsewhere might not have been without an effect even in Rájpútána.
In Mírath and the adjoining districts to the east the subversion of British authority had not been so complete as might have been expected. In Mírath itself authority had soon been restored. And, thanks to the energy displayed by Mr Dunlop, by Mr Brand Sapte, and others, successful attempts were made to re-establish the British power in the villages near it. In June the energetic Magistrate, Mr Wallace Dunlop, had organised a troop of volunteers, composed of officers without regiments, of members of the Civil Service, and of others who happened to be at Mírath. Major Williams, Captain Charles D'Oyley, and Captain Tyrrwhitt occupied the positions of commandant, second in command, and adjutant. Styled, from the colour of the uniform adopted, the Khákí[5] Risálá, this troop, from the end of June to the fall of Dehlí, scoured the country, retook villages, punished marauders, and did all that was possible to restore and to maintain tranquillity. The Risálá was often assisted by regular troops, cavalry as well as infantry.
The adjoining station of Saharanpur was administered by two men possessing rare capacity and great courage, Mr Robert Spankie and Mr Dundas Robertson. These gentlemen, cast upon their own resources, not only maintained order among a rebellious and stiff-necked people, in very difficult circumstances, but they lent their aid to the adjoining districts. To use the words of the lamented Baird-Smith, Chief Engineer of the force besieging Dehlí, Mr Spankie, aided by his energetic subordinates, 'made law respected throughout the district, saved life and property within and beyond it to almost an incalculable extent.' Major Baird-Smith added: 'The ability to complete the works necessary for the capture of Dehlí, within the short time actually employed, was not more a consequence of the indefatigable exertions of the troops in the trenches than of the constant and laborious preparations systematically carried on for months beforehand. To the latter your' (Spankie's) 'aid was frequent and most important.'
Equally successful were the efforts of Mr H. G. Keene in Dehrá Dún; of Mr R. M. Edwards in Muzaffarnagar. In Bulandshahr the splendid exertions of Mr Brand Sapte restored order temporarily; but that station, Síkandarábád, Málágarh, and Khurjá were so much under the control of the disaffected and turbulent Gujar population that it was not possible to retain them permanently until the fate of Dehlí should be decided. The same remark applies to Áligarh, to Gurgáon, to Hisár, and to the district of Rohtak. The country likewise between Áligarh and Agra, notwithstanding the splendid exertions of the Agra volunteers, and the country between Agra and Dehlí, by way of Mathurá, remained in a state of rebellion during that long period of uncertainty.
In the province of Rohilkhand matters were even worse. From the districts and stations of Bijnáur, of Murádábád, of Badáon, of Barélí, of Sháhjahanpur, the English had been expelled under circumstances of great cruelty, and with much shedding of innocent blood. Then a pensioner of the British Government, Khán Bahádur Khán by name, the descendant and heir of the last ruler of the Rohílahs, proclaimed himself Viceroy of the province, under the King of Dehlí, and despatched the sipáhís he had helped to corrupt, under the orders of Bakht Khán, a Subáhdár of artillery, with the title of Brigadier, to Dehlí. Bakht Khán subsequently became Commander-in-Chief of the rebel forces in the Imperial city. Khán Bahádur Khán governed the province for three months and a half. His rule drove to despair all the honest men in it. The nature of that rule may be gathered from the proverb the inhabitants repeated when describing it after the restoration of British rule. 'Life and property were equally unsafe,' they said; 'the buffalo was to the man who held the bludgeon.'
A glance at the map, then, will show that whilst the province immediately contiguous to Dehlí on the east, the province of Rohilkhand, with a population of over five millions, was absolutely held for the King of Dehlí; whilst the Gujar villages between Mírath and the beleaguered city, and the districts of Rohtak and Hisár to the north of it, were in the possession of the insurgents; whilst Mírath, Saháranpur, and Muzaffarnagar were held with difficulty by the British; whilst the country between Dehlí and Agra had pronounced for the rebels; whilst Central India, and the Ságar and Narbadá territories, were overrun by mutineers; whilst Rájpútána itself alone remained true to its traditionary fidelity; whilst, in a word, whether before Dehlí, or in Mírath and the adjoining stations, or at Ságar and Máu, the British held only the ground occupied by their troops, there was yet a most important province to the north and north-west of the city, containing a numerous and warlike population, which had not yet declared itself. That province was the Panjáb. The question which was uppermost in every man's mind was how long the Panjáb would remain quiescent, Dehlí being unsubdued. To the consideration of the means adopted to answer that question favourably to the British I now invite the attention of the reader.
Sir John Lawrence was at Ráwalpindi when the wires flashed to him the story of the outbreak at Mírath and the seizure of Dehlí. Believing, in common with almost every soldier then in India, that, if promptly assailed by a British force, Dehlí would succumb as readily and as promptly as it had succumbed in the time of Lord Lake, he endeavoured by all the means in his power to impress upon General Anson the urgent necessity of marching upon the rebellious city without the smallest delay. He expressed the most unbounded confidence in the immediate result of such a movement. 'I served for nearly thirteen years in Dehlí,' he wrote, on the 21st of May, when General Anson had expressed his doubts as to the wisdom of attempting, with the means at his disposal, an enterprise against Dehlí, ‘and know the people well. My belief is that, with good management on the part of the civil officers, it would open its gates to us on the approach of our troops.' In a subsequent letter he wrote: 'I still think that no real resistance at Dehlí will be attempted; but, of course, we must first get the Mírath force in order, and, in moving against Dehlí, go prepared to fight. My impression is that, on the approach of our troops, the mutineers will either disperse, or the people of the city will rise and open the gates.'
Sir John Lawrence impressed these opinions upon Lord Canning, and in the fourth week of May Lord Canning, under their influence, despatched the most emphatic orders to General Anson to make short work of Dehlí. That he shared the ideas of Sir John Lawrence as to the easy occupation of that city has been shown in a previous page.[6]
Enough has been written, I imagine, to show clearly that Sir John Lawrence was the author of the plan of campaign the first object of which was the recapture of Dehlí. No blame is due to him for having underrated the difficulties of such an enterprise. Dehlí had become the heart of the rebellion, and it was necessary to strike at the heart. But, the step having been taken in compliance with his urgent solicitations, it became incumbent upon him to employ all the resources of the province he administered to render the success of the enterprise absolutely certain.
To do this required the possession of a moral courage greater than is ordinarily allotted to mortals. The position of Sir John Lawrence in the Panjáb was unique. But eight years had elapsed since the fighting classes of that province, led by some of their most powerful chiefs, had contested its possession with the British, on the fields of Chiliánwálá and Gujrát. Never had the English encountered a foe so determined, so daring, and, despite the unskilfulness of their commanders, so hard to defeat. The English had conquered and had annexed the province. Now, only eight years later, Sir John Lawrence would have to call upon the same fighting classes to aid him in resisting the pretensions of the sipáhís by whose assistance they had been conquered. It was, I repeat, a unique position. Sir John Lawrence had to consider whether he could afford to risk the departure from the province of some of the English regiments which were there for its protection, in order to enable him to despatch to the force besieging Dehlí the assistance without which, as events were soon to make clear, that city could not be taken. He had to recollect that he, too, was encumbered by a large garrison of sipáhís imbued with the leaven of mutiny; that he would have to deal with these; that it would be incumbent upon him to repose a trust nearly absolute in the Sikhs; that, in a word, he would have to risk everything to ensure the success of that march against Dehlí, of which he had been the persistent advocate.
A brave man, morally as well as physically, Sir John Lawrence even courted the ordeal. From the very first he devoted all his energies to the employment of the resources of the Panjáb in the subduing of Dehlí. One of his first acts was to despatch thither the splendid Guide corps, composed entirely of frontier men, and consisting of cavalry and infantry. That corps quitted the frontier on the 13th of May, and, as already related, joined the force before Dehlí the day after Barnard had made good his position on the ridge. His lieutenants at Pasháwar, Herbert Edwardes, Neville Chamberlain, and John Nicholson, had, in concert with General Reed, commanding the division, and Sydney Cotton, commanding the brigade, jotted down the heads of a plan for the formation of a moveable column. This scheme was approved by Lawrence, and acted upon somewhat later.
Meanwhile, his lieutenant at Láhor, Robert Montgomery, had taken the wise precaution of disarming the sipáhís at Mían Mír (May 13th); the general at Pasháwar carried out a similar policy on the 22d, and generally, by the enlistment of old Sikhs as gunners, and by the timely securing of important places, Sir John made the province, which was to be the base of his operations, as secure as, under the circumstances, it could be made.
That some outbreaks should take place was, in the excited state of the minds of the sipáhís, but natural. These will be related in their proper place.
The first indication of actual outbreak on the part of the sipáhís occurred at Mardán, when the 55th N. I., who had replaced the Guide corps at that station, rose in rebellion rather than surrender their arms, and rushed off towards the hills of Swát. Nicholson pursued them with a few trusty horsemen, caught them on their way, killed 120 of them in fair fight, made 150 prisoners, and forced. the remainder to take refuge in the Lund-khur hills. On the 7th of June the native regiments stationed at Jálandhar rose in revolt, and swept on to Lodiáná, on their way to Dehlí. An energetic member of the Civil Service, George Ricketts, in concert with Lieutenant Williams of the Indian army, made a most determined and gallant effort to prevent the passage by them of the Satlaj. But the levies at their disposal were few, and some of these crumbled in their hands. After a fight of two hours' duration the rebels had their way. Williams was shot through the lungs. The rebels, on reaching Lodiáná, roused the population to revolt, released the prisoners, and pushed on to Dehlí. The British troops at Jálandhar pursued them, but with so little energy that, alike at the passage of the Satlaj and at Lodiáná, they were always too late.
Meanwhile, Sir John Lawrence had gradually realised that, in predicting the immediate fall of Dehlí on the appearance before it of the British troops, he had been over-sanguine. As day succeeded day, and the force of the rebels was augmented by the arrival of the mutinied regiments, whilst that of the besiegers decreased by casualties, the outlook assumed very serious proportions. Still more than ever John Lawrence adhered to his resolution at all costs to pierce the heart of the enemy's position. He had had too much experience of the Sikhs not to know that their fidelity depended upon success; that it would be dangerous to prolong indefinitely a situation which already was becoming critical. Impressed with these views, he wrote, on the 9th of June, to Edwardes, suggesting the advisability, under certain circumstances, of relinquishing the British hold on Pasháwar, and withdrawing the British forces across the Indus. Edwardes, Nicholson, and Sydney Cotton replied (June 11) by a joint protest against such a scheme. 'Pasháwar,' wrote Edwardes, 'is the anchor of the Panjáb, and if you take it the whole ship will drift to sea.' Eight days later Edwardes repeated his objections, supporting them with cogent arguments.
But Sir John would not give way. He regarded Dehlí as the decisive point of the scene of action, and argued that the importance of holding Pasháwar must yield to the superior necessity of recapturing Dehlí. 'There was no one thing,' he wrote (June 22d), 'which tended so much to the ruin of Napoleon, in 1814, as the tenacity with which,[7] after the disaster at Leipsic, he clung to the line of the Elbe, instead of falling back at once to that of the Rhine.' So impressed had he been, almost from the first, of the wisdom of making the sacrifice, under certain circumstances, that he, on June 10th, had written to Lord Canning for permission carry his plans into effect should the necessity arise.
On the 25th of June he believed that the necessity had almost arisen, and he telegraphed to Edwardes, detailing the bad news that had arrived, and adding, 'if matters get worse, it is my decided opinion that the Pasháwar arrangement should take effect. Our troops before Dehlí must be reinforced, and that largely.' Against this Edwardes, Cotton, and Nicholson strongly protested. The question was set at rest some weeks later by the receipt from Lord Canning of a telegram containing the words: 'Hold on to Pasháwar to the last.'
Before that telegram had arrived events had occurred to show that the position was becoming more and more serious. On the morning of the 7th of July the 14th Regiment N. I. mutinied at Jhelam, and, taking a strong position, repulsed with some loss two attacks made upon it by the English troops. That night the sipáhís evacuated their position and fled. It is supposed that most of them ultimately perished. But the affair was managed in a manner which reflected but little credit on the authorities.
The day following the native troops at Síálkót followed the example of their brethren at Jhelam. The station had been denuded of European troops for the formation of the moveable column. The native regiments were the 46th N. I. and the 9th Cavalry. These men, summoned to Dehlí by the King, were apparently anxious to reach that place, their hands red with the blood of English men and women. They therefore murdered as many of the race as they could find. The survivors took refuge in an old fort, once the stronghold of a Sikh chief, Tej Singh. Then the mutineers, having plundered the treasury, having released the prisoners, and effected all the damage they could, started for Dehlí. I shall tell very shortly the fate which befell them on the way.
Meanwhile, the moveable column had been formed, and on the 22d of June John Nicholson, with the rank of Brigadier-General, had assumed command of it. It augured no small courage on the part of Sir John Lawrence to take a regimental captain from Civil employment, and place him in command over the heads of men his seniors. But the times were critical, and at all costs the best man had to be selected if Dehlí was to be relieved.
The force commanded by Nicholson consisted of the 52d Light Infantry, Dawes's troop of horse-artillery, Bourchier's field-battery, the 33d and 35th N. I., and a wing of the 9th native light cavalry. Nicholson joined the force at Jálandhar, and marched straight to Philaúr. Under the walls of the fort of that name he disarmed the two sipáhí regiments, then retraced his steps to Amritsar, a central position commanding Láhor, the Jálandhar Duáb, and the Mánjhá. He was there when news reached him of the mutiny at Jhelam. His first step was to disarm the native regiment, the 59th N. I., located at Amritsar. The next day brought him information that the 58th N. I. and two companies of the 14th, the regiment which had fought at Jhelam, had been disarmed, though in a very clumsy manner, at Ráwalpindí. On the 9th of July he heard of the insurrection at Síálkót, in which the left wing of the regiment, the 9th native cavalry, the right wing of which was with him, had taken a very prominent part. He promptly disarmed that wing; then learning that the Síálkót mutineers were marching on Gúrdáspur, forty miles distant from him, he resolved to intercept them in the course which he felt convinced they would take, via Núrpur and Hoshiárpur, to Jálandhar. Quitting Amritsar on the 10th, he made a forced march to Gúrdáspur, reached it the evening of the 11th to find that the rebels were at Núrkót, some fifteen miles from the Ráví, on its northern side. As they would have to cross that river, Nicholson, commanding the inner line, waited until their movement had been pronounced; then learning that they were crossing at Trimmu-ghát, he threw himself upon them, and after a contest so severe that it became necessary to try conclusions with the bayonet, drove them back upon the river, with a loss of between three and four hundred men. Unable, from the intense heat and the exertions to which his men had been exposed, to follow them further, he left a party to guard the ghát, and returned with the bulk of the brigade to Gúrdáspur. The river, meanwhile, had risen, and the rebels, unable to reach the further bank, had taken a position on an island in its centre, whence, by the aid of an old gun they had brought from Síálkót, they hoped to defy all enemies. Nicholson, however, was resolved to give them a lesson. Devoting the three following days to the procuring of boats, watching the rebels carefully during that period, he embarked his infantry, on the morning of the 16th, and landed them at one extremity of the island, whilst he placed his guns so as to cover their advance against the enemy at the further end. These tactics completely succeeded. The rebels were defeated with very heavy loss, many were drowned in attempting to escape, and the few who reached the shore were given up by the villagers.
Nicholson then returned to Láhor, met there Sir John Lawrence, and learned that on his way to and beyond the Satlaj his column would be reinforced by 2500 men, of whom 400 belonged to the 61st Foot, 200 to the 8th Foot, 100 to the artillery, and the remainder were Sikhs or Balúchís. On the 24th he received his orders to march for Dehlí, crossed the Bíás on the 25th, and pushing forward with all speed, taking up his reinforcements as he marched, reached Bárá, in Sirhind, on the 3d of August. There he received a despatch from General Wilson, commanding the force besieging Dehlí, telling him that the rebels had established themselves in force on the Najafgarh canal, with the intention of moving on Alípur and his communications to the rear, and requesting him to push forward with all expedition to drive them off. Nicholson did push on, reached Ambálah on the 6th, and thence wrote to Wilson to promise that the column should be at Karnál on the 8th, and would push on thence to Pánípat, where he would rejoin it. Meanwhile, he hurried on in advance to see Wilson. He stayed in camp a few days, took note of all that was going on, then returning, met his column, and marched into camp at the head of it on the 14th of August. There for the moment I must leave him.
- ↑ When the Narsinhpur district was in a state of rebellion, the house of Ternan, who had refused to quit it, was surrounded early one morning by a considerable body of matchlockmen. Ternan saw at a glance that they belonged to the Dilhérí clan. He at once summoned the chief, and asked him the reason for such a display. The chief replied: 'You behaved kindly to us, and fought our battle when the title and the estate were confiscated, and you were abused for so doing. Now we hear disturbances are rife, and we come to offer you our services. We will stick by you, as you stuck by us. What do you wish us to do?' Ternan accepted their offer, and the members of the large clan remained loyal, and rendered good service to the British Government throughout the trying events of 1857-8.
- ↑ Sanad, a patent grant or charter issuing from the Government.
- ↑ A new road has since been made, reducing the distance to ten miles.
- ↑ These were Holkar himself, the rulers of the States of Bhopál, Dhár, Dewás, and Barwáni.
- ↑ Khákí, i.e., dust-colour.
- ↑ Page 96.
- ↑ This should surely read 'before.' Napoleon did fall back on the Rhine after Leipsic.