Anonymous

THE REIGN OF VICTORIA (continued).

Havelock to the Front—His Advance from Allahabad—Battle of Futtehpore—Battle of Aong—Battle of Cawnpore—Nana Sahib's Position—It is turned by Havelock—The Enemy resist obstinately—The final Charge—Cawnpore reoccupied—Nana Sahib's Vengeance—Havelock pushes on for Lucknow—Battle of Onao—First Battle of Busserutgunge—The second Battle—The third—Havelock recrosses the Ganges—Battle of Bithoor—End of Havelock's first Campaign—Lord Canning and Jung Bahadoor—Mutiny at Dinapore—Its Effects—Before Delhi—Attempt to surprise a Convoy—Death of Barnard—The British Lines attacked—The Assault renewed—The Remainder of July—Wilson's Discipline—John Lawrence's Perplexities—Disarmament at Rawul Pindee and Jhelum—Mutiny at Sealkote—It is avenged by Nicholson—Cooper shoots Sepoys in Batches—The Drama at Peshawur—Reinforcements for Delhi—Nicholson arrives—Battle of Nujuffghar—The Crisis in the Siege.

WE have seen the rebels assailed at Delhi, and subjected to a siege; we have seen them become the besiegers of the British at Lucknow, and triumphant by horrible treachery at Cawnpore. We left Colonel Neill at Allahabad preparing the way for Havelock; and it is now time to describe the marvellous career of that general from Allahabad to Cawnpore. Havelock, as we have said heretofore, reached Calcutta on the 17th of June, and on the 20th he was appointed to command a movable column which was to be collected at Allahabad. Five days afterwards he quitted Calcutta, and on the 28th of June, one day after the bloody business at Cawnpore, he arrived at Benares. On the 30th he reached Allahabad. That very day, with the sanction of Sir Patrick Grant, Commander-in-Chief at Calcutta, the first detachment prepared by Neill marched for Cawnpore. It consisted of 400 Europeans, 420 natives, chiefly Sikhs, and two guns, the whole under Major Renaud. Havelock, soon after he arrived, sent 100 men in a steamer up the Ganges, to cover the right flank, but was himself obliged to wait, not only for carriage, but for troops, until the 7th of July before he could start. On the 3rd he learned the state of the Cawnpore garrison, and found that his duty, instead of saving them, would be first to recover Cawnpore and then essay to relieve Lucknow. On the 7th of July he set out to join Renaud, taking with him about 1,000 bayonets, furnished by the 78th Highlanders, the 64th, the 84th, the Madras Fusiliers and Braysher's Sikhs, the bulk of whom were with Renaud. Havelock had also eighteen volunteer horsemen and six guns. Such was the force which, on the afternoon of the 7th of July, 1857, moved out of Allahabad to perform one of the most striking campaigns in the history of India.

Major Renaud had pushed onwards about seventy miles towards Cawnpore, and had halted, according to orders. For Havelock, by dint of a judicious use of money, had secured excellent information of the enemy's proceedings; and knowing that Nana Sahib was advancing on Renaud, intent on snapping him up, Havelock pushed on by forced marches, and joining him on the night of the 11th, both hastened forward to Belinda, a few miles from Futtehpore. Lo! the rebels were there. It was now Havelock's chance. He resolved to force an action, although he had only 1,800 men and eight guns to match against their 3,500 men and twelve guns.

The Sepoy mutineers were in position across the road. They occupied ground broken by swamps, groves, and hillocks, as a front line, with the enclosures of Futtehpore to fall back upon. The Trunk Road ran through the position, and formed the best line of advance. Havelock put his guns in the centre, and covered them with 100 riflemen. He disposed of his other troops in columns preceded by skirmishers, and he put his handful of horse on the flanks. In this order he advanced. Some of the troops had Enfield rifles, and with these, deftly used, he struck the rebels at ranges which filled them with amazement. In ten minutes, says Havelock, the action was decided, so distressed were they at the fire of the rifle and Maude's artillery. The enemy at once abandoned three guns. "As we moved forward," writes the general, "the enemy's guns continued to fall into our hands, and then, in succession, they were driven from the garden enclosures, from a strong barricade on the road, from the town wall, into and through, out of, and beyond the town." Here they tried to stand; the 2nd Cavalry charged, and our irregulars fled leaving the volunteers alone; but the Rifles got into action, and the guns came up, and the rebels bolted altogether, leaving in our hands eleven guns. We actually did not lose a single man at the hands of the enemy, but twelve died of sunstroke. They had been afoot fourteen hours, had fought without food, and now sank exhausted.

Resting on the 13th, Havelock took three of the captured guns and added them to his train, and sent 100 Sikhs to guard his communications. At daybreak on the 15th Havelock's force found itself again in front of the enemy. He had entrenched the Great Road in front of the village of Aong, and garnished his line with two guns. This was a strong outpost covering the main position of the rebels behind the stone bridge over the Pandoo Nuddy, a stream, now swollen by the rains. It was necessary to pass Aong, and push on as fast as possible to the bridge. General Havelock divided his little army into two parts. One part he placed under the orders of Colonel Tytler. This was destined to assail the enemy. With the other the general himself guarded his train and baggage from the enemy's horse. Tytler moved up, the Volunteer Cavalry, under the gallant Barrow, leading the way. The enemy's guns opened, and the Sepoys, intending to attack while the troops were forming, advanced with a confident air from their position to a village. Thereupon Major Renaud, with his Madras Fusiliers, pounced upon them like lightning and drove them back; but in the combat he received a mortal wound. Then Tytler closed with the enemy, expelled him from gardens and buildings and put him to flight, but could not reach his guns. Havelock, for his share, had beaten off repeated onsets of cavalry, and these now retired to rejoin their comrades. Halting his men, Havelock anxiously awaited reports respecting the doings of the enemy on the Pandoo Nuddy. The news came. The enemy were engaged in strengthening their position on this river by mining the bridge. The moment was critical, if they were permitted to succeed in this work, the march of the army would be arrested for several days. On the other hand, the troops had been on foot since midnight and had not fed. But Havelock did not hesitate. Two hours' march under a burning sun brought his band to the bank of the river. The Sepoys were arrayed beyond the bridge; they were at work under one of the arches; and they had two 24-pounders, so planted that their fire swept the Great Road. The plan of attack was soon decided on. Eight guns were drawn up in positions which enabled them to concentrate their fire on the bridge. There was a bend in the river at this point, and the Madras Fusiliers, armed with the Enfield rifle, at once took advantage of this, by pushing up in open order above and below the bridge, and from the banks of the river pouring in a hail of bullets on the rebel artillerymen. This shook the steadiness of the enemy, the fire of our guns increased his alarm; and when the mine in the bridge was seen to explode, yet failed to injure the structure, the artillerymen lost heart. As the fire slackened, Major Stephenson gathered up his Fusiliers, and dashing at the bridge carried it with a rush and seized the guns. Thereupon the mutineers took to their heels and made off for Cawnpore.

There was another battle before them. They marched the next morning, the 16th. Cawnpore was twenty-four miles away. Before them lay an arid road. The sun was more formidable than the foe. Nana Sahib, alarmed at the progress of Havelock, and enraged by the repeated defeats of the mutineers, had concentrated all his forces, about 5,000 men and eight guns, and had posted them a few miles from Cawnpore, determined there to give battle. Havelock marched his men sixteen miles, then halted for three hours, resumed his march at two o'clock, leaving his baggage under a guard in the village, and quickly came within sight of the enemy. The mutineer army had been posted with some skill. It was drawn up across two roads, one leading to the cantonments at Cawnpore, the other being the Great Trunk Road to Delhi. Each flank rested on a native village; another village strengthened the centre. All were entrenched or walled. The Ganges was distant about a mile from the left, and on the right rose the half-finished embankment for the railway. The rebel infantry were drawn up in a concave line from flank to flank. Their horse were in a body on the left, and their guns were so disposed along the line as to sweep the two roads. About 1,200 yards from the centre of the lines the roads became one, that is, the cantonment road diverged at this point from the Trunk Road. Beyond the point of junction a fringe of wood ran towards the Ganges. In taking up this position the enemy had calculated on a front attack. He had measured out distances along the roads, and his gunners stood ready to fire as soon as the British came within range.

But he had to deal with a general versed in warfare. On coming within sight of the enemy, Havelock took steps to ascertain from the country folk the nature of the country on both flanks of the rebel host, for he had resolved to turn one or the other. He found that the enemy's left was the more assailable. Thus a force marched for about a mile and a half behind the screen of trees, while the little body of Volunteer Horse showed themselves on the Trunk Road, as if they were the forerunners of a front attack.

THE HIGHLANDERS CAPTURING THE GUNS AT CAWNPORE. (See p. 221.)

Suddenly the enemy became aware of the object of the manoeuvre, as he caught glimpses, through breaks in the wood, of a column moving behind the trees. He opened fire. Our troops, without heeding shot and shell, moved silently on, until they arrived at a point parallel to the rebel position. Then they wheeled into line. The guns came up and opened fire, and the Madras riflemen once more spread out and made play with their splendid weapons. But Havelock was not the man to trifle with an advantage of position such as he had gained by his skilful march. He ordered an advance in Échelon from the right. The Madras men went first in open order; the 78th Highlanders came next, then the 64th and 84th combined, and lastly the Sikhs. There were three 24-pounders on the enemy's left, well entrenched behind a village. The 78th were launched upon them. Moving up steadily under a fire of grape, until they were within eighty yards, their colonel, Hamilton, in front, the bagpipes playing in the rear, the Highlanders suddenly rent the air with a fierce shout, and, charging in, carried the village, and captured the guns, breaking the enemy's left into two parts, hurling one in confusion on the centre, and shouldering the other to the rear. In the meantime the 64th had come abreast of the Highlanders, and the Madras Fusiliers, on the other flank, had successfully encountered and defeated the rebel cavalry. Reforming the 78th, Havelock rode to the front, and pointing to the rally of the enemy on his centre round a howitzer, cried, "Now, Highlanders, another charge like that wins the day." The charge was made, and, with the aid of the 64th, the gun was captured. The Volunteer Horse, too, making a daring charge up the road, fell upon the enemy and slew many. The whole of the British force was now united again after its rough fight. The position of the enemy and several of his guns had been won, and our troops, emerging in the rear of it, reformed. The Sepoys had again rallied, with commendable promptitude, on Suktipore, a village between the two roads. From this they had to be driven. Havelock's voice was again heard animating his soldiers to renewed exertions, and again, this time unsupported by any artillery fire from our side, did those noble foot soldiers of Britain drive the foe before them. Yet again he rallied, so stubborn was he in this combat. Nana Sahib, present on the field, was seen to be encouraging his troops. He brought them up as the sun was setting, and prepared for a last effort. He still had a 24-pounder and two pieces of smaller calibre, and with these he commanded our men, now lying down, awaiting their artillery. The sun went down. There were about 900 British soldiers, only awaiting a signal from Havelock. "The final crisis," he writes, "had arrived. My artillery cattle, wearied by the length of the march, could not bring up the guns to my assistance; and the Madras Fusiliers, the 64th, 84th, and 78th detachments, formed in line, were exposed to a heavy fire from the 24-pounder on the road. I was resolved this state of things should not last; so, calling upon my men, who were lying down in line, to leap on their feet, I directed another steady advance. It was irresistible. The enemy sent round shot into our ranks, until we were within 300 yards, and then poured in grape with such precision and determination as I have seldom witnessed. But the 64th, led by Major Stirling and by my aide-de-camp [his son, Henry Havelock] who had placed himself in their front, were not to be denied. Their rear showed the ground strewed with wounded; but on they steadily and silently came; then, with a cheer, charged and captured the unwieldy trophy of their valour. The enemy lost all heart, and after a hurried fire of musketry gave way in total rout. Four of my guns came up, and completed their discomfiture by a heavy cannonade; and as it grew dark, the roofless barracks of our artillery were dimly descried in advance, and it was evident that Cawnpore was once more in our possession."

The next morning spies brought in the dreadful news that Nana Sahib had retreated from Cawnpore after butchering all the prisoners. Havelock immediately sent forward an advanced guard to test the truth of this, and as they came up to the old cantonments, an explosion shook the earth. It was the old magazine which the troopers of the enemy's rear-guard had fired. The army now entered the place. It was a memorable day, the 17th of July, when Cawnpore was recovered, for the horrors it brought to light kindled to an intensity beyond conception the passions of the British soldiers.

For the first thing done was to visit the entrenchment, and the house in which the prisoners had been confined. At the sight thereof strong men wept, and a fierce thirst for vengeance seized them and made them terrible in battle. From subsequent inquiries, it appeared that Nana Sahib had preserved the lives of 47 of the women and children from Futtehghur, and 163 of the old Cawnpore garrison. These he kept prisoners. "The captives," writes Captain Thomson, "were fed with only one meal a day of dhÂl and chupatties, and these of the meanest sort; they had to eat out of earthen pans, and the food was served by menials of the lowest caste (mehter), which in itself was the greatest indignity that Easterns could cast upon them. They had no furniture, no beds, not even straw to lie down upon, but only coarse bamboo matting of the roughest make. The house in which they were incarcerated had formerly been occupied as the dwelling of a native clerk; it comprised two principal rooms, each about twenty feet long and ten broad, and besides these, a number of dark closets rather than rooms, which had been originally intended for the use of native servants; in addition to these, a courtyard, about fifteen yards square."

After the defeat of his troops on the Pandoo Nuddy—that is, on the 15th of July—Nana Sahib ordered all the prisoners to be slain. It must have been anger and hate and a love of cruelty which prompted this dastardly act. When our troops arrived, Mr. Sherer, the newly-appointed magistrate, began an investigation, from which we learn the facts as nearly as they can be known. "When Mr. Sherer," writes Captain Thomson, "entered the house of horrors, in which the slaughter of the women had been perpetrated, the rooms were covered with human gore; articles of clothing that had belonged to women and children—collars, combs, shoes, caps, and little round hats—were found steeped in blood; the walls were spattered with blood, the mats on the floor saturated; the plaster sides of the place were scored with sword-cuts, and pieces of long hair were all about the room. No writing was upon the walls, and it is supposed that the inscriptions, which soon became numerous, were put there by the troops, to infuriate each other in the work of revenging the atrocities that had been perpetrated there. There is no doubt that the death of the unhappy victims was accomplished by the sword, and that their bodies, stripped of all clothing, were thrown into an adjacent well. A Bible was found that had belonged to Miss Blair, in which she had written; '27th June—Went to the boats. 29th.—Taken out of boats. 30th.—Taken to Sevadah Kothi; fatal day.'" Such was the scene which tore the hearts of our valiant soldiers, and the recital of which made the whole world shudder. It is related that the Highlanders, on coming to a body which had been barbarously exposed, and which was supposed to be that of Sir Hugh Wheeler's daughter, cut off the tresses, and counting the hairs, swore that for every hair a rebel should die.

The reaction which followed his great successes, combined with the critical position in which he found himself, for a moment depressed the spirit of the undaunted Havelock. Here was this fearful massacre; here was news from Lucknow of the death of Henry Lawrence; from Delhi, of the death of General Barnard; from Agra, of a defeat of the troops there; and from Bithoor, that Nana Sahib had garrisoned that stronghold with 5,000 men. But one night's brief repose restored to the general his wonted calmness. Getting news of the march of a reinforcement, under Neill from Allahabad, he, on the 12th, selected a situation for a fort, commanding the passage of the Ganges, and prepared all things for an attempt to cut his way to Lucknow. Meanwhile Nana Sahib had evacuated Bithoor, and crossed into Oude.

On the 29th Havelock marched upon Onao. Here the rebels had occupied the ground with considerable skill. A deep swamp covered their right. Onao itself protected their left. In front was a village, and a garden entrenched like a bastion. In front of the village were enclosures. Thus the general found that he could not turn the position on either hand. He was forced to assail it in front. The order was given. With ready valour the Highlanders and Fusiliers drove the enemy out of the garden. They fell back on the village; their fire was hot; the 64th had to be brought up; and, all charging together, the village was stormed and the guns captured. This enabled Havelock to interpose his force between the enemy and Onao, towards which town they were hurrying. Firmly lodged on a piece of dry ground in the midst of swamps, and assailable only on a narrow front, Havelock saw his advantage, and allowing the enemy to come near, he shot them to pieces as they crowded on the road. The Oude native artillery, which had been carefully drilled, behaved with great gallantry; many gunners served their pieces to the last, and fell beside them under the rifles of the Fusiliers and the bayonets of the British Linesmen. Havelock stood victor, and master of fifteen of the enemy's guns.

The troops, after a halt of three hours to rest and eat, once more marched. The rebels had rallied at Busserutgunge. This was a walled town. The gate facing our troops was entrenched, and mounted four guns, and was flanked by towers. The road to Lucknow, running through the place, emerged at the opposite gate, and then was carried on a causeway through one of those large pieces of water called jheels. Concentrating a fire of artillery on the gate, Havelock held the Fusiliers and Highlanders ready to storm it, while he detached the 64th to the left to turn the town and cut off the retreat of the enemy. While the guns were in action, the storming column lay down; but when the fire of the defence slackened, and the Sepoys, frightened at the flank movement, began to run, the Highlanders and Fusiliers, with stern shouts, sprang up and carried the gate at a bound. The enemy fled over the causeway—for the 64th had not come up—and the battle was won.

But Havelock was destined to disappointment. A mutiny at Dinapore had prevented the arrival of the 5th and 90th regiments. He had lost nearly a hundred men on the 29th; a third of his ammunition was expended; cholera, smiting down scores, was in his camp; he had little or no spare transport; so, with a bitter feeling, he fell back to Mungulwar. Here he received five more guns and 257 men, but was obliged to disarm his native gun Lascars. The enemy—mutineers from Oude and Saugor, in Central India—was now gathering in force at Bithoor, and Neill was apprehensive of an attack; but Havelock, determined to try again, told Neill to hold his communications, and on the 4th of August marched to Onao, and on the 5th once more to Busserutgunge. Here the enemy were again. Knowing the ground better this time, the general, while he prepared to cannonade the front of the village, sent a force round their left flank. When this force emerged, he began the cannonade. The effect was instantaneous. Smitten by a point-blank fire of shot and shell, the rebels fled. The 64th and 84th dashed into the gate, while the Highlanders and Fusiliers and four of Maude's guns caught them as they streamed out on to the causeway. But, with great courage, the enemy rallied again in a village on both flanks. These were carried in brilliant style. The Sepoys carried off their cannon, but left 250 men on the field. Havelock could not improve his victories, because he had no cavalry. This was a fatal defect, as it gave the enemy time to rally. Our loss—so swift and able had been our movements—was only two killed and twenty-three wounded.

Yet even now Havelock could not go on. As the Oude folk defended every post, he felt that he could only reach Lucknow with a force too weak to break in, much less carry off the garrison. He heard also that the Gwalior contingent was moving up to the Jumna, and he knew that Nana Sahib was not far off in Oude, and that the mutineers at Bithoor were growing every day stronger. Therefore he once more fell back to Mungulwar. The troops were indignant, but there is no doubt the general was right. His army was the only force we had between Behar and Delhi, and he was bound not to throw it away uselessly. He, therefore, drew up at Mungulwar, entrenched it, and made good his raft bridge over the Ganges, hoping in vain that reinforcements would arrive. Neill now urged him to send over aid to drive the enemy from Bithoor, who were meditating offensive operations. Havelock then resolved to abandon Oude altogether. He had begun to re-cross the river, when he learned that 5,000 men, with artillery, had occupied Busserutgunge. He saw that if he retreated under such a threat without striking a blow, he would lose much of that moral influence his daring actions had secured. So, before crossing he turned upon his foe. Two marches brought him up to the position. Again the enemy had made a skilful choice of position; and again, by skill and courage, our troops thrust him out of it, with heavy loss to him and little to them. Thus they had been thrice beaten on this one battlefield. Having struck this heavy blow, Havelock retreated at once, and on the 13th of August crossed to the right bank of the Ganges; then the bridge was broken up, and the boats brought over to the Cawnpore side. Such was the first effort to relieve Lucknow. It failed; but it is impossible not to admire the devotion and resolution of the general and his men, who—in spite of such odds as were arrayed against them—in spite of the fervid heat and its effects fever, cholera, lassitude—had eight times encountered victoriously the enemy on the field of battle.

On the 16th he went forth to his ninth action. The rebels at Bithoor were now to feel the weight of his hand. They were a "scratch pack," from five regiments, but they had a strong position, and many of them were very brave men. They were drawn up in fields of sugar-cane, with a village and an enclosure here and there, and behind a line of breastwork. Behind these was a stream crossed by a stone bridge. Instead of having this in their rear, the enemy should have had it in front. No doubt he relied on his numbers. After a march, under a cloudless August sun, the troops came up with the enemy, and speedily routed him out of his cane-brakes, but not before, in some cases, men of the 42nd Native Infantry had crossed bayonets with the Madras Fusiliers. The real work had now to be done. Covered by his breastwork, the enemy fought with great obstinacy, keeping his great guns going, and maintaining a fire of musketry equal, so thought the general, to that of the Sikhs at Ferozeshah. Our artillery could not silence the Sepoy guns. There was nothing for it but the bayonet. Our infantry got the word they loved so much, and charging in upon the enemy, lifted him clean over the bridge, captured his guns, and put him to flight. Havelock halted at Bithoor one night, and then returned to Cawnpore. Before he left he had cleared the town, and had blown up the remains of the Nana's buildings. The reason for retreating was that the defeated force might have doubled round upon Cawnpore, and sacked it in the absence of the troops. This action terminated Havelock's first campaign. He now learned, to his chagrin, that Sir James Outram had been appointed to take command of the troops destined for the relief of Lucknow. Here we must quit for a time this noble soldier, whose services were inestimable. But before we return to Delhi, we must tell by what accumulation of stupidities the reinforcements destined for Havelock were delayed on the road.

The reasons lie in the defective resolution of the Calcutta Government. At an early stage in the mutiny, Jung Bahadoor, of Nepaul, had offered his assistance, and Major Ramsay, our agent at his capital, had transmitted the offer. He proposed to send six regiments of Nepaulese to Benares or Allahabad. The Government did not like to acquiesce in this destination of the troops. Benares and Allahabad were too important to be held by any natives. The proposal was declined; but, after a lapse of some days, when our prospects grew every moment more gloomy, Jung Bahadoor's offer was accepted, but he was directed to move on and occupy Goruckpore. Here he might do good and could do little harm. In this opinion not only the Calcutta Government, but Mr. Tucker at Benares, and Havelock at Cawnpore acquiesced, and the last declared that he could not accept aid from the Nepaulese, unless their women and children and sick were left in some place as a sort of hostages, so profound was the distrust at this time of any natives. Lord Canning has been censured with regard to his treatment of the Nepaulese, but we do not think wisely. His treatment of the Sepoys at Dinapore, however, does not admit of defence or excuse.

Dinapore was a military station, ten miles west of Patna, and was the capital of the province of Behar inhabited by a turbulent population, numbering 300,000, a large proportion of whom were Mohammedans. There could be no security in the province until the Dinapore regiments were disarmed. Nothing would have been easier. In the middle of July, the 5th Foot, just landed from Mauritius, and half the 37th Foot were on their way up the Ganges. On their arrival at Dinapore these might have been landed, and, in conjunction with the 10th Foot, every native might have been disarmed in an hour. But Lord Canning left it to General Lloyd to say if the regiments should be disarmed, and General Lloyd had faith in the Sepoys. Moreover, Lord Canning refused to allow the 5th to land for an hour at Dinapore. The consequence of throwing the responsibility on Lloyd, and of refusing to detain the 5th, was very serious. General Lloyd thought it would be enough to take away from the Sepoys the percussion caps. This half-measure was executed on the 25th of July, just when Havelock was preparing to spring into Oude. The Sepoys murmured, threatened, but for the moment were quieted, and the general, thinking all over, went to lunch on board a steamer. Suddenly shots were heard. It appeared that when the Sepoys were ordered to deliver up the caps in their pouches, they fired; thereupon the 10th marched upon their lines and opened fire. The Sepoys at once decamped; some ran to the Ganges and tried to cross, but a sharp fire from a steamer sank their boats. The greater part made off, unpursued, towards Arrah. Their enterprise was not easy; they had the Sone to cross. A quick pursuit would have found them seeking boats on its right bank. No pursuit was made for three days, and in that time they had crossed the river and entered Arrah. Kour Singh, a large landowner, a man who exhibited a gun at the Great Exhibition in 1851, joined the mutineers, supplied boats, counsel, leadership. They marched on Arrah, intending to plunder the treasury, and crossing the Ganges at Buxar, enter Oude. They were frustrated by the bravery of some ten civilians and fifty Sikhs, who held the place with dauntless resolution until they were splendidly relieved by Major Vincent Eyre.

The effects of the Dinapore mutiny were felt all over Behar. The 12th Irregulars mutinied, cutting off the heads of Major and Mrs. Holmes; two companies of Sepoys at Hazareebagh broke out and burnt the station; magistrates and Europeans fled in all directions, and weeks elapsed, and a large display of force had to be made, before order was restored. Moreover, Kour Singh and the broken mutineers went to Nagode and raised the 50th Native Infantry; and several other regiments and parts of regiments took fire and exploded. These were the causes that arrested the march of reinforcements to Havelock, and frustrated his splendid efforts to reach Lucknow.

To return to Delhi, the reader will remember that at the beginning of July reinforcements from the Punjab had raised the British army before that place to 6,600 men. At the same time, however, five native regiments and a battery of artillery arrived on the left bank of the Jumna opposite Delhi from Rohilcund. This added upwards of 4,000 fresh men to the rebel army. With them came Mohamed Bukt Khan from Bareilly, formerly a subahdar of artillery, now a general of brigade, and, soon after his arrival, Commander-in-Chief of the Sepoy army. When they came up, the swollen river had broken the bridge of boats, which was not re-established for two days. Our forces were so few that we were compelled to look on while the enemy performed this operation at leisure. In the beginning of July the new arrivals so raised the spirits of the mutineers that they engaged in several desperate actions. Their first operation was daring, and a dangerous one for us. The road to the Punjab, so vital to our safety, was entirely guarded by native troops, perfectly trustworthy, but in weak detachments, placed here and there to keep the road clear of marauders. It was along this road that our sick and wounded were sent to Umballa, and that our convoys of treasure and ammunition passed to the camp. The Sepoys, of course, knew this, and were moderately well informed of the goings and comings of convoys. They had heard that a quantity of treasure was coming down, and that a number of sick were going up; they resolved to capture the first and to murder the second. So on the 3rd about 6,000 men of all arms, with several guns, moved out of the Lahore Gate, and went round our right. They were not unseen. All night they marched, making for Alipore, one march in the rear of our camp. Here they drove off the Sikh guard, but found neither sick nor treasure; the former had passed on the 2nd, the latter, delayed on the road, had not come up. The Sepoys, instead of pushing for Kurnaul, as they might have done, countermarched on Delhi. Major Coke, with 1,100 men and 12 guns, had been sent out to intercept them. Hodson and his horse had been on the look-out, and gave Coke ample information. But although our troops got within cannon-shot, and engaged the enemy, they did little except capture an ammunition waggon and a store cart, and recover the plunder of Alipore. In order to check these attacks on our line of communications, it was resolved to blow up all the bridges over the canal except one, and also to destroy part of an aqueduct, one of the mighty works of the former Mohammedan rulers of Delhi. These enterprises were effected during the next week, and thus greater safety was secured for the rear, and the country folk were able to bring provisions into our markets without danger from the Sepoys.

On the day after the attack on Alipore General Barnard sickened of cholera, and by night he was dead. Himself a distinguished soldier, and the son of a more distinguished soldier, Sir Andrew Barnard, he had found himself in a situation unsuited to his abilities; for having served in the Crimea as chief of the staff, he had only arrived in India a few months before the mutiny broke out. He was greatly respected and beloved in camp, but it must be owned he was hardly fit for the work in hand. He was succeeded by a seniority general of no mark, who in turn fell ill, and going off on sick leave, left Brigadier Archdale Wilson in command of the troops before Delhi.

On the 9th of July the newly-arrived Sepoys again sought to distinguish themselves by an assault upon our lines. Among the troops from Bareilly which had just entered Delhi were the troopers of the 8th Irregulars. A wing of the 9th was in our camp, and many men in it had friends in the mutinous 8th. The incidents of the day showed that these two regiments were in communication. "About ten o'clock in the morning," writes Captain Norman, "the insurgents appeared to be increasing in numbers in the suburbs on our right, when suddenly a body of cavalry emerged from cover on the extreme right of our right flank, and charged into camp.... The troop of Carabineers, all very young, most of them untrained soldiers, and only thirty-two in number of all ranks, turned and broke, save the officer and two or three men, who nobly stood. Lieutenant Hills, commanding the guns, seeing the cavalry come on unopposed, alone charged the head of the horsemen, to give his guns time to unlimber, and cut down one or two of the sowars, while the main body of horsemen riding over and past the guns, followed up the Carabineers, and a confused mass of horsemen came streaming in at the right of the camp. Major Tombs, whose tent was on the right, had heard the first alarm, and, calling for his horse to be brought after him, walked towards the picket just as the cavalry came on. He was just in time to see his gallant subaltern down on the ground, with one of the enemy's sowars ready to kill him. From a distance of thirty yards he fired with his revolver, and dropped Hills's opponent. Hills got up and engaged a man on foot, who was cut down by Tombs, after Hills had received a severe sabre-cut on the head. Meanwhile great confusion had been caused by the inroad of the sowars, most of whom made for the guns of the native troop of horse artillery, which was on the right of the camp, calling on the men to join them. The native horse artillerymen, however, behaved admirably, and called to Major Olpherts' European troop, which was then unlimbered close by, to fire through them at the mutineers. The latter, however, managed to secure and carry off some horses, and several followers were cut down in camp. Captain Fagan, of the artillery, rushing out of his tent, got together a few men, and followed up some of the sowars, who were then endeavouring to get away, and killed fifteen of them. More were killed by some men of the 1st Brigade, and all were driven out of the camp, some escaping by a bridge over the canal-cut in our rear. It is estimated that not more than 100 sowars were engaged in this enterprise, and about thirty-five were killed, including a native officer. All this time the cannonade from the city, and from many field-guns outside, raged fast and furious, and a heavy fire of musketry was kept up upon our batteries, and on the Subzee Mundi pickets from the enclosures and gardens of the suburbs. A column was therefore formed to dislodge them, consisting of Major Scott's horse battery, the available men of the 8th and 61st Foot and 4th Sikh Infantry—in all about 700 infantry, and six guns, reinforced en route by the headquarters and two companies of the 60th Rifles, under Lieutenant-Colonel J. Jones; the infantry brigade being commanded by Brigadier W. Jones, C.B., and Brigadier-General Chamberlain directing the whole. As this column swept up through the Subzee Mundi, Major Reid was instructed to move down and co-operate with such infantry as could be spared from the main picket. The insurgents were cleared out of the gardens without difficulty, though the denseness of the vegetation rendered the mere operation of passing through them a work of time. At some of the serais, however, a very obstinate resistance was made, and the insurgents were not dislodged without considerable loss. Eventually everything was effected that was desired, our success being greatly aided by the admirable and steady practice of Major Scott's battery under a heavy fire, eleven men being put hors de combat out of its small complement. By sunset the engagement was over, and the troops returned to camp, drenched through with rain, which, for several hours, had fallen at intervals with great violence. Our loss this day was one officer and 40 men killed, 8 officers and 163 men wounded, 11 men missing."

Not content with the result of the 9th, the mutineers, on the 14th, renewed the attack. They moved, as usual, out of the Lahore Gate, and made for the Subzee Mundi. The position on this side, however, had been strengthened greatly since the inroad of the troopers on the 9th, and the Sepoys were easily repelled. The fight became one of artillery and musketry, each party availing itself of good cover. At length we had to put an end to it in the usual way. Brigadier Chamberlain formed a column, and led them against the enemy—literally so; for our troops, not liking the look of a wall lined with Sepoys, stopped short, instead of charging at it. Thereupon Chamberlain, spurring his horse, leaped clean over the wall into the midst of the enemy, daring his own men to follow. They did, but Chamberlain got hit in the shoulder. Once on the move, our infantry kept the Sepoys going, and drove them from garden to garden and house to house up to the walls of Delhi. For this they paid heavily; for when they began to retire, the Sepoys took heart, and, issuing out, opened with musketry and grape. Luckily, Hodson, who had seen the column go in, followed with a few of his horse, and arrived at the moment of peril. Aided by some officers and the boldest spirits among the European and Guide Infantry, he stopped the enemy's cavalry, and then retired fighting, until two guns came up, and soon "drove the last living rebel into his pandemonium," as they called Delhi in those days. But we lost 15 killed, and had 150 wounded.

During the remainder of July there were two more actions. The Jhansi regiments entered Delhi on the 16th; our spies in the city warned the general of an impending attack; and on the 18th the fresh regiments began what they boasted should be a four days' fight. There was nothing in the combat to distinguish it from so many of its predecessors. The alarm sounded, our troops turned out; the Sepoys, swarming among the ruins about the Subzee Mundi, retired as soon as they were assailed, and our men followed them as far as prudence dictated, and then drew off. The Sepoys did not keep their promise. One day's fighting seemed to have satisfied them. On the 23rd they sallied from the Cashmere Gate, and tried to establish a battery near the house called Ludlow Castle; but they were sharply assailed by a force under Brigadier Showers, and driven into the city. Unfortunately, in trying to take their guns, the troops got too near the walls, and suffered accordingly. No other fighting of moment occurred for the rest of the month; but in the meantime there had been hot work in the Punjab.

General Wilson, looking for troops from the Punjab, had changed materially the system of warfare before Delhi. He resolved to make more secure the position on the ridge, and connected the isolated batteries with a continuous line of breast-works. He determined to confine himself as much as possible to a system of resistance, and not give the enemy the opportunities he appeared to covet of luring our columns under the fire of the walls. He established a system of reliefs, so that part of the force got some rest while the bulk was on duty. The result was that the discipline of the troops, which had been growing somewhat slack, was rendered more rigorous, and a higher tone was imparted to the whole body. Rest and food, at stated times, soon improved the health of the army. The great point was to stand fast until the remaining troops which could be spared from the Punjab should arrive. We have now to tell what detained them.

To all suggestions that the siege of Delhi should be abandoned, Sir John Lawrence had offered instant and peremptory resistance. He would rather have restored the Peshawur valley to the Afghans than have abandoned Delhi. As a measure of despair he had even contemplated and discussed the surrender of the valley. His wisest counsellors were vehemently opposed to the latter move; they would have preferred the raising of the siege. Happily neither measure was forced upon him. He was burdened with a vast responsibility, for by severing the electric wires the Sepoys had made him Governor-General of the Punjab and the North-West above Agra. Aided by men like Montgomery, and Edwardes, and Nicholson—supported by such unflinching lieutenants as Frederick Cooper, Reynell Taylor, Spankie, Barnes, and Forsyth—he was able to quell his own mutineers, and pour down on Delhi those reinforcements which enabled Wilson to take it by storm.

That brilliant invention, the movable column, had not been idle during the month of July. There were five regiments of infantry and two of cavalry still in arms. Six of these regiments were in stations where there was not a single European soldier. The problem was how to get their arms. It was resolved first to deal with the 58th Native Infantry at Rawul Pindee and the 14th at Jhelum. He had little difficulty with the 58th. At first they seemed inclined to resist, but soon yielded. The two companies of the 14th, however, fled. They were pursued by mounted Punjabees, and those that escaped were brought in by the villagers. At Jhelum there was a battle. Sir John had sent 260 of the 24th Foot, three guns, and 150 police, all under Colonel Ellice, to disarm the 14th. These were followed by 700 Mooltanees, partly mounted, and the two bodies joined on the 6th. On the 7th Ellice sent part of the Mooltanee horse to guard the river, and with the rest marched towards the station. The 14th had been called under arms, and as soon as they saw the Europeans moving towards them, they began to load. Then there was a dropping fire. Presently the Sepoys broke, the Mooltanees charged, and did some execution, but the mutineers got into their quarters, and defied the horse. The Mooltanee foot came up. These were beaten off. The guns arrived, and opened. The Sepoys, well sheltered, would not budge. Colonel Ellice then arrived with the 24th Foot, and forming a small column, carried the lines with the bayonet. Ellice being wounded at the head of his men, Gerard took command. The Sepoys fled into a fortified village and stoutly resisted every onset. When night fell the troops were obliged to retire, leaving behind a howitzer, which was taken by the enemy. In the night the mutineers retreated, but did not escape. Out of 500 men only fifty were not "accounted for." No fewer than 150 fell in action, 180 were captured by the police, and 120, who reached Cashmere, were surrendered. But we suffered a loss of 44 killed, and 109 wounded, of whom one-half were Europeans.

Nor was this the worst loss. There were two native regiments at Sealkote—a few score miles distant east of the Chenab. They had long been suspected. They might have been disarmed in May, when there were European troops in the station. Brigadier Brind, the commandant, a brave old officer, remonstrated against the withdrawal of the 52nd Foot and Bourchier's European battery to form the movable column. He did not like to be left with only Hindostanee troops. "He was requested," says Mr. Montgomery, "to remove the cause of alarm by disarming them. He did not see his way to do this, and the column marched on." Sir John Lawrence had directed the ladies of the station and the soldiers' wives and children to be sent to Lahore. The latter were marched to Lahore under escort; several of the former remained. Brigadier Brind kept up a show of confidence in the 46th Native Infantry and the wing of the 9th Cavalry in the station; but he knew they were mutinous in spirit. The wonder was they had not gone before. Perhaps they waited for a signal from Delhi, and there is some evidence that the signal reached the station simultaneously with the news of the fight at Jhelum on the 7th. Be that as it may, on the 9th all the native troops mutinied. The officers, roused from sleep, mounted and rode among the men, but found remonstrance useless. They all made for an old fort, which Tej Singh, a Sikh chief, had placed at their disposal. But only some escaped.

Nor was this all. The movable column was at Amritsir. Here were the 59th Native Infantry. They had shown no symptoms of disaffection; but on the 8th General Nicholson heard of the fight at Jhelum. He saw at once the peril of the moment, and the duty. On the 9th he disarmed the 59th. It was only done just in time. On the evening of that day in came a messenger from Lahore, telling of the mutiny at Sealkote, and directing Nicholson to march on Gordaspore and intercept the Sealkote men. Nicholson did not hesitate. Disarming and dismounting the men of the 9th Cavalry, who were at Amritsir, he set out on the night of the 10th for Gordaspore, and by daylight he had made twenty-six miles. On the 12th, certain information came that the mutineers had crossed the Ravee at Trimmoo Ghaut, a ferry on the river. Nicholson moved out at once, and by noon sighted the rebel vedettes, men of the 9th Cavalry. The whole had not got over, and some were still crossing. Covering his front with mounted Punjabee levies, mere recruits for Hodson's Horse, Nicholson moved up his guns and infantry. The Sepoys were behind a strip of deep water, passable only by a bridge. In their rear was the Ravee, growing wider and deeper every hour, for the snows were melting in the hills, and swelling all the streams. As Bourchier's guns went over the bridge, down came the men of the 9th at the charge; the levies fled; the Sepoy skirmishers ran up and opened a steady fire. But the ugly symptoms soon vanished. The Sepoys had no guns. They were not soldiers who could stand against the 52nd. In twenty minutes grapeshot, shrapnel, and rifle-balls silenced the fire of the rebel line. In half-an-hour the mutineers were in retreat, leaving three or four hundred killed and wounded on the field. Nicholson had no dragoons, or there the business would have ended. He caused his few Sikhs to pursue, and these captured all the baggage and stores which the enemy had brought to the left bank. In the river there was an island. To cross that night was impossible. In the night the river rose and caught the rebels in a trap. On the 11th they had been able to ford the stream; on the 13th it had risen several feet. The dawn found the enemy prisoners, with the swift flood of the Ravee rolling around them, and a relentless foe preparing the means of destroying them. Three days passed before boats could be procured. On the 16th all was ready. Covered by the fire of seven guns on the other bank, and headed by Nicholson, the 52nd swept on in line, and in a few minutes the mutineers went in a crowd to the rear. A few resolute men died around the gun; others were overtaken in fight and slain; a mob ran to the end of the island, and those who escaped the bayonet, and swam over the river, were captured by the villagers. Not more than a hundred got away into Cashmere, and these we compelled the Maharajah to surrender. Thus did John Nicholson break in pieces this horde of mutineers, and save the Punjab between the Jhelum and the Sutlej. On the 22nd the column was again at Amritsir. Three days afterwards it was again on the march, en route for Delhi, in earnest this time, for now the Punjab had been made secure by the disarming of nearly every Hindostanee regiment, and the raising of new levies among the Punjabees.

But there were still days of peril between the Sutlej and the Indus, and over the Indus; and before carrying the reader with us to Delhi, to witness the final strife there, it will be as well to note in passing the tragic incidents at Lahore and Peshawur.

The disarmed Hindostanees at Meean Meer, near Lahore, writhed under the degradation which it had been so necessary to inflict upon them. Frequent reports reached the brigadier that one or more of the regiments intended to break out and run away, but day after day passed, and there were no signs, and only the usual precautions were taken. At length, however, the 26th Native Infantry tried the experiment, and their fate proved an example to discourage the other regiments. On the 30th of July, at mid-day, they broke out. They fled up the left bank of the Ravee. Fortunately, the deputy-commissioner at Amritsir was Mr. Frederick Cooper. As soon as he heard of the flight of the 26th, he got together some Punjabee horse and foot, and after a severe march, struck the trail of the mutineers. He found them in sorry plight. They had swum the river or floated over on pieces of wood, and were lodged on an island about a mile from the shore. By stratagem he got them all from the island, and had them secured with cords. Then they were escorted to the police-station at Ujnalla, six miles distant, and before they arrived the Sikh infantry came up. There were 282 prisoners. Sending his Hindostanee troopers back to Amritsir, Mr. Cooper prepared to execute the whole. On the 1st of August they were led out in batches of ten; their names were taken down; they were marched to the place of execution. Two hundred and thirty-seven were so executed, and forty-five were found dead in the gaol. All the bodies were thrown into a dry well by men of the lowest caste, and Cooper wrote, "there is a well at Cawnpore, but there is also a well at Ujnalla." To read of this execution in cold blood makes one shudder; but those who have studied the state of the Punjab at that moment will agree with Mr. Montgomery, that the punishment so sternly inflicted by Mr. Cooper was "just and necessary." Sir John Lawrence congratulated him on his success, though privately acknowledging that his despatch was "nauseous." Mr. Montgomery wrote at the time—"All honour to you for what you have done; and right well you did it;" and in 1859 solemnly reviewed and justified the execution. Lord Canning approved.

The drama at Peshawur was equally serious and bloody. In the middle of August there came a holy man, who sat himself down at the mouth of the Khyber Pass, hoisted the green flag, and preached what Colonel Edwardes calls a "crescentade." "The most evident restlessness," writes Colonel Edwardes, in his report, "pervaded the disarmed regiments; arms were said to be finding their way into the lines in spite of all precautions, and symptoms of an organised rise began to appear; General Cotton, as usual, took the initiative. On the morning of the 28th of August he caused the lines of every native regiment to be simultaneously searched, the Sepoys being moved out into tents for that purpose; swords, hatchets, muskets, pistols, bayonets, powder, ball, and caps, were found stowed away in roofs, and floors, and bedding, and even drains; and, exasperated by the discovery of their plans, and by the taunts of the newly-raised Afridi regiments, who were carrying out the search, the 51st Native Infantry rushed upon the piled arms of the 18th Punjab Infantry, and sent messengers to all the other Hindostanee regiments, to tell them of the rise. For a few minutes a desperate struggle ensued; the 51st Native Infantry had been one of the finest corps in the service, and they took the new Irregulars altogether by surprise. They got possession of several stand of arms, and used them well. Captain Bartlett and the other officers were overpowered by numbers, and driven into a tank. But soon the Afridi soldiers seized their arms, and then began that memorable fusilade which commenced on the parade ground at Peshawur and ended at Jumrood. General Cotton's military arrangements in the cantonment were perfect for meeting such emergencies—troops, horse and foot, were rapidly under arms and in pursuit of the mutineers. Every civil officer turned out with his posse comitatus of levies or police, and in a quarter of an hour the whole country was covered with the chase." By these means the regiment was in thirty-six hours "accounted for." It was 871 strong. The example sufficed. The disarmed regiments were paralysed by the sudden retribution. Peshawur was stronger than ever.

At the beginning of August it had been resolved to make a supreme effort to dispose of Delhi. Nicholson's column, growing stronger at every step, had already started from Amritsir. A first-class siege train was prepared in the arsenals of Philour and Ferozepore. It consisted of four 10-inch mortars, six 24-pounders, eight 18-pounders, and four 8-inch howitzers, with ample supplies of ammunition. Thus there were en route for Delhi a powerful column and a splendid siege train. General Wilson's plan meanwhile was to act on the defensive. He therefore confined himself to repelling attacks on our position, and to protecting his communications with Kurnaul. Twice or thrice the enemy tried to bridge the waterways covering the flank of the Great Road, and so get to Alipore, and clutch at convoys. But they failed. Three or four times during the month of August they assailed the ridge, but their failures were costly to them. On the 7th one of their magazines blew up, and it is said that 500 men perished in the explosion. On the 8th they again tried to plant a battery at the house called Ludlow Castle, opposite our left front. General Wilson resolved to have it. At four in the morning of the 12th Brigadier Showers led a strong column of infantry down from the ridge, and so well did he manage that he surprised the enemy, overpowered him, killed several hundred, and captured and brought off four guns. On the 13th of August Nicholson's column marched into camp. It consisted of the 52nd Foot, half the 61st Foot, the 2nd Punjab Infantry, and Bourchier's battery. There were on the way the 4th Punjab Infantry, half the 1st Belooch Battalion from Scinde, three companies of the 8th Foot, and several score recruits. Beside these, the general had to wait for the siege train. Sir John Lawrence could do no more. These were the last batches of troops he could spare. They mustered about 4,200 men, of whom 1,300 were Europeans.

In the meantime, alarmed by news of the coming siege-train, the mutineers sent out 6,000 men and 16 guns, under Bukt Khan, of Rohilcund, to capture the train. Hearing this, Nicholson girded himself up for a stroke at them. They moved out on the 24th; he started on the 25th, with 1,600 infantry, 500 horses, and 16 guns. The enemy had marched to Nujuffghur by the Rhotuck road. The Sepoy position consisted of a serai in their left centre, where they had four guns; a village in rear on each flank; a third village, and the town of Nujuffghur. In their rear ran a canal, crossed by a single bridge, over which they had come from Delhi. Nicholson determined to carry the serai, thus breaking the left centre of the line; then swinging round his right, to sweep the enemy's line of guns, and, if possible, cut him off from the bridge. This plan was energetically carried out. Detaching the 1st Punjab Infantry, under Lieutenant Lumsden, to drive the enemy out of Nujuffghur, and Blunt to watch the left, Nicholson arrayed the 1st Bengal Fusiliers, the 61st Foot, and the 2nd Punjabees against the serai. There was a crash of musketry, down came the bayonets, and with a fierce cheer on dashed the line. The Sepoys fought well, and some crossed bayonets with our men; yet they could not stand against the impetuous onset, and the serai and guns were won. Changing his front, Nicholson now turned the line of the remaining guns of the enemy, and advanced. The Sepoys, although strongly posted, seeing the bridge in danger, made for it at full speed, and crowded over, pursued by the fire of our artillery. They succeeded in getting away with three guns, leaving thirteen in our possession, captured on the field. We also took their camp and baggage, horses and camels and seventeen full waggons of ammunition. In the meantime Lumsden had cleared the rebels out of Nujuffghur, and was moving up to join the main body, when he was ordered to drive a band of Sepoys out of a village into which they had thrown themselves when cut off from the bridge. Having no retreat, these men fought desperately. The 61st were sent up, but these, too, suffered heavily before the village was taken. Halting near the bridge, the sappers blew it up—an important service—and the troops, who had been afoot all day, slept on the ground without food. By such an exploit did Nicholson signalise his arrival before Delhi.

The fate of Delhi was drawing nigh. The old king, after he learned the truth—a long time kept from him—about the battle of Nujuffghur, suffered alike from impotent anger and impotent despair. He felt that we must win; and he felt rightly. The last reinforcements came up in the first week of September, and with them the siege train. There was now no time to lose. Cholera and ague were rife in our camp. Not only the malaria from the swamps, but the fetid odours from dead cattle were more fatal than the shot of the enemy. Out of 11,000 men, more than a fourth were sick. Everything—the feverish state of the Punjab, the unhealthiness of the camp—made it imperative on General Wilson to take Delhi. He had powerful assistants. Baird Smith was there to direct the engineering operations; Nicholson to impel and guide; Hodson and Chamberlain and Norman to apply the spur, if it were needed. At the back of all, the commanding voice of Sir John Lawrence could be heard from the Punjab. Delhi must be taken out of hand. Thus the month of August closed, and September began the fourth of the mutiny and the third of the siege. The crowning act is a little story by itself, and must have a separate chapter.

HOOSEINABAD GARDENS AND TOMB OF ZANA ALI, LUCKNOW. (From a Photograph by Frith & Co., Reigate.)