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AN UNRECORDED CHAPTER 
 
 OF THE 
 
 INDIAN MUTINY. 
 
 BEING THE PERSONAL REMINISCENCES OF 
 
 REGINALD G. WI LBERFORCE, 
 
 LATE 52ND LIGHT INFANTRY. 
 
 COMPILED FROM A DIARY AND LETTERS 
 WRITTEN ON THE SPOT. 
 
 
 J 1 J J i J J i J J J J*J J 
 
 WITH ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 LONDON : 
 JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET. 
 
 1894. 
 
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 LONDON : 
 BRADBURY, AGNEW, & CO. LD., PRINTERS, WHITEFRIARS. 
 
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 TO THE 
 
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 OF 
 
 Brigadier-General 
 
 JOHN NICHOLSON. 
 
 513123 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 No introduction to this little account 
 of what I saw of the great Sepoy Mutiny 
 of 1857 can De more appropriate than a 
 short account of the glorious regiment 
 with which I was permitted to serve. 
 The 52nd Light Infantry was the first 
 regiment in the English army that was 
 distinguished from other regiments by 
 the affix of " Light Infantry." 1 The 
 discipline of the regiment was admi- 
 
 1 Sir John Moore, who in 1801 became Colonel of the 
 regiment, writes in 1805, on his being made K.C.B., "As 
 a Knight of the Bath I am entitled to supporters. I have 
 chosen a Light Infantry soldier for one — being Colonel of 
 the First Light Infantry Regiment." 
 
viii Preface. 
 
 rable, though it was undoubtedly severe. 
 Inaugurated as it was by that distin- 
 guished soldier, General Sir John Moore r 
 of whom it is said " that his life was 
 spent among the troops," it had been 
 continued and perfected throughout the 
 long struggle in the Peninsula, in which 
 campaign the 52nd bore such a distin- 
 guished part, and from thence this dis- 
 cipline was brought down to the day I 
 joined the regiment. Part of this dis- 
 cipline was the annual training ; officers 
 below the rank of captain, and privates r 
 had to go through the entire drill system, 
 beginning with the goose-step, once a 
 year. It was never considered that a 
 man knew his drill, no matter how long 
 he might have been in the regiment. 
 The captains had to go through a certain 
 amount of this annual training, but they 
 were supposed to know the very ele- 
 
Preface. ix 
 
 mentary parts, except indeed they had 
 come from another regiment. 1 Another 
 rule was that no subaltern under a year's 
 standing at head-quarters was allowed to 
 speak or laugh loudly at mess. 2 
 
 The exclusiveness of the regiment was 
 shown by a rule that no one could be 
 made an honorary member of the mess r 
 he might be a mess guest, but not an 
 honorary member ; the only exception to 
 this rule was that all officers past or 
 present of the 43rd Light Infantry and 
 the Rifle Brigade were honorary members 
 of our mess, as we were of theirs. There 
 was a feeling in the regiment common to 
 both officers and men, not that they were 
 
 1 A captain who had exchanged to us from the 
 " Guards," and who had been all through the Crimean 
 War, joined the regiment at Lucknow — he was sent to 
 " goose-step." 
 
 2 At the mess table the same formalities in addressing 
 a senior that characterised the parade ground had to be 
 observed. 
 
x Preface 
 
 intrinsically better than other regiments, 
 but that they were guardians of an 
 heritage of fame such as no other regi- 
 ment possessed, 1 the glories earned on 
 many a hard-fought field culminating in 
 their share of the great victory of Water- 
 loo. 2 So highly did we all esteem the 
 honour of the regiment that we cheer- 
 fully submitted to the severe discipline, 
 so that if the time of trial should come, 
 we might be found worthy successors of 
 those men who had left their laurels in 
 our keeping. How well the character 
 of the regiment had been maintained 
 through all the years of peace that had 
 elapsed since it was last in action 3 can be 
 
 1 The " Historical Record of the 52nd Light Infantry," 
 by Captain Moorsom (Bentley, i860), gives a full account 
 of the doings of the regiment. 
 
 2 The charge on the Young Guard of France is the 
 subject of a picture which adorns the head of the stair- 
 case of the Junior United Service Club. 
 
 3 At Waterloo. 
 
Preface. xi 
 
 gathered from what the Commander-in- 
 Chief in India, the Honourable George 
 Anson, said in 1856. After inspecting 
 the regiment he writes: " November 21, 
 1856. — This battalion under Colonel 
 Campbell manifests all those superior 
 qualifications for which it has been 
 highly distinguished, in peace and war, 
 throughout the present century." 
 
 In common with others, I was in- 
 tensely proud of my regiment. I can 
 never forget the words of the late Duke 
 of Richmond, himself an old officer of 
 the 52nd. In 1856, shortly after I had 
 been transferred to the 52nd by Lord 
 Hardinge, 1 then Commander-in-Chief, I 
 was at Gordon Castle. While there the 
 
 1 Lord Hardinge wrote to my father, " If you do not 
 object to your son going out to India, I have an oppor- 
 tunity of transferring him from the 9th Regiment to the 
 52nd Light Infantry, quite the best regiment in the 
 service." 
 
xii Preface. 
 
 old Duke said to me, " Always remember, 
 in everything you do, that you are an 
 officer of the most illustrious regiment 
 in the English army," and I still recall 
 the pride that I felt when I, an ensign 
 who had not passed his drill, was given 
 just before we left Delhi, on account of 
 the lack of officers, the temporary com- 
 mand of one of the companies of the 
 regiment. 
 
 There were no special correspondents 
 with the Moveable Column of the Pun- 
 jaub, and though I do not pretend to 
 give a full account of all John Nichol- 
 son's marvellous performances, yet any 
 episode in the life of this great man, to 
 whose memory justice has never been 
 fully done, cannot fail to be of interest. 
 It will be remembered that he was one of 
 the men selected by Lord Dalhousie to 
 settle the Punjaub. 
 
Preface. xiii 
 
 This little book does not aim at giving 
 a full history even of the Moveable 
 Column, far less of the great Mutiny 
 itself. The events recorded in it are 
 taken from a diary, supplemented by a 
 number of letters written at the time to 
 my father, which letters he carefully 
 preserved. All I have attempted to do 
 is to give an account of those stirring 
 days, and of some of the scenes in which 
 I was an actor — not as history, but as 
 they presented themselves to the mind of 
 a boy of only nineteen years old. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 PAGE 
 Government House — Veiled Warnings — Masonic Story — 
 
 En route to join — The Fifty-second — Wetting the 
 
 Colours — A prostrate Ensign — Round the Guards — 
 
 Mutiny at Meerut — Precautions at Sealkote — Brigadier 
 
 v. Colonel — Misplaced Confidence — A Night Ride — 
 
 Unpleasant Companions — We leave our Plate, but take 
 
 our Claret I — 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 A Dust Storm changes order of march — The Force known 
 as the Moveable Column — Letters to my Father — 
 Gossip of the time — John Nicholson — His Appearance — 
 His Attendants — His Sword — His Worshippers — Their 
 Adoration — How he punished them — His Sense of 
 Duty — The Punishment of Mutiny — His Farsightedness 
 detects Plots — His Resolution defeats them — His Mark 
 — No Courts-Martial — At full gallop detects Sepoy — 
 Mutineers meet death with equanimity — A young Officer 
 — His idea of Duty — Friendly Afghans — Their contempt 
 of Sepoys — Caste made for Dogs .... 18 — 48 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 Marching Orders — Through the Night on a Pony — Bread 
 for Breakfast — Sleep for Dinner — The Mutineers fire 
 and charge — We receive them — Our Formation — Single 
 Combat — The great Swordsman — We cross Bayonets — 
 
xvi Contents. 
 
 PAGE 
 The Mutineers repulsed — A great Thirst — Tepid Water — 
 
 Prisoners parade — After the Fight — Our Plate sunk — 
 
 A Funeral — Cross the Ravee — Advance on Mutineers — 
 
 We charge — A narrow Escape — A Miss — A Hit — All 
 
 depends on Delhi ....... 49 — 74 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 Letter on the March — The mild Hindoo — A free Passage — 
 Carrying the Colours in a Bullock Cart — Marching 
 and Music— Coffee Shop and Songs —Merrily through 
 the Night— The Heat of the Day— A Duty Ride after 
 Bullocks — Where we fail others succeed —A late Dinner 
 — Cooks up a Tree — A night Thief — Shooting Episode — 
 A Challenge — " If he bungles " — We cross a Bridge — 
 The Elephants decline — The Bridge breaks, but all get 
 over — We approach Delhi — Strength of our Force — 
 Disastrous delay 75 — 100 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Before the City — Fatalism combined with pluck — A lucky 
 Escape — Lighting a Cigar — An exposed Position — 
 Sir Theophilus Metcalfe remains at his post — The 
 Man on the Road — The Red Devil in want of Food — 
 The Sword breaks — They ride away — Why he was 
 saved 101 — 114 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 On Picket — Visitors from Delhi — The sole Survivor — 
 Fighting in hope of succour from Meerut — Atrocities in 
 Delhi — Peshawur Gaol Birds — Outbreak of Cholera — 
 The first case —Ensigns on Picket — A Quiet Day — A Run 
 for it — On the rear Picket — Vultures and Adjutants — 
 Our Spiritual Helpers in the Field— The Jesuit Priest 
 
Contents. xvii 
 
 PAGE 
 
 amongst the Bullets— The Cholera Tent—" No Com- 
 plaints " — Waiting for the Guns — The first Night in the 
 Trenches — The Mosque Picket — A Game of Cards — 
 Whistling Jacks — Lookout! .... 115 — 143 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 A solemn Service rudely interrupted — The Council of War — 
 Plan of Attack — Preparation for the Assault — Fore- 
 thought—Parade—A Slow March towards the Gate— A 
 Storm of Fire on the road — Inside the Cashmere Gate — 
 A Feu de joie— The Water Bastion — Onwards — A Gun 
 in Position— The 52nd never retire without Orders — 
 The Rear Guard in the Chandi Chouk — The Begum's 
 Bagh— Back to the Church — The Indecision of our 
 Leaders— The College Picket— A disturbed Night- 
 Official Record of Killed and Wounded . . 144—173 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 A Private Soldier tries Lotos eating — Success of the Experi- 
 ment — The Day of Retribution — Assault on a Picket — 
 Fiendish Sepoys — Lunch under fire — Mutton in the 
 Street — A defended House — Where are the Men? — 
 Under the Veil— Run on the Bank — A chance Shot — 
 Reported dead — Horrors of the Night— Her Majesty's 
 Gun — Off with his Head — False Alarms — The Liquor 
 Stores broken into — A real Murderer almost escapes — 
 Quarters in the Magazine— Al fresco Tubs — Youthful 
 Vandalism — Fortunately unsuccessful — Delhi fallen — 
 The Punjaub safe — John Nicholson's end — Outside, 
 anxiety — Inside, peace — Talks over Plans — The Men's 
 1 ' General " serves under Wilson ! — A Deed of Daring — 
 Nicholson and Sikhs — A great Soldier — A Master of 
 Men — Spirit of the Regiment — No Looting — Round 
 Nicholson's Grave — English, Pathans, Afghans pay 
 homage to the great General ► 174 — 217 
 
 b 
 
xviii Contents. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Necessary severity stamps out Mutiny — Rhumbeer's idea 
 of a Merciful Death — Invalided home — A Medical 
 Board — An alarming Apparition — Only a handful — Our 
 Colonel thanks the Regiment — Lord Clyde bids fare- 
 well—" God bless you all ! " . . . . 218—230 
 
 INDEX 231 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 The Cashmere Gate 
 
 Frontispiece 
 
 The Subzi Mundi and Little Mosque 
 
 Pickets To face p. 1 1 5 
 
 The Mosque 
 
 The Breach and Cashmere Gate 
 
 The Delhi Bank 
 
 The Jumma Musjid 
 
 The King's Palace 
 
 Nicholson's Grave 
 
 140 
 158 
 186 
 198 
 200 
 217 
 
> 1 
 
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 ..■,.,, , . . 
 
 J - j 3 > i J J J I . , , . 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " The sudden trumpet sounded as in a dream 
 To ears but half awaked, then one long roll 
 Of autumn thunder and the jousts began." 
 
 The Last Tournament. 
 
 January 23, 1857. — * n tne ear ty morn " 
 ing the good ship Bengal, of the Peninsu- 
 lar and Oriental Company, dropped her 
 anchor outside Fort William at Calcutta. 
 Her passengers, of whom I was one, 
 soon landed, and on my nineteenth 
 birthday I found myself in the capital of 
 the land of the pagoda tree. I had come 
 out to India to join my regiment, the 
 52nd Light Infantry, who when I landed 
 were on the march from Lucknow to 
 Sealkote in the Punjaub. At the Great 
 t b 
 
t, I < < < < 
 
 , ■ < t * I . 
 
 2 Government House. [ch. i. 
 
 ' * • ■ '■ « < , 
 
 Eastern Hotel where I put up, I found 
 a brother ensign, and we agreed to go up 
 country together. Travelling in India 
 was not as simple in those days as it now 
 is, and route arrangements — laying the 
 dak, as it was termed — had, even on the 
 Grand Trunk Road, to be made some 
 days beforehand. The railway only went 
 some 120 miles from Calcutta, and from 
 the railway terminus carriages were 
 necessary. 
 
 During the few days I stayed in 
 Calcutta I dined at Government House 
 with Lord Canning, the then Governor- 
 General of India, to whom I had 
 letters of introduction. At that dinner 
 I met Stewart, who was head of the 
 Telegraph Department, and whose mar- 
 vellous escape from a tiger is so well 
 described in " The Old Shekarry." I 
 heard him telling Lord Canning of the 
 
ch. i.] Veiled Warnings. 3 
 
 mysterious night fires, of disaffected men, 
 of sinister language, of veiled warnings ; 
 at the time these words made little im- 
 pression upon me, but when, a few months 
 later, the Mutiny broke out, then the con- 
 versation I had listened to came back with 
 full force, and I saw the solution of what 
 then appeared mysterious. 
 
 In Calcutta I was a witness of a re- 
 markable scene. One day we heard a 
 great noise and shouting, and saw the 
 street filled with a motley crowd of 
 men of many nations. The reason of 
 the disturbance was soon disclosed : they 
 were pursuing a man, a sailor, who had 
 been detected, almost red-handed, in the 
 murder of a woman in one of the low 
 parts of the town ; the enraged crowd 
 were about to lynch the man, whom they 
 had overtaken just outside our windows, 
 when suddenly the culprit made a 
 
 B 2 
 
4 Masonic Story. [ch. i. 
 
 masonic sign ; it was immediately recog- 
 nized, a large number of men in the 
 crowd began shouldering their way to the 
 man, got to him, surrounded him, kept off 
 others, and finally, having got him away 
 in safety, handed him over to the police 
 to be tried and punished in the regular 
 way. 
 
 On January 27th we left Calcutta and 
 its mosquitoes behind us and started for 
 our journey up the country to Umballa, 
 where we expected to find the regiment. 
 Nothing sensational happened to us. We 
 went through the usual experiences of 
 those days : we had the horses who would 
 not start save for a straw fire under them, 
 and who then dashed off for their ten- 
 mile stage at top speed ; we met at the 
 dak bungalows, or staging houses, the 
 same urbane, smiling khitmagar, who in 
 answer to the usual question of " What 
 
ch. i.] En Route to Join. 5 
 
 can we have to eat? " rapidly ran through 
 every conceivable comestible, ending of 
 course with the inevitable fowl, whose 
 chase, capture and slaughter we regularly 
 witnessed. We stayed a day or two at 
 Benares to see the temples and the 
 monkeys, but, with this exception, we 
 made our way up country as quickly as 
 we could, passing Allahabad, Cawnpore, 
 where such ghastly scenes were soon 
 to be enacted, and the strong fortified 
 city of Delhi, the fortifications of which, 
 designed by skilful English engineers, 
 were as strong as science could make 
 them. 
 
 Close to Umballa we came upon a 
 detachment of our men with three subal- 
 terns, marching up country to join the 
 regiment. We stayed a night with them, 
 and the next day Wingfield and I re- 
 ported ourselves at head-quarters at 
 
6 The Fifty-Second. [ch. i. 
 
 Umballa. We found the regiment in 
 the midst of the excitement of a cricket 
 match against the Station ; the first day 
 had gone badly for the regiment, but the 
 Colonel declared that he was not going 
 to march if we were defeated, but would 
 stay on and play a return match. For 
 this there was no necessity ; in the second 
 innings the regiment was invincible, and 
 a grand score was made. On February 
 14 I joined the famous Fifty-second, 
 of whose deeds I had heard so much, 
 and to have been a member of which 
 is a distinction that I cherish to this 
 day. 
 
 In these fin de siecle days, when the old 
 " numbers " are things of the past, it is 
 something to be able to look back with 
 pride to the fact that I was a member of 
 a regiment of which Sir W. Napier, the 
 historian of the Peninsular War, writes 
 
ch. i.] Wetting the Colours. 7 
 
 as " a regiment never surpassed in 
 arms, since arms were first borne by 
 men." A regiment not distinguished 
 by a long territorial title, but known 
 on the deathless scroll of fame as 
 "the 52nd." 
 
 On February 19 the regiment left 
 Umballa en route for Sealkote. I took 
 my first turn with the Colours, which, 
 during the year 1857, m y brother ensigns 
 and I carried 1,268 miles. Of carrying 
 those colours I had a good deal more 
 than my fair share ; there were only four 
 ensigns altogether with the regiment, but 
 I never missed my turn from sickness or 
 any other cause. In those days a custom 
 prevailed in the army, and for aught I 
 know continues still, called " wetting the 
 colours ;" in plain English this means, 
 standing champagne to the mess on first 
 carrying the colours. As we were on the 
 
8 A Prostrate Ensign. [ch. l 
 
 march this was postponed until our 
 arrival at our destination. 
 
 In another regiment, one of these 
 " Colour " nights nearly ended in a Court- 
 martial ; the giver of the wine was 
 orderly officer of the day, and as such 
 had to visit the guards at night. He 
 left the mess apparently quite sober, but 
 the fresh air outside, acting on the wine 
 he had drunk, caused him to fall off his 
 pony, and he slept in the ditch by the road- 
 side. Some half hour after his Colonel, 
 a very big man, came by on his way to 
 bed ; he saw the prostrate ensign, and 
 after trying to awaken him, put him on 
 his shoulders and carried him round the 
 various guards, finally putting him to bed. 
 Next day the report had to be written, and 
 the report stated that the guards had not 
 been visited at night. About noon the 
 Adjutant appeared and requested his 
 
ch. i.] Round the Guards. 
 
 immediate attendance at the orderly 
 room. There the Colonel sat look- 
 ing very stern. " Mr. — — , I see your 
 report omits to mention that you visited 
 the guards last night. What is the 
 
 reason ? " hung his head ; he was 
 
 not going to lie, and say that he was 
 taken ill. The Colonel again spoke : " I 
 do not understand this, for I see that 
 the sergeants of the Quarter Guard and 
 the Prison Guard state that you turned 
 them out at 12.30 and 12.50 respectively. 
 How do you account for this ? " The 
 Colonel, after keeping up the mystery a 
 short time longer, dismissed the orderly 
 room, and walking home with the 
 youngster said, "You may thank your 
 stars that I found you and carried 
 you round last night. Don't do it 
 again." 
 
 On May 10th, the first news of the 
 
io Mutiny at Meerut [ch. i. 
 
 Mutiny reached us. We had of course 
 heard of disaffection among the Sepoys, 
 but news that mutiny had been successful 
 at the only station in India where the 
 English troops actually outnumbered the 
 Sepoys, appeared to us impossible ; but 
 next day the ill tidings were confirmed. 
 The Meerut troops had after looting the 
 station, marched with their drums beat- 
 ing and colours flying to Delhi, had 
 been joined there by the Sepoys in that 
 city, and had got possession of that 
 strongly fortified position. 
 
 On May 12th, in spite of the urgent, 
 nay forcible remonstrances of the Briga- 
 dier commanding the station of Sealkote, 
 Colonel Campbell, who commanded the 
 52nd, determined on a bold move. At 
 about 3 a.m. he despatched one company 
 of 100 men, to each of whom had been 
 served out 60 rounds of ammunition, 
 
ch. i.] Precautions at Sealkote. i i 
 
 to the artillery lines to seize the guns. 
 The reason of this determination may be 
 found in the fact, that at the military 
 station of Sealkote the disposition of the 
 troops was : at one end a troop of Horse 
 Artillery ; next, a Field Battery of Artillery 
 (these latter comprised a certain number 
 of natives) ; next, a Bengal Cavalry regi- 
 ment, irreverently styled " Ornamentals ' 
 on account of their blue and silver uni- 
 form ; then two native infantry regiments ; 
 and finally ourselves — that is to say, 
 some 3,000 armed natives were between 
 us and the Artillery. As we marched 
 along the lines in the darkness of early 
 morning, we could hear that the Sepoys 
 of the native regiments were lustily 
 singing ; no doubt, songs of rejoicing 
 over the deeds of their brothers, who 
 had seized defenceless Delhi, proclaimed 
 the Great Mogul, and inaugurated his 
 
1 2 Brigadier v. Colonel. [ch. i. 
 
 reign by brutal murders of English women 
 and children. 
 
 We brought the guns back with us. The 
 Horse Artillery were only too delighted to 
 come ; they had heard the noise in the 
 Sepoy lines and were expecting an out- 
 break and a dash for the guns. The Foot 
 Artillery were not so pleased to be 
 brought away, still they had to come, and 
 when once safely inside our lines we 
 turned the guns round, loaded them with 
 grape, and with port fires ready, guarded 
 them till morning was well advanced. 
 The reason of the forcible remonstrances 
 addressed to our Colonel by the Brigadier 
 was, 1 that he said it showed that we dis- 
 trusted the Sepoys. Looking back on 
 the events of those Mutiny days, nothing 
 
 1 Poor Brigadier Brind paid for his confidence in 
 the loyalty of the Sepoys with his life ; when the 
 mutiny broke out at Sealkote, he was shot by a 
 mutineer. 
 
ch. i.] Misplaced Confidence. 13 
 
 strikes one more forcibly than the confi- 
 dence that officers who had been long in 
 India reposed in their men, a confidence 
 that, alas ! cost many of them their lives. 
 No one could have been more confident 
 of the loyalty of his men than the Colonel 
 of the gth Bengal Cavalry, and yet after 
 the Mutiny was over we were told, that 
 one very hot night (it was on May 20), 
 when the officers of the gth Bengal 
 Cavalry entertained a good many guests 
 at their hospitable mess-table — all 
 windows and doors being open to catch 
 any stray breath of air, and every one 
 round the brilliantly-lighted table being 
 distinctly visible to those outside — that 
 in the darkness a number of cavalry 
 troopers with loaded carbines were 
 waiting for an agreed signal from the 
 infantry lines to fire upon us, a signal 
 which fortunately for us never came. 
 
14 A Night Ride. [ch. i. 
 
 » 
 
 Every post now brought fresh news ; 
 
 the Mutiny was spreading fast ; we had a 
 guard of ioo men out every night. On 
 Sunday the 17th we did not go to 
 church, it was not considered safe, so 
 service was held in the schoolroom within 
 our lines, and a guard with fixed 
 bayonets stood just outside the door. 
 
 In order to protect us when we were 
 on duty we were furnished with a guard 
 of the gth Bengal Cavalry to ride round 
 with us at night when we visited the 
 guards. The first guard we visited was 
 the Prison Guard, from which to the 
 Quarter Guard was a long ride over the 
 lonely plain. Just before we left 
 Sealkote I was on duty, and of course 
 had my patrol. On leaving the Prison 
 Guard I noticed that they were drawing 
 very close to me, and in spite of orders 
 continued to approach. Thoroughly 
 
ch. i.] Unpleasant Companions. 15 
 
 alarmed, I turned my pony and led my 
 patrol such a dance, through compounds, 
 over low walls, &c, that I arrived at the 
 Quarter Guard without my attendants, 
 nor did I see them again ; they may have 
 meant nothing, but I had not been long 
 enough in India to have a blind belief 
 in the loyalty of the Mussulman, and I 
 infinitely preferred their room to their 
 company. 
 
 On the night of May 20, on our 
 return from the dinner which might 
 have had such a tragic ending, we heard 
 that we were to march in a day or two 
 to form the Flying Column. The next 
 two days were busy ones, packing up ; the 
 transport allowance for subalterns was 
 limited to one camel each, so all of us 
 subalterns had to double up, as a tent is 
 a camel's full load. All the things we 
 could not take were sent into the Prison, 
 
1 6 We Leave our Plate [ch. i. 
 
 and there placed under a guard of the 
 46th Native Infantry. Not only were our 
 personal possessions left there, but all 
 the regimental plate, the great gold 
 candlestick, a relic of the Peninsular 
 War, the leaving gifts of generations of 
 officers, in fact everything valuable that 
 the regiment had, except some wonderful 
 Chateau Margaux, was left in the custody 
 of these loyal Sepoys ! We did not leave 
 these things willingly ; we could not have 
 taken them with us if we had wished. 
 Every officer had to take in his baggage 
 a certain number of spoons and forks, 
 and these, with a few salt-cellars, and 
 two snuff boxes, were all the plate we 
 took with us. The claret, however, we 
 took. What its history was, and how it 
 came into the possession of the regiment 
 no one knew ; all sorts of traditions hung 
 round it. It was precious, and the price 
 
ch. i.] Bur Take our Claret. i 7 
 
 was in proportion ; no one could afford to 
 have it, and there was not much of it. 
 This old claret, I believed at the time, 
 saved me from fever, for after a certain 
 period of marching and counter-marching 
 our already limited transport suffered 
 further reductions ; the Colonel, seeing 
 that this precious liquor could not be 
 carried much longer, ordered its prohibi- 
 tive price to be lowered to the price of 
 ordinary light claret. Then, while it 
 lasted, I used to drink a bottle a day. 
 
1 8 A Dust Storm [ch. n. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " Wheresoe'er that fiery star 
 
 Blazeth in the van of war, 
 Back retire from its ray 
 
 Shield and banner, bow and spear. 
 Maddened horses break away 
 From the trembling charioteer ; 
 
 The dread of that stern king doth lie 
 
 On all that sleep beneath the sky." 
 
 Marriage of Tirzah and Ahirad. 
 
 On May 25 the regiment left Sealkote 
 to join the Flying Column at Wuzeer- 
 abad ; two companies were left behind, but 
 within a week they rejoined head-quarters. 
 The regiment then was nearly goo 
 strong, and, with the exception of a few 
 ensigns, there was not a man in it of 
 less than five years' service. Our first 
 experience of hot-weather marching was 
 a dust storm that came on some two 
 hours after we started. We had taken 
 with us from Sealkote the 35th Native 
 
ch. ii.] Changes Order of March. 19 
 
 Infantry, and they, with the camels and 
 the bullock carts, were in front. The 
 storm caused a halt ; everyone had to lie 
 down, it was impossible to see anything, 
 and the noise of the wind prevented 
 hearing. When daylight came we found 
 ourselves in front ; we had actually 
 marched by the 35th Native Infantry, 
 camels, and bullock carts. Dust was 
 over everything, and so penetrating 
 was its nature that even the glass of a 
 hunter watch in my pocket was covered 
 by it. 
 
 Just before we got to Lahore, a native 
 infantry regiment, which had been dis- 
 armed, broke away, and a young fellow 
 with some 50 Sikhs was sent in pursuit ; 
 he caught them up some 125 miles away, 
 and tried to bring them back, but they 
 would not come. He fired upon them, 
 killing a good many, until his men said 
 
 c 2 
 
20 The Force Known as [cb. n. 
 
 they would not lire any more, they had so 
 few cartridges left, and were a long way 
 from any troops in a disturbed country. 
 The officer was in a dilemma : he could 
 not let the Sepoys escape, his men were 
 too few in number to march them back to 
 Lahore, setting aside all the difficulties 
 of commissariat, &c. If the Sepoys got 
 to close quarters they were numerous 
 enough to overpower his men. He, how- 
 ever, managed to march them into a build- 
 ing, and when night came on, he stuffed 
 up all the air-holes, so that in the morn- 
 ing, when the doors were opened, there 
 was no one to come out. The Blackhole 
 of Calcutta was repeated in the Punjaub. 
 On the 27th we got to Wuzeerabad, 
 where we found the rest of the column, 
 and then all together marched to Lahore, 
 where we arrived on June 2. The 
 troops composing the column were : — 
 
ch. ii.] The Moveable Column. 21 
 
 The 52nd Light Infantry. 
 No. 17 Light Field Battery. 
 1 6th Irregular Cavalry. 
 Detachment 2nd Punjaub Cavalry 
 No. 1 Light Field Battery. 
 Left wing 9th Bengal Cavalry. 
 35th Native Infantry. 
 
 Brigadier-General Neville Chamberlain 
 was in command of the force. 
 
 On June g these troops, afterwards 
 known as the " Moveable Column," left 
 Lahore for Umritzur, where we halted for 
 four days. On June 15 we resumed the 
 march, going in a southerly direction. 
 An extract from a letter written on 
 June 16 from Camp Reyah to my father, 
 the Bishop of Oxford, says ; — " We don't 
 know where we are to go : some say 
 Delhi, I am sure I hope so ; we are all 
 longing for a slap at the niggers, after 
 being marched about in this weather. I 
 believe we are supposed to be waiting for 
 insurgents coming down from Peshawur, 
 
22 Letters to my Father, [ch. h. 
 
 and they must cross the river somewhere 
 about this place, and so we shall nail 
 them here. Delhi is the place to which 
 every eye is turned ; if the insurgents 
 obtain the least advantage there, the 
 whole of India will rise and join them. 
 It will be very nice for us ; we are very 
 weak, and we are taking care of the 
 35th Native Infantry, and a wing of the 
 gth Light Cavalry: a very large river 1 in 
 front of us, increasing every day as the 
 snows melt. We are out in a field, and 
 the heat is no joke : 105 at 9 o'clock, 
 I20°at 12, and from 2 to 4 about 130 , which 
 is tremendous ; we get under our beds 
 with a wet towel round our heads. You 
 must not expect a letter every mail, for 
 except we halt, it is an impossibility to 
 write, as we march all night and sleep as 
 much of the day as we can. The winds 
 
 1 The Beas river. 
 
ch. ii.] Gossip of the Time. 23 
 
 are so hot you cannot move out in them, 
 and when they blow at night, which they 
 do when we are marching, it is not par- 
 ticularly pleasant, for they are quite as 
 hot at night as by day. We are hoping 
 to march to-night towards Delhi. 
 
 " Camp Gorana, June 17. — I believe we 
 go into Jullundur to-morrow, but we 
 know nothing ; we cannot stay where we 
 are, as we have no provisions. What a 
 row there will be in England when the 
 news comes, and how the Delhi and 
 Meerut massacres will shock you ! Fancy, 
 they boiled a lady, a Captain's wife, alive 
 in ghee, melted butter ! l Don't be- 
 lieve what they tell you about their ' caste,' 
 it is not that they are fighting about ; it is 
 a long series of grievances, and ' Oude ' 2 
 has topped it. They think the British 
 
 1 One of the stories current at the time. 
 
 2 The annexation of Oude by Lord Dalhousie. 
 
24 John Nicholson. [ch. n. 
 
 dominion or Raj is over, and they 
 have proclaimed the King of Delhi — King 
 of India. If you look in the map, you 
 will see the river Beas : we are 7 miles 
 from it on the Sealkote side, it flows 
 near Jullundur. All the troops are 
 concentrating on Delhi, and if we don't 
 take care, India will have to be retaken. 
 1 Another sortie from Delhi, repulsed — no 
 particulars,' that's the news just come in. 
 I shall write whenever I can. It is getting 
 so hot I must go under my bed now." 
 
 It was at the camp before this 
 one that Brigadier-General Chamberlain 
 left us to go to Delhi to take the post 
 of Adjutant-General to the army before 
 Delhi. On June 22 he was succeeded 
 in his command by John Nicholson, the 
 man who was destined to take such a 
 leading part in that most remarkable feat 
 of arms, the capture of Delhi. Un- 
 
ch. ii.] His Appearance, 25 
 
 known outside a small circle, his deeds 
 on the frontier had stamped him as apart 
 from the ordinary run of mankind. He 
 was of a commanding presence, some six 
 feet two inches in height, with a long 
 black beard, dark grey eyes with black 
 pupils (under excitement of any sort these 
 pupils would dilate like a tiger's), a 
 colourless face, over which no smile ever 
 passed, laconic of speech. Sir John 
 Lawrence, the Lieutenant-Governor of 
 the Punjaub, had sent for him from the 
 frontier, and giving him the rank of 
 Brigadier-General, 1 placed him in com- 
 mand of the Moveable Column. Our 
 Colonel who was thus superseded soon 
 recognized the wisdom of the appoint- 
 ment, for no other man could have done 
 what John Nicholson did. 
 
 1 Nicholson's military rank was that of Captain of the 
 27th Native Infantry. 
 
26 His Attendants, [ch. n. 
 
 Nicholson brought with him from the 
 frontier a motley crew called the " Mool- 
 tanee Horse ; " they came out of personal 
 devotion to Nicholson, they took no pay 
 from the Government, they recognized no 
 head but Nicholson, and him they obeyed 
 with a blind devotion and a faithfulness 
 that won the admiration of all who saw 
 them. These men, some 250 in number, 
 mounted on their wiry ponies, surrounded 
 the column like a web ; they rode in 
 couples, each couple within signalling 
 distance of the other, and so circled the 
 column round for many a mile. Nichol- 
 son's personal attendant was a huge 
 Pathan, black - whiskered and mous- 
 tachioed ; this man never left his side, he 
 slept across the doorway of Nicholson's 
 tent, so that none could come in save 
 over his body. When Nicholson dined 
 at mess this Pathan stood behind his 
 
ch.il] His Sword. 27 
 
 chair with a cocked revolver in one hand, 
 and allowed none to hand a dish to his 
 master save himself. The story of this 
 man's devotion was, that years before, in 
 one of the many frontier skirmishes, when 
 Nicholson was surrounded by the enemy, 
 this man's father saved Nicholson's life 
 with his own, by throwing himself be- 
 tween Nicholson and a descending sword 
 which must have killed him, and further, 
 in another of these skirmishes, this man 
 was taken prisoner and carried off, when 
 John Nicholson, single-handed, gave 
 chase, and cutting his way through, bore 
 him away in safety across his saddle bow. 
 It may be mentioned here that Nicholson 
 had the reputation of being one of the best 
 swordsmen in India, and his sword had the 
 credit of being the best sword in India. It 
 was presented to him by the Sikh nation. 
 The story of this gift from the Sikhs 
 
28 His Worshippers. [ch. iu 
 
 to Nicholson, as it was told us, was 
 that when the Sikhs had decided on 
 presenting Nicholson with the best sword 
 that could be found, they invited their 
 people to send to Peshawur swords to 
 select from ; such a vast number were 
 sent, that selection was difficult. At 
 length, by a process of elimination, the 
 number was reduced to three, all of 
 which appeared to be equally excellent. 
 Nicholson was then invited to take his 
 choice of the three, and chose a straight 
 one. Native swords are very seldom 
 straight — they are generally curved. It 
 was generally supposed that this sword was 
 grooved inside and contained quick-silver, 
 so as to increase the force of a direct blow. 
 It is known that John Nicholson was 
 worshipped by the Sikhs. Their religion 
 admits of repeated incarnations, and this 
 noble, sad-faced man was thought by 
 
ch. ii.] Their Adoration. 29 
 
 them to be their god veiled in human 
 flesh. All travellers in India know the 
 Golden Taj at Umritzur, and the Sikhs 
 declared that if Nicholson would openly 
 profess the Sikh religion, they would 
 raise a Taj to him beside which the 
 Umritzur Taj should be as nought. 
 During the time Nicholson was with the 
 column, it was a common sight of an 
 evening to see the Sikhs come into 
 camp in order that they might see him ; 
 they used to be admitted into his tent 
 in bodies of about a dozen at a time. 
 Once in the presence, they seated them- 
 selves on the ground and fixed their eyes 
 upon the object of their adoration, who 
 all the while went steadfastly on with 
 whatever work he was engaged in, never 
 even lifting his eyes to the faces of his 
 mute worshippers. Sometimes, overcome 
 perhaps by prickings of conscience, or 
 
30 How he Punished Them. [ch. h. 
 
 carried away by feelings he could not 
 control, one of them would prostrate 
 himself in prayer. This was an offence, 
 against the committal of which warning 
 had been given, and the penalty never 
 varied : three dozen lashes with the 
 cat-o'-nine tails on the bare back. This 
 they did not mind, but on the contrary, 
 rejoiced in the punishment, for they 
 used to say: " Our god knew that we 
 had been doing wrong, and therefore 
 punished us." A certain tribe on the 
 frontier had openly adopted Nicholson 
 as their deity, and called themselves the 
 Nickelseyn fakirs. When the news was 
 brought to them that Nicholson was 
 dead, the two head men of the tribe 
 committed suicide, but the next in com- 
 mand addressing the remainder, said : 
 " Nickelseyn always said that he was 
 a man like as we are, and that he 
 
ch. ii.] His Sense of Duty. 31 
 
 worshipped a God whom we could not 
 see, but who was always near us. Let 
 us learn to worship Nickelseyn's God." 
 The tribe went into Peshawur, and put- 
 ting themselves under Christian teachers, 
 were baptized to a man. Truly " their 
 works follow them," for this was probably 
 the only instance in which natives of 
 India in a body forsook their old faith, 
 and became Christians on purely dis- 
 interested grounds. 
 
 Doubtless John Nicholson's face, his 
 reckless bravery, his manner of life, his 
 immunity from death — for it might almost 
 be said that he sought for death, but could 
 not find it — contributed to encourage the 
 superstitions of a superstitious people. 
 
 Fully aware of the necessities of the 
 times, a stern sense of duty had made 
 Nicholson expunge the word " mercy " 
 from his vocabulary, yet such was the 
 
32 The Punishment [ch, h. 
 
 nature of the man, that one who was 
 in his closest confidence said that often 
 after ordering executions, he would re- 
 turn to his tent and burst into tears. 
 Nicholson was not a letter-writer ; on 
 one occasion during the march of the 
 column, Sir John Lawrence, who was 
 anxious for news, sent a peremptory dis- 
 patch, at the end of which he said: "You 
 are to inform me without delay — Where 
 you are ; what you are doing ; and to 
 send a return of courts-martial held 
 upon insurgent natives, with a list of 
 the various punishments inflicted." This 
 drew from Nicholson this answer : he 
 turned over the document he had re- 
 ceived, and wrote on it : i. Name of 
 place where he was ; 2, the date ; 3, 
 "THE PUNISHMENT OF MUTINY 
 IS DEATH " ; and signed it. 
 
 A correspondence between Nicholson 
 
ch. ii.] Of Mutiny. 33 
 
 and Sir John Lawrence, in which 
 the former strongly urged the Lieu- 
 tenant-Governor to order H.M. 87th 
 Regiment — then acting as a guard to 
 the women and children collected at 
 the Hill Station of Murree — to join his 
 column and march to Delhi, affords a 
 characteristic illustration of the serious 
 importance Nicholson attached to the 
 situation. In the last paragraph of the 
 letter which closed the correspondence 
 he writes: "When an Empire is at stake, 
 women and children cease to be of any 
 consideration whatever." 
 
 Wherever the column halted the tele- 
 graph wires were tapped, so that any 
 telegrams that passed up and down the 
 wire were conducted into a small tent, 
 where sat a telegraph clerk with his in- 
 strument. This man's weakness was 
 drink, and he had to be guarded by a 
 
 D 
 
34 His Farsightedness [ch, ii. 
 
 sentry to prevent his getting liquor over 
 and above his regular allowance. One 
 of the men 1 who acted as sentry over him 
 tells me that he saw Nicholson come one 
 day to the tent and say to the man, " If 
 you let a message pass without taking 
 it off, I will hang you ; " and he adds, 
 " And he would have done it, too. I 
 never saw a man like him ; he had an 
 eye like a hawk, and I don't know when 
 he ever slept, for he was about night 
 and day." 
 
 Nicholson made himself Postmaster- 
 General, 2 and all letters that passed along 
 
 1 Sergeant Knight, at that time a private. 
 
 2 When the Mutiny broke out, Nicholson was at 
 Peshawur, the approach to which from the south is at 
 Attock, on the Indus. At Attock, Nicholson seized the 
 mails, got a number of native letters translated and 
 copied by some Post-office Baboos, and then sent the 
 letters on to their destinations. The copies he made up 
 into separate packets. A Council to consider the situa- 
 tion and what steps should be taken, was assembled at 
 Peshawur. This Council was attended by not only the 
 Commissioner, the Commander of the Forces, and the 
 
ch. ii.] Detects Plots. 35 
 
 the road were intercepted ; the native 
 ones read, and sent on to allay suspicion. 
 By these means Nicholson knew all that 
 was in progress, and many a plot did 
 he leave nearly to develop before he took 
 measures to stop it. During the march 
 in the Punjaub there was a wonderful 
 instance of this. It has been said that 
 the 35th Native Infantry marched with 
 the column. On June 25th the column 
 was to arrive at Phillor, 1 a fort on the 
 
 leading men, but also by all the Regimental Commanders 
 in the district. One of the questions to be considered 
 by the Council was, what dependence could be placed on 
 the Native Troops. Colonel after Colonel declared that 
 whatever others might be, the soldiers he commanded 
 were loyal to their salt — were devoted to the English — 
 and would shed the last drop of their blood for the 
 Sirkar. When these declarations were over, Nicholson 
 rose, produced his packets of letters, and handed them 
 to each Colonel separately, with, " Perhaps these letters 
 will interest you." It need hardly be added that the 
 packets of letters were treasonable correspondence. 
 
 1 This important fort on the Sutlej river commanded 
 the entrance to the Punjaub. It was on the Grand Trunk 
 Road, and, like most important positions, was garrisoned 
 by Sepoys. Phillor was within the Jullundur command. 
 
 D 2 
 
36 His Resolution [ch. el 
 
 Sutlej river ; during the march Nicholson 
 came to our Colonel and said, " Can 
 your men out-march these fellows?" 
 meaning the 35th Native Infantry. 
 Campbell said they could ; the men 
 quickened step, and in the morning 
 halted on a sandy plain, naked and desert 
 save for a small temple, with its usual 
 clump of trees, which immediately fronted 
 us. The regiment was drawn into line, 
 the troop of Horse Artillery placed in the 
 middle ; all were ordered to load, the 
 guns were loaded, and Nicholson rode 
 along the line to give his orders. " In 
 
 At Jullundur itself was Colonel Hartley, of H.M. 8th 
 Regiment. Aware of the extreme importance of this post, 
 and fearful lest he should arouse the susceptibilities of the 
 loyal (?) Sepoys, he resorted to stratagem in order to 
 obtain possession of the fort. Under the pretence of 
 laying up a store of horse forage, &c, he sent in several 
 bullock carts laden with grass and straw, in each of which 
 three or four English soldiers were concealed. The 
 carts were admitted into the fort ; the soldiers got up ; 
 and Phillor was quietly occupied by the English. 
 
ch. ii.] Defeats Them. 37 
 
 a few minutes you will see two 1 Native 
 Infantry regiments come round that little 
 temple. If they bring their muskets to 
 the ' ready,' fire a volley into them 
 without further orders." The same order 
 was given to the Artillery, whose guns 
 were loaded with grape; the men stood 
 at the ready, the gunners with flaming 
 port-fires ; the expected regiments came. 
 Nicholson rode to meet them. He spoke 
 to them, there was a moment's hesita- 
 tion, then their arms were grounded, 
 and all was over. Two thousand men 
 had laid down their arms to seven 
 hundred ! Nicholson, between the fires 
 as he was, must inevitably have been 
 killed, either by us or by the mutineers. 
 As self-appointed Postmaster he knew, by 
 the correspondence that passed through 
 
 1 The 33rd Native Infantry from Hoosheyapore joined 
 our line of march at this place. 
 
3& His Mark. [ch. h. 
 
 his hands, that a scheme had been 
 arranged between the two Native In- 
 fantry regiments — when miles distant 
 from one another — that when our regi- 
 ment, who marched unloaded, came to 
 close quarters, they should fire into us, 
 and then that they should march together 
 down to Delhi. 
 
 On July 28th the column marched into 
 Jullundur, where Nicholson had arrived 
 the day before, and as it turned off the 
 Trunk Road to march to quarters, one 
 British soldier was overheard to say, 
 " Jack, the General's here." 
 
 11 How do you know ? " 
 
 " Why, look there ; there's his mark." 
 
 The " there" his fellow soldier was 
 told to look at was a pair of gallows, 
 each of which was adorned with six 
 hanging mutineers, while close by were 
 several bullock-carts, all filled with 
 
ch. ii.] No Courts-Martial. 39 
 
 Sepoys who had revolted, and who were 
 waiting for their turn. 
 
 When the column first started under 
 General Neville Chamberlain, courts- 
 martial, drumhead, used to be held, and 
 the mutineers who were found guilty 
 were blown from the muzzles of guns 
 to which they were securely tied. Few 
 courts-martial were held by Nicholson ; 
 his dictum, " The punishment of mutiny 
 is death," obviated any necessity for 
 trials ; while he himself, with the oppor- 
 tunities he had, or, more properly speak- 
 ing, the opportunities for judging that 
 he made for himself, coupled with his 
 wonderful power of recognizing a Sepoy, 
 however disguised, relieved the officers of 
 the Moveable Column from an extra duty 
 which was not of the very slightest use. 
 
 A remarkable instance of Nichol- 
 son's power of penetrating the disguise 
 
40 At Full Gallop [gk.ii, 
 
 of a Sepoy happened as the column 
 marched from Goodaspore to attack the 
 mutineers. The low ground, through 
 which the road was carried on an em- 
 bankment, was partially submerged, it 
 being the rainy season ; in marching 
 along the road, two bowed -down 
 wretched-looking men, with bundles on 
 their backs, had, owing to the narrow- 
 ness of passage, passed close by the 
 regiment. Some half-hour afterwards 
 Nicholson, attended by his Brigade- 
 Major, his Aide-de-camp, and some Pa- 
 thans, came down the road at a hand- 
 gallop to overtake the column ; as he 
 passed the two men he turned slightly 
 round, and, pointing to the two ap- 
 parently innocent-looking men, said to 
 the Pathans who were following, 
 Maro ! The order was instantly 
 
 1 Kill. 
 
ch. ii. i Detects Sepoy. 41 
 
 obeyed ; the unerring eye of Nicholson 
 had detected the Sepoy, the harmless- 
 looking bundles they were carrying were 
 native swords, and these were being 
 taken to Goodaspore to arm an irregular 
 cavalry regiment which had been dis- 
 armed by Nicholson the previous day. 
 
 Nicholson abandoned the practice of 
 blowing mutineers from guns ; he thought 
 the powder so expended might be more 
 usefully employed. Once, and once only, 
 did he execute in this fashion — it was 
 just after he joined the column ; he had 
 ordered a drumhead court martial for the 
 trial of nine mutinous Sepoys ; they were 
 found guilty by the court martial and 
 sentenced to death. A hollow square was 
 formed by the nine guns on one face, the 
 35th Native Infantry, from whose ranks 
 the mutineers about to suffer had been 
 taken, were drawn up opposite facing the 
 
42 Mutineers Meet Death [ch. it 
 
 guns : the wings of the regiment made up 
 the remaining sides of the square. The 
 nine guns were unlimbered in open order 
 and loaded with, of course, powder only. 
 When all was ready an order was heard 
 outside the square, " Quick march," and 
 immediately the nine mutineers, with a 
 space between each of them, correspond- 
 ing exactly to the distance between the 
 guns, marched into the hollow square. 
 At the word " Halt ! " each man stopped 
 opposite the muzzle of a gun ; " Right 
 face," they turned; " Stand-at-ease," 
 they joined their hands and leant back 
 against the gun. The next instant their 
 heads flew upward into the air, their legs 
 fell forward, and their intestines were 
 blown into the faces of their former com- 
 rades who stood watching the scene. 
 Mutineers as they were, no one who saw 
 this execution could refrain from admiring 
 
ch. ii.] With Equanimity. 43 
 
 the undaunted courage and coolness with 
 which these men met their death. 
 
 On July 4th, as the column was re- 
 tracing its steps to Umritzur, an 
 incident occurred, owing to an order of 
 Nicholson's, which might have had a 
 disastrous ending. The order was that 
 no natives should be allowed to ride by 
 any white man. They were to be made 
 to get off and salaam. In the very early 
 morning of July 4th, while it was still 
 dark, the orderly officer for the day was, 
 according to custom, riding on in front 
 of the column to pick up the baggage 
 camels, &c, which always started from 
 the last camp some hours earlier, so as 
 to get to the camping ground before the 
 column came in. The orderly officer on 
 duty had to see that the camp was 
 properly ordered. In the darkness he 
 was riding along more than half asleep, 
 
44 <d Young Officer. [ch. n. 
 
 roused every now and then by a stumble 
 from his horse, a stumble not unfre- 
 quently attended by a fall of both horse 
 and rider, when he was thoroughly 
 awakened by his horse shying violently 
 across the road. He soon discovered 
 that the cause of his horse's agitation 
 proceeded from the approach of an 
 elephant. Pressing his horse close up 
 to the elephant, he called out in English, 
 "Who are you?" Getting no answer, 
 he drew his revolver, and again hailing, 
 said, H Get down, you niggers, and 
 salaam, or I will fire at you ! " 
 
 It was light enough for him to see that 
 the elephant had a howdah on, and that 
 there was more than one occupant of the 
 howdah. The only reply to the threaten- 
 ing language was a rattle of arms and a 
 rapid whispering, immediately followed 
 by a commanding voice, which ordered 
 
ch. ii.] His Idea of Duty. 45 
 
 something. Down went the elephant on 
 its knees, and from the howdah stepped 
 two figures, who duly salaamed to the 
 young officer. He then rode on, thinking 
 nothing of the incident ; but next day 
 Nicholson's brigade-major came to his 
 tent with, " Here, youngster, the General 
 wants to speak to you ; what on earth 
 have you been up to ? M They both went 
 to Nicholson's tent. The General was 
 sitting, writing at his table ; near him 
 stood a native magnificently dressed, with 
 a clear olive complexion, black beard and 
 whiskers. Nicholson said : " You met 
 an elephant on the road this morning, and 
 made the riders get down and salaam to 
 you ; why did you do it ? " 
 
 "Your order, Sir, that no natives 
 should pass a white man riding, without 
 dismounting and salaaming." Nicholson 
 turned to his companion and said some- 
 
46 Friendly Afghans. [ch. n. 
 
 thing in a language unintelligible to the 
 young officer, and then turning to him, 
 said, " You owe your life to this gentle- 
 man, for his attendant would have shot 
 you, but he prevented him." The 
 stranger said something in the same un- 
 intelligible language to Nicholson, who 
 then said, " You can go, but before you 
 do so, I may tell you what he has just 
 said to me : * No wonder you English 
 conquer India when mere boys obey 
 orders as this one did.' " The young 
 officer heard afterwards that the man he 
 had made salaam to him in the darkness 
 of the morning was a trusted emissary 
 of the great Dost Mahommed, the ruler 
 of Cabul, who had sent a great Prince 
 with messages assuring Nicholson 
 of his loyalty to the English in the 
 terrible struggle in which they were 
 engaged, and promising more material 
 
ch. ii. ] Their Contempt of Sepoys. 47 
 
 aid in the shape of troops should 
 Nicholson ask for them. The fact of 
 the Dost sending the message to Nichol- 
 son instead of to Sir John Lawrence, 
 the Lieut. -Governor of the Punjaub, 
 shows how much Nicholson was thought 
 of, even by those who were not under 
 English rule. 
 
 Some of the Afghans who were with 
 the column were never weary of declaim- 
 ing against the cowardice of the Sepoys, 
 who killed women and children. They 
 said: " When we fought against you 
 English we killed men, 1 but we protected 
 your women ; men do not fight against 
 women, only against men." These men 
 used frequently to come into our mess- 
 tent on invitation, sit down and smoke a 
 cigar, and drink a brandy and soda ; one 
 of them was asked, if the doing this 
 
 1 Cf. Lady Sale's Journal. 
 
48 Caste Made for Dogs. [ch. h. 
 
 did not injure his caste. "Caste," he 
 answered, " is only made for dogs like 
 that," pointing to the man who had just 
 served him ; "not for chiefs," 
 
 On July 6th we got back to Umritzur ; 
 we had left it on June 16th. Since then 
 the flame of mutiny had spread : the 59th 
 Native Infantry, who were in charge of 
 the fort, were known to be disaffected. 
 Directly we arrived we marched straight 
 to the gates of the fort, surprised the 
 guard, occupied quietly position after 
 position, marched the 59th Native In- 
 fantry out on the plain and disarmed 
 them. So surprised were they that there 
 was not the slightest resistance. 
 
en. in.] Marching Orders. 49 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 "All was prepared — the fire, the sword, the men 
 To wield them in their terrible array. 
 The army, like a lion from his den, 
 
 March'd forth with nerve and sinews bent to slay, — 
 A human Hydra, issuing from its fen 
 
 To breathe destruction on its winding way." 
 
 Don Juan. 
 
 At Umritzur we halted until July 10th. 
 That evening, while we were seated round 
 the mess-table, about half-way through 
 dinner, Nicholson, who had not spoken a 
 word, suddenly said, " Gentlemen, I do 
 not want you to hurry your dinner, but 
 the column marches in half-an-hour." 
 This announcement soon set everyone 
 hard at work ; dinner was finished in 
 haste, and we were all out of the mess- 
 tent, hurrying to give orders about our 
 things and wondering much what the 
 reason was for this sudden order. We 
 
 E 
 
5<d Through the Night [ch. m. 
 
 soon heard it — the native troops, which 
 we had left behind us at Sealkote, had 
 broken out into mutiny, released the 
 prisoners from the jail, looted the station, 
 and marched off to Delhi. Nicholson, 
 by a forced march, hoped to intercept 
 them. At 8*30 the column started : 
 eight companies of the regiment, some 
 Punjabees, and Bourchier's troop of Horse 
 Artillery. One of those who shared in 
 that long night march thus describes it : 
 " I could never forget that march. A few 
 of us never went to bed that day, for we 
 did not want to spoil a night's sleep ; we 
 had been looking forward to the luxury of 
 that sleep in the darkness ; for weeks past 
 we had only slept in the daytime, in the 
 glaring sunshine, shaded it is true by the 
 canvas of our tents ; but to sleep in the 
 dark, that was worth keeping awake for ; 
 
 * 
 
 so we kept each other awake in the day- 
 
ch. in.] On a Pony. 5 1 
 
 time in anticipation of our sleep. When 
 we started we were pretty tired, and very 
 soon I fell fast asleep on my pony. Sud- 
 denly I woke ; the pony was standing 
 with his head in a prickly bush. I 
 listened ; there was no sound. I called 
 aloud ; there was no answer. I had no 
 idea where I had wandered. I was off 
 the road — that was all I knew. I turned 
 the pony's head, the sense of weariness 
 overpowered me, and again I slept. My 
 next awakening was in a different scene : 
 it seemed a wild medley ; shouts and 
 squeals filled the air and thoroughly woke 
 me up. I found that I was back on the 
 line of march again and in the middle of 
 the spare artillery horses ; why I was not 
 kicked by some of them I know not. I 
 soon found my place with my regiment, and 
 kept fairly awake for the rest of the night." 
 Early in the morning we halted at a 
 
 E 2 
 
52 Bread for Breakfast. [ch. m. 
 
 little village called Buttala ; here we ate 
 the food we had brought with us (I only 
 had two thin biscuits, a little brandy, and 
 a bottle of soda-water) ; then on again in 
 the sun. About 10 we halted again under 
 a gigantic tree, whose great branches, 
 with their pendant uprights, covered so 
 wide an area that under its shade there 
 was room and to spare for the whole 
 regiment. Beside us there was a native, 
 who, with bullocks, was working an irri- 
 gation pump of the most primitive pat- 
 tern : it consisted of an endless rope to 
 which little earthen cups were attached ; 
 these, filled with water from the well, 
 were raised by the bullocks and emptied 
 into a trough which ran out into the 
 fields. In about twenty minutes some 
 bread came up for the men ; we got a 
 little, so then we had bread and cold 
 water for breakfast. Presently some of 
 
ch. in.] Sleep for Dinner. 53 
 
 the ubiquitous Mooltanee Horse arrived, 
 bringing news, and at midday we started 
 again on the hot and dusty road. While 
 under the tree we had seen our camels 
 pass us ; about 5 p.m. we came in sight 
 of our tents, pitched ready for us. I was so 
 tired that I threw myself down on my bed 
 and went to sleep at once, never waking 
 for dinner, and slept on till next morning. 
 I had ordered breakfast about nine 
 o'clock, and just as I was ready and was 
 leaving my tent for the mess-tent, the 
 fall-in bugle sounded, and I had only time 
 to run back, get my sword and revolver, 
 and fall in, breakfastless. The heat 
 during the previous day had been so ex- 
 cessive that it was difficult to grasp the 
 brass sword-handle ; many horses died 
 of sunstroke during that day, many men 
 were invalided, and some died of heat 
 apoplexy on that march of forty-two miles 
 
54 The Mutineers [ch. m. 
 
 in twenty-one hours, most of it in the full 
 blaze of a July sun. We marched from 
 our camp to have as we knew our first 
 brush with the mutineers, and to see for 
 the first time shots fired in earnest. Just 
 before we came to the place where the 
 action was fought, we had to cross a 
 stream which intersected the road ; the 
 officers, who were all riding, were told to 
 dismount and walk through with the men. 
 This we did ; the water felt quite warm as 
 we passed through it, many of us seized 
 the opportunity to pour some of the water 
 on our heads, wetting them thoroughly. 
 On the other side we halted and formed 
 line, and the guns were unlimbered. 
 
 To our front there was a line of trees, 
 fringing the Ravee river, and under those 
 trees the mutineers were drawn up in line 
 waiting for us, the 46th Native Infantry, 
 about 1,000 strong, and a wing of the gth 
 
ch. in.] Fire and Charge. 5 5 
 
 Bengal Cavalry, which was stationed on 
 their left. Our force consisted of about 
 220 of all ranks. So serious had the 
 effects of the heat been on that day 
 and the one before upon the men, that 
 during the twelve-mile march our men 
 fell out of the ranks by scores, and were 
 carried after us in dhoolies ; of course 
 the nine guns of Bourchier's troop were 
 with us, and some so-called Sikhs, in 
 reality Punjabees. Nicholson now rode 
 up ; he at once ordered the guns to 
 limber up again and get to closer 
 quarters. This was done, and the next 
 time we halted we were only about 100 
 yards from the mutineers, who took the 
 initiative and fired a volley into us and 
 then charged with their cavalry on our 
 right flank, while their infantry attacked 
 our left flank. 
 
 These Sealkote mutineers had seen 
 
56 We Receive Them. [ch. m. 
 
 us march out of the station dressed in 
 white, but while we were at Lahore 
 our Colonel ordered all the clothes 
 to be dyed with a colour which after- 
 wards became so well known in India 
 as Kharkee ; it was a capital colour, 
 and almost invisible. During a long 
 march it would have been impossible 
 to keep the white clothes clean : it 
 looked neat and certainly deluded the 
 mutineers. They had broken out into 
 mutiny on July gth, and, allowing for 
 the necessary time to elapse, they calcu- 
 lated that no white troops could have 
 got to where we were ; % besides, they 
 knew that the so-called Sikh police were 
 dressed in Kharkee, and, as far as they 
 knew, the English troops were clad in 
 white. 
 
 On the right the cavalry were received 
 in squares of companies ; they rode round 
 
en. in.] Our Formation. 57 
 
 and round, firing their pistols point 
 blank at us ; at length they had had 
 enough and retired. In doing so, one 
 cavalry trooper seized an artilleryman 
 by his shoulder-belt and was riding away 
 with him, when they crossed the path of 
 fire of one of the nine-pounders ; at that 
 instant the charge of grape was fired, it 
 struck the three of them at a distance of 
 some fifteen yards, blowing the horse, 
 the rider and the captive literally to 
 pieces. 
 
 It ought to have been stated that the 
 formation of our attack was the nine guns 
 at wide intervals, the regiment being 
 divided up between them. 
 
 While the cavalry were thus busy on 
 our right, one or two episodes occurred. 
 Nicholson, and some of his Pathan 
 body-guard, were behind us. It is the 
 creed of these men that to be in action 
 
58 Single Combat. [ch. hi. 
 
 without individually accounting for some 
 one is a matter of shame. In pursuance 
 of this doctrine, we saw two of the body- 
 guard come out on our right and ap- 
 parently challenge two of the Bengal 
 Cavalry to single combat ; anyway, the 
 challenge was accepted, and the four 
 rode at each other, the Pathans on 
 their ponies, their tulwars waving in 
 circles round their heads, their loose 
 garments flowing ; the Bengalees sat 
 erect on their big horses, their swords 
 held ready to deliver the " point," a 
 stroke no irregular cavalry man com- 
 prehends, as he does not in his sword 
 exercise learn to parry the thrust. For 
 a moment all eyes were on the four com- 
 batants : the thrust was delivered, but in- 
 stead of piercing the bodies of the Pathans 
 it passed over them, for they threw them- 
 selves back on their ponies, their heads 
 
ch. in.] The Great Swordsman. 59 
 
 on the crupper, their feet by the ponies' 
 ears, and in that position swept off the 
 heads of the Bengal Cavalry men ; in- 
 stantly the ponies wheeled round, the 
 men straightened themselves in their 
 saddles, and they passed away from 
 our vision. Then Nicholson came into 
 view ; he too was going to kill his man. 
 The scene was a brief one, the mutineer 
 thrust at the great swordsman, who 
 parried the thrust, and with apparently 
 the same motion clove his assailant's 
 head in two ; he also passed away from 
 our sight. 
 
 In the smoke and noise it was 
 impossible to see what was going on on 
 our left, but soon an urgent message 
 reached us, our square opened out, and 
 with fixed bayonets we charged down on 
 the left. We found that owing to the 
 before-mentioned delusion on the part of 
 
6o We Cross Ba yonets. [ch. ih. 
 
 the Sepoys, their charge on our left had 
 been so spirited that our men had been 
 driven in on the centre. The tide was 
 soon turned, but this was probably the 
 only instance in the Mutiny when 
 Englishmen and Sepoys actually crossed 
 bayonets in the open. I saw one Sepoy 
 pierced through with a bayonet, and borne 
 to the ground, the bayonet going into the 
 ground and twisting so that it could not 
 be withdrawn. One of our men, an Irish- 
 man, who was also a spectator of this 
 incident, immediately took off his 
 bayonet, and, putting it in the ground, 
 went on with his butt, which he flourished 
 to some purpose, one swing of it felling 
 no less than three of his opponents. 
 The Sepoys were forced backward, and 
 breaking, fled to the river in confusion, 
 leaving, however, many dead and 
 wounded in their flight. 
 
ch. in.] The Mutineers Repulsed. 6r 
 
 While we were thus engaged another 
 action was going on in our rear. The 
 cavalry which had been driven off, rode 
 down the very road we had come along, 
 and in so doing they encountered our 
 sick, who were slowly following. As 
 soon as the bearers of the dhoolies 
 saw the Sepoy Cavalry coming they 
 promptly put the dhoolies down and 
 bolted. A sergeant took command : 
 quickly getting the dhoolies across the 
 road he formed the men behind them, 
 and from this comparatively safe posi- 
 tion fired into the advancing cavalry, 
 with such effect that again the cavalry 
 had to turn and seek safety in some other 
 direction. Our total loss was 2 officers 
 and 25 men killed and wounded ; of the 
 wounded, one was the Colonel, and the 
 other a subaltern, who was hit in the 
 chest with a spent bullet ; he saw the 
 
62 A Great Thirst. [ch. m. 
 
 hole in his jacket and immediately con- 
 cluded that he was shot through the 
 lungs, so he began to make his way to the 
 rear. In doing this he encountered the 
 Brigade-Major, who hailed him, asking 
 what the matter was. M I am shot 
 through the lungs," was the answer. 
 The Brigade-Major, who knew that a 
 person shot through the lungs could 
 hardly speak with so sound a voice, said : 
 " Turn round and let me see the hole 
 where the bullet came out." This was 
 done, and the desired position being also 
 attained, the Brigade-Major with a lusty 
 smack on the back ordered him back 
 again to the front. 
 
 On that day I shall never forget 
 the thirst that I suffered, and great 
 was my joy when I espied a well. I 
 longed to get a draught of water, but 
 our doctor would not let me drink ; he, 
 
en. in.] Tepid Water. 63 
 
 however, dropped some of the water on 
 my tongue, which was much swollen. 
 The water felt so cold that it almost hurt. 
 The next year a brother officer and I 
 were going to the hills on sick leave. On 
 our journey we had to pass this very well. 
 I told him of the marvellous cold of the 
 water in that well, and we both, thirsty 
 though we were, abstained from drinking 
 anything in anticipation of the glorious 
 cold draught we should get from this 
 wonderful well. When, however, we got 
 to the well, we found the water of the usual 
 tepid temperature, and I then knew that 
 it was only the extremity of thirst which 
 had made me, the year before, think it ice- 
 cold. Just before we marched back to 
 the camp we had left in the morning, I 
 saw a sergeant come up to one of the 
 officers to make his report of the casual- 
 ties in his company. He presented the 
 
64 Prisoners Parade. [ch. m. 
 
 paper, and no sooner had he done so 
 than he spun round on his heels and fell 
 dead from sunstroke. 
 
 Right glad we all were to be back 
 again in camp, and I was especially 
 glad to be once more at the mess 
 table, and to eat the first food that had 
 crossed my lips for forty-eight hours, 
 during which time we had marched 
 sixty-six miles, fought our first action, 
 and been exposed for two successive 
 days to the blazing heat of an 
 Indian July sun. We halted in camp 
 two days, during which numbers of 
 prisoners of all sorts were brought in, 
 both by the Sikh Police and the Mool- 
 tanee Horse ; they used to be paraded 
 in a line in the evening, and then 
 Nicholson would walk down the line. 
 Every now and then he pointed to a man, 
 who was immediately taken out. Those 
 
ch. in.] After the Fight. 65 
 
 pointed at were Sepoys, and ordered for 
 instant execution ; the remainder, mere 
 country people, were let go. 
 
 On July 15th we marched again down 
 the same road to our former battle-field. 
 We got there in the evening. Clouds of 
 vultures rose from or hopped about on 
 the ground ; they had been satiating 
 themselves with the dead Sepoys and with 
 dead horses ; the stench as we marched 
 across the scene of the encounter was 
 horrible. Our tents were soon pitched 
 inside the belt of trees where we first saw 
 the mutineers. Many of us took the 
 opportunity to go down to the banks of 
 the river, where the nine-pounders were 
 firing at an island to which the Sepoys 
 had retreated, and where they had the 
 old twelve-o'clock gun from the station. 
 While we were there watching what was 
 going on we saw the Sepoys drive some 
 
 F 
 
66 Our Plate Sunk. [ch. m. 
 
 camels into the river. The stream shoaled 
 considerably on the island side, while on 
 our side the water was very deep ; we 
 noticed that the camels were loaded with 
 small boxes. When well out in the 
 stream we saw the cords that held the 
 boxes cut, and the boxes fall into the 
 water. We afterwards found out that it 
 was our regimental plate we saw drown- 
 ing ; we had left it behind, for means of 
 transport were scanty. The boxes sank 
 in the shifting sands of the river, and 
 although for two winters, when the rivers 
 are low, we had numbers of men with 
 long iron probes searching, no part of the 
 plate was ever again found, and the 
 regiment suffered an irreparable loss. 
 
 That evening one of our poor fellows 
 shot himself; he was cleaning one of the 
 officers' revolvers, and in showing the 
 mechanism to a brother soldier the pistol 
 
ch. in.] A Funeral. 67 
 
 went off and killed him instantly. As I 
 was on duty that day I had to bury him. 
 He was sewn up in his bedding, a grave 
 was dug, the firing party told off, and I 
 took the funeral, the first but not the last 
 on service. It was a solemn scene — the 
 wide desolate plain deserted by every- 
 thing except the gorging vultures and 
 the howling jackals. I read part of our 
 beautiful burial service, beginning at 
 M Man that is born of a woman ; " then 
 three volleys were fired, and all was over ; 
 we marked the place by a wooden cross, 
 but next year when I passed by even this 
 little record was gone. 
 
 The next morning we paraded at 
 3 a.m. ; of course it was pitch dark. As 
 soon as we had fallen in, the Colonel 
 arrived, mounted on a small pony he 
 had borrowed, as he did not want 
 to take his charger over the river 
 
 f 2 
 
6S Cross the Ra fee. [ch. m. 
 
 in the boat. He called the regiment 
 
 to u attention," and gave the order 
 
 11 Shoulder arms." In those days the 
 
 custom was to throw the musket up and 
 
 bring the right hand down on the butt 
 
 with a smack ; the order was promptly 
 
 obeyed, and as every hand came down 
 
 simultaneously, the pony, unused to 
 
 martial exercises, turned suddenly round, 
 
 depositing the Colonel on the ground. 
 
 After the Colonel had recovered from 
 
 his somewhat undignified position, we 
 
 marched down to the banks of the river ; 
 
 there we found two large flat-bottomed 
 
 boats, and in them we crossed over in 
 
 detachments. Meanwhile our field-guns 
 
 were firing away across the river at the 
 
 Sepoy position. 
 
 Our company was the leading com- 
 pany of the day ; during the march we 
 always took the leading position in turn, 
 
ck. in.] Advance on Mutineers. 69 
 
 for as a rule the dust on the line of 
 march was very bad. We were extended 
 in skirmishing order and told to advance. 
 Of course we had supports behind us. 
 The Captain was on the right, and I was 
 on the left ; the ground was level and at 
 first covered with high rushes, but these 
 soon gave way to grass, and then we saw 
 the object of attack — an earthwork — in 
 which was our old twelve-o'clock gun. 
 The mutineers kept firing at us as we 
 advanced, but we could hear the shots 
 singing far above our heads. While we 
 thus advanced Nicholson joined us ; he 
 rode by me, and as he rode told me a story 
 of how he had killed a tiger on horseback 
 with his sword — I think he said on that 
 very island, but I may be mistaken. The 
 feat was performed by riding round and 
 round the tiger at a gallop, gradually 
 narrowing the circle until at last the 
 
Jo We Charge. [ca m. 
 
 swordsman was near enough to deliver 
 his blow. Of course he had only the 
 one blow. It is well known that Sir 
 James Outram, the Bayard of India, 
 performed this feat. During the circling 
 process the tiger does not spring upon 
 the horseman, probably because he is 
 watching his opportunity, and as the 
 circle draws in upon him he gets more 
 and more bewildered by the, to him, 
 strange manoeuvre. Every sportsman 
 knows that when a covey of partridges 
 settles in the middle of a field of turnips, 
 no matter how wild they are, they can 
 always be approached by walking round 
 and round them, gradually narrowing the 
 circle, and when flushed they will get up 
 singly or in pairs, screaming and twisting 
 in their attempts to escape. 
 
 When about 200 yards distant from the 
 gun they fired grape at us ; we closed on 
 
ch. in.] A Narrow Escape. ji 
 
 our centre, leaving a gap for the fire of 
 the gun, charged, and in a few moments 
 took the gun. A revolver given me by 
 my father saved my life, for being a fast 
 runner, and from my position in front 
 having a start, I was over the bank on 
 the left just before my Captain jumped in 
 on the right, and was brought up by a 
 huge horse-pistol held to my forehead. I 
 fired instantly, not aiming, and the bullet 
 went through my assailant's heart, the 
 discharge of his pistol blowing off my 
 solar topee. All the Sepoys but one in 
 charge of that gun died at their post ; 
 the one who ran away was pursued by 
 Nicholson, who overtook him, and rising 
 in his stirrups dealt him such a mighty 
 blow that he actually severed the man in 
 two ! It is curious to relate that Nichol- 
 son, who hated Sepoys 1 with a hatred that 
 
 1 By " Sepoy " is meant the old Company's Sepoy. 
 Nicholson loved his Mooltanees, Pathans, and Afreedis. 
 
72 A Miss. [ch. in. 
 
 no words could describe, not only had 
 them buried according to the rites of the 
 Mussulman religion, but actually raised 
 a monument on the spot where the de- 
 fenders of the gun fell, and placed an 
 inscription on it, testifying his regard for 
 their valour. The clearing of the island 
 was speedily accomplished ; most of the 
 Sepoys sought for safety in the swollen 
 waters of the Ravee and found death, 
 only a very few being captured and of 
 course shot. 
 
 One or two incidents however oc- 
 curred : the first was when one of our 
 supports reached us they perceived a 
 figure standing on the edge of the river ; 
 excitement multiplied the solitary figure 
 into many, and the company deploying 
 into line fired a volley. When the smoke 
 cleared away the figure was still there, 
 untouched, uninjured, and a closer ex- 
 
ch. in.] A Hit. 73 
 
 amination revealed the fact that there 
 were two persons — one a woman, and the 
 other a baby in arms. The other incident 
 happened in this wise : a lot of us 
 youngsters saw a small house, one of 
 the few dwelling-places situated on the 
 island, and to it we repaired to see what 
 was inside. There was nothing visible, 
 the one room of the little house was 
 empty ; the room had a plank ceiling, and 
 while we were standing about talking 
 some one heard or thought he heard a 
 noise above the planks. Placing there- 
 fore his revolver in a crack of the planks 
 he fired, and on search discovered he had 
 killed a Sepoy who had selected that 
 place for his refuge, and would doubtless 
 have escaped had not nature compelled 
 him to reveal himself. 
 
 Almost directly after this we were 
 ordered to march down to Delhi, and 
 
74 All Depends on Delhi, [ch. m. 
 
 we were all much rejoiced, for the 
 weariness of the constant marching 
 backwards and forwards in the Punjaub 
 was very trying, and we were longing to 
 be present at the place where the great 
 drama was to be played out. Everyone 
 knew that whether India was to be held 
 or whether it would have to be recon- 
 quered depended on the taking of Delhi. 
 If we failed, the whole country would have 
 risen in arms against us, whereas at 
 present only the Sepoys had risen. 
 
en. iv.] Letter on the March. 75 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 11 Hearken to the steady stamp ! 
 Mars is in their every tramp ; 
 Not a step is out of tune." 
 
 The Deformed Transformed. 
 
 On July 27, a letter written from 
 Camp, Kurtalpore, says: "We are long- 
 ing to hear how you take this Mutiny 
 in England. I suppose people will say, 
 Oh, Delhi can't stand a week. How 
 sold they will be ! they have been 
 besieging Delhi two months now and 
 cannot take it. We march to Jullundur 
 to-night. We are just in camp and have 
 got our tents pitched, and had something 
 to eat. The wind is blowing deliciously — 
 if it only would not blow my paper about, 
 and it is so very hard to write on one's 
 bed. I hope it won't rain very hard 
 to-day, as my tent is on low ground, and 
 
j6 The Mild Hindoo. [ch. iv. 
 
 two hours will make it a swamp. As we 
 were marching this morning, it was pitch 
 dark, and I could not see where I was 
 going. I suddenly found myself head 
 over ears in water — a pleasant thing, 
 certainly, when I had to march on in 
 these wet things. Our army before 
 Delhi is in a dreadful state — nothing to 
 drink. The water cannot be drunk 
 there. Beer is 28 rupees {£2 165.) 
 a dozen, and soda-water about six 
 shillings a dozen. We are buying up 
 everything for the mess as we go down, 
 both eatables and drinkables. 
 
 M We have just been reading a letter in 
 the Times about ' the mild and ductile 
 Hindoo ! ' The atrocities they have com- 
 mitted beat everything that has ever been 
 heard of; the other day the niggers took 
 a man prisoner, and drew all his nails out, 
 and then boiled him alive in oil ! I most 
 
ch. iv.] A Free Passage. yy 
 
 sincerely trust that the order given when 
 we attack Delhi will be what was given 
 to us on the 12th — ' Kill every one ; no 
 quarter is to be given.' I hear they 
 offered to treat with the King of Delhi 
 for terms, and his answer was : ' Free 
 passage for all Europeans to Calcutta.' ! 
 
 " One of our men named Kingsley, 
 who is the tallest man in the regiment, 
 volunteered last night to carry the fire- 
 lock and ammunition of a comrade who 
 was not well. His rear-rank man heard 
 the men approve this action, and say 
 what a good thing it was to be so tall 
 and so strong, and sung out : * Here, 
 one of you fellows hand me your musket 
 and ammunition.' When he had got 
 them, he marched along with his double 
 load, and said : * These long fellows 
 
 1 It will be remembered that the Nana made a similar 
 offer to General Wheeler before the Cawnpore Massacre. 
 
7& Carrying the Colours [ch. iv. 
 
 shan't have it all their own way; I'll 
 show you that a little 'un is as good as 
 they ! ' The small man is my soldier 
 servant, called Howorth, and comes from 
 Lancashire." 
 
 From the day we started from our 
 station at Sealkote in May* until our 
 arrival in the camp before Delhi on 
 August 14, we had marched altogether 
 goo miles, and only in the latter part of 
 the journey were there any conveyances ; 
 then we had bullock carts for just half 
 the regiment, so half were carried, and 
 the other half walked. Officers and men 
 were served alike ; for instance, there 
 was one bullock cart allotted to eight 
 subalterns, the cart held four. The first 
 night we had this cart we put the 
 colours into it, as the carrying them was 
 very wearisome, for, besides being heavy, 
 they were so unwieldy. All went well 
 
ch. iv.] In a Bullock Cart. 79 
 
 that night, but the next evening, when 
 we were putting them in the cart, the 
 Colonel appeared, with " What, put the 
 colours of my regiment in a bullock 
 cart ! " We were ordered instantly to 
 take them out, and for the rest of the 
 journey they were duly carried. 
 
 The most irksome duty we had was 
 treasure guard ; the troops before Delhi 
 had no money, and so we brought them 
 down a considerable amount. This 
 treasure, all in rupees, was carried on 
 camels, and a guard of 100 men with a 
 Captain and subaltern had to march 
 with the camels. Now, a camel is a 
 useful beast of burden, but he is a beast 
 in more senses than one to march with, 
 for his pace is two miles an hour, the 
 most wearisome pace in the world. No 
 one who has ever marched for twenty 
 miles with camels — keeping pace, that is 
 
So Matching and Music, [en. iv. 
 
 to say, with them — is ever likely to forget 
 his experience. The treasure guard always 
 started first and always got into camp 
 last. Then, all day long, sentries had 
 to be visited, guards inspected, until the 
 happy time arrived when the relief came, 
 and the boxes of rupees were handed over 
 to some one else's custody. 
 
 Our regular marches, before the forced 
 ones, were very different. As a general 
 rule we marched between 12 and 1 a.m., 
 our band playing us out of camp on to 
 the Trunk Road with " The girl I left 
 behind me ; " then the order was given to 
 11 March at ease," " March easy." The 
 men used to sling their firelocks over their 
 shoulders and smoke their pipes. The 
 band used to go on playing, and when the 
 bandsmen were tired, our bugle band 
 would take it up and play away. When 
 they had finished, some individual, some- 
 
ch. iv.] Coffee Shop and Songs. 8i 
 
 where in the centre of the regiment, would 
 start a song, and so the hours whiled 
 away till " coffee shop." Half way along 
 the line of march we always halted for 
 half an hour ; the men had rum served 
 out to them, and the officers used to have 
 coffee as well as other things. One of 
 the favourite songs was of a most revolu- 
 tionary character ; it had about 30 verses 
 and a long chorus. I forget the song, but 
 I recollect that " Confound our officers! " 
 held a place in the chorus, and used to be 
 lustily shouted. At first the men would 
 not sing this song — they thought it would 
 hurt our feelings, but it had so good a 
 tune that nearly every night one of our 
 Captains would call for it. One capital 
 song began — 
 
 " For our broadswords shall glitter, and our grape-shot 
 shall fly, 
 Before the French shall come and drink old England 
 dry. 
 
 {Chorus) Drink old England dry." 
 
82 Merrily Through the Night, [ch. iv. 
 
 Another was — 
 
 " As we were marching down the street 
 We heard the people say, 
 There goes a gallant regiment ; 
 They are now marching away. 
 
 Away go those brave heroes, 
 The like we never see more, 
 
 And with them goes the light bobbee, 
 The lad that I adore." 
 
 And one more — 
 
 " Neither pot nor pipe shall grieve me, 
 Nor yet disturb my mind, 
 When I come rolling home 
 To the girl I left behind. 
 
 {Chorus) Happy is the girl that will keep me 
 When I come rolling- home." 
 
 '& 
 
 Coffee-shop over, there was more music, 
 and so the march went merrily on through 
 the night hours, for soon after we saw the 
 great round red sun loom upwards from 
 the horizon we reached the camp, which 
 was always nearly ready. The first thing 
 to be done was a good wash, to get rid 
 of the dust of the march, and then every 
 one turned in to sleep. At first we used 
 
ch. iv.] The Heat of the Day. 83 
 
 to sleep on our beds, but we soon gave 
 this up, the heat was too great, 130° 
 Fahr. We used to sleep under our beds 
 to keep the heat of the sun off. 
 
 One day, while we were all asleep, a 
 tremendous rain-storm burst over us. 
 We were awakened by getting wet, and 
 soon the camp was alive with everyone in 
 all kinds of costume, searching for and 
 occasionally pursuing down some rivulet 
 their shoes, stockings, and other garments 
 which had been left on the ground in the 
 tent. About 12.30 we began to get up, 
 and 1 to 1.30 found us all gathered 
 together in the big mess tent, the tem- 
 perature of which, by the aid of tatties, 
 we managed to keep down to 120°, for 
 breakfast. 
 
 Amongst us youngsters, after breakfast, 
 the question was "What shall we do?" 
 Some one, who was supposed to know — 
 
 g 2 
 
84 A Duty Ride [ch. iv. 
 
 who it was I know not — had said that the 
 sun in India never hurt anyone during 
 his first year : the amount of cool blood 
 in our veins was enough to counteract 
 any extra heating power. Anyway, 
 whether this dictum was true or not, 
 nearly every fine day, and we had plenty 
 of them, some of us, and I always 
 amongst the number, used to get on our 
 ponies about 3 p.m. and scour the sur- 
 rounding country in search of antelope, 
 nylghau, or even the familiar pariah dog; 
 the two former we tried to shoot ; I think 
 we once got a blue bull ; the latter — and 
 they never failed us — we used to try 
 and stick with spears. On one occasion 
 we had a duty ride ; it was during the 
 forced march, bullocks for the carts were 
 wanted, and volunteers were asked for to 
 procure some. Another youngster and I 
 started off to a village some miles from 
 
ch. iv.] After Bullocks. 85 
 
 the line of march ; we could neither of us 
 speak Hindustani, our knowledge of the 
 language being confined to a very few 
 words. However, we wrote down what 
 we were to ask for, and after a little 
 practice got the pronunciation right. 
 Thus armed we arrived at the village, a 
 very fair sized one ; we at once asked for 
 the head man, and on his appearance 
 read him our demand. He made us 
 understand that he had no bullocks, and 
 could not get any. We knew that this 
 was untrue, and again and again re- 
 peated our demand. By this time a 
 considerable crowd had collected round 
 us, and we noticed that they all carried 
 long bamboos shod with iron. They were 
 closing in upon us and the headman, 
 and the situation was getting dangerous. 
 M How are we ever going to get out of 
 this?" asked my companion. I told him 
 
86 Where we Fail [ch. m 
 
 we had better ride at them as hard as 
 we could, and so try and get through. 
 Accident, however, came to our aid and 
 saved us ; for to ride through the circle 
 would have been impossible ; we were 
 both unarmed, save for our riding crops. 
 As I turned to speak to my companion, 
 I put my hand on my horse's back just 
 behind the saddle, the horse resented this 
 with a kick ; here then was our oppor- 
 tunity, and I was not slow to avail myself 
 of it. Iron-shod heels v. iron-shod 
 bamboos ! The heels won easily, the 
 circle widened and widened until at last 
 I could suspend the provocation to kick, 
 and we rode away without our bullocks 
 but with whole skins. 
 
 As a sequel to the story, when we 
 returned to camp, and told our story, a 
 few Pathans succeeded where we had 
 failed ; their persuasions, however, were 
 
ch. iv.] Others Succeed. 87 
 
 of such a pressing nature, that that par- 
 ticular headman ruled no more over the 
 destinies of that village. 
 
 At 6 p.m. there used to be a short 
 parade, and at 7.30 we were all gathered 
 together round the mess table for dinner. 
 While that meal was in progress, camp 
 was struck and the camels loaded to be 
 sent forward in readiness for the next day. 
 The mess tent was the last to be taken 
 down. After dinner we lay down on the 
 ground, wet or dry, to smoke our pipes 
 and get some two hours' sleep before 
 resuming the march. 
 
 One night we were all waiting for 
 our dinner and none appeared, messengers 
 were sent to the cooking tent, but only 
 brought back word that dinner was 
 coming, till about half an hour after the 
 appointed time, Nicholson, who always 
 dined with us, came on the scene, with 
 
88 A Late Dinner. [ch. iv. 
 
 " I am sorry, Gentlemen, to have kept 
 you waiting for your dinner, but I have 
 been hanging your cooks ! " 
 
 We soon learnt the story. One of the 
 cook boys, whose conscience revolted 
 at wholesale murder, went to Nicholson 
 and told him that the soup was poisoned 
 with aconite. Nicholson kept the boy 
 safe until just before dinner was to be 
 served, when he sent for and arrested 
 the cooks. The soup was brought in 
 with the cooks. Nicholson told one 
 of the cooks to eat some ; the cook 
 protested, on the ground of caste. 
 Nicholson knew that a Mussulman had 
 no caste, and peremptorily ordered the 
 cook to swallow some, telling him at the 
 same time that he, Nicholson, knew it 
 was poisoned ; of course the cook 
 denied this. Nicholson then had a small 
 monkey brought in, and some of the soup 
 
ch. iv.] Cooks Up a Tree. 89 
 
 poured down its throat. In a few 
 minutes the truth of the cook boy's story 
 was seen — the little monkey was dying of 
 poison. Sentence of death was at once 
 passed, and a few minutes afterward our 
 regimental cooks were ornamenting a 
 neighbouring tree. 
 
 At a camping ground, either the next or 
 the one after this incident — anyway, it was 
 on August 10 — we halted for a night after 
 a very long and trying march. The place 
 we were at was a noted place for thieves, 
 and we were all duly warned to be extra 
 careful that night. Among the regimental 
 possessions were two bull-dogs, the pro- 
 perty of one of the officers, and we sur- 
 mised that the thieves, if they had any 
 intention of paying us a nocturnal visit, 
 would certainly take the precaution of 
 ascertaining if there were any dogs about, 
 and if so, where they were located, and 
 
90 A Night Thief. [ch. iv. 
 
 would avoid that particular tent. The 
 result proved the correctness of our sur- 
 mise. When night came, the dogs were 
 separated, and placed in two tents differ- 
 ent from the one they had occupied during 
 the day. About i a.m. a tremendous noise 
 was heard, and " Billy," the plate-faced 
 bull-dog, was found with his teeth fixed 
 in the throat of a thief in one of the tents. 
 The man, naked as he was born, and oiled 
 all over, had crept through the line of 
 sentries into camp, through the native 
 servants, who lay round the tents and in- 
 side the tent, to steal what he could find ; 
 he was unarmed, save for a long knife 
 he carried in his hand, with which 
 he had wounded " Billy," though not 
 seriously. 
 
 Years after I happened, while shoot- 
 ing, to come across one of these thief 
 villages. The inhabitants were all 
 
ch. iv.] Shooting Episode. 91 
 
 thieves, and were all trained to their 
 work as children by the " Fagin " of the 
 place. I had a good many deer on 
 the elephants when I arrived at the 
 village, and not wanting so much fresh 
 meat for the camp, I distributed what 
 there was to spare among the people who 
 had come up to see the camp and the 
 stranger Englishman who had come to 
 invade their jungle solitude. That night, 
 my bearer told me that we had indeed 
 " fallen among thieves," so I ordered 
 men to walk round and round my tent 
 in order to guard it, the men to be re- 
 lieved every two hours. In the morning 
 I was pleased to find that nothing was 
 missing. Next evening, as I was sitting 
 by my fire after the day's shooting, the 
 head man of the village came up and 
 entered into conversation with me. After 
 a bit it took this turn. 
 
92 A Challenge. [ch. iv. 
 
 " Why did the Sahib guard his tent last 
 night ? " 
 
 tl Because I heard that there were many 
 thieves in the village." 
 
 11 Did the Sahib think that those guards 
 would protect him ? " 
 
 I told him that of course I did. The man 
 smiled and told me that the meat I had 
 given them protected me ; that having 
 partaken of my hospitality they would 
 not rob me. I was then incredulous 
 and told the man as much, upon which 
 he said that he would, if I liked, give 
 an object lesson, and that they would take 
 anything I chose to name out of my tent 
 that night — of course restoring it next 
 morning. I accepted the challenge, and 
 named my watch under my pillow, saying 
 that I would not hold myself responsible 
 for any damage that might happen to the 
 thief, and that if I found him out I would 
 
ch. iv.] " If He Bungles." 93 
 
 certainly shoot him. The head man 
 assented, saying that if the thief bungled, 
 it would serve him right to be shot. He 
 then told me a good deal of their ways, of 
 how they passed stolen property on from 
 one hand to another by means of runners 
 through the jungle, till they got it safely 
 into the receiver's hands. " But are not," 
 I asked, " your runners ever killed by 
 tigers in the jungle at night?" He said 
 such a thing had never happened, and 
 accounted for this immunity by the fact 
 that the smell of the oiled preparation 
 with which their bodies were anointed so 
 jarred upon the tiger's olfactory nerves 
 that he left them alone. That night my 
 guards were all duly warned that an 
 attempt would certainly be made, and a 
 promise of liberal backsheesh was made 
 for detection or prevention. Of course 
 in the morning my watch was missing, 
 
94 We Cross a Bridge. [ch. iv. 
 
 and of course it was duly restored to me 
 by a young thief who was brought into 
 my presence by the head man, and 
 who, if his dark skin had permitted, 
 would doubtless have blushed when I 
 complimented him on his adroitness 
 and rewarded him duly for his dex- 
 terity. 
 
 On July 26th we had again to cross 
 the Beas river. The engineers reported 
 the bridge of boats fairly safe ; it might 
 last long enough for us to go over, it 
 might go at any moment. We were 
 ordered to cross over by companies, and 
 in single file ; this naturally occupied a 
 considerable time. As we went over we 
 could see and feel the boats rising and 
 falling, hear them creaking and grinding 
 together as the swollen river lifted them 
 up or swayed them to and fro ; we all got 
 safely over, and halted on the opposite 
 
ch. iv.] The Elephants Decline. 95 
 
 bank. The elephants came next ; they 
 tried the bridge before venturing on it, 
 and declined to trust themselves on the 
 frail structure, preferring to go through 
 the river rather than over the bridge. 
 Then came the long procession of camels ; 
 they got over all right, but even our 
 unscientific eyes could see that the 
 boats could not hold together much 
 longer. 
 
 Just then there appeared the convey- 
 ances bearing the native ladies attached 
 to the regiment. The question agitat- 
 ing the mind of Tommy Atkins was, 
 would they or would they not get 
 over ? The ladies were seated in native 
 carts called ekkhas, which carts were 
 drawn by ponies ; the carts had tops 
 to them, and from these tops descended 
 curtains which effectually hid the dusky 
 beauties from the eye of any chance 
 
96 The Bridge Breaks, [ch. iy. 
 
 spectator. Just as the line of carts had 
 safely passed the centre of the bridge, a 
 cry was heard: " It. is gone!" It was 
 too true ; the boats which had faithfully 
 held together during the passage of 
 Her Majesty's soldiers, the camels 
 and the baggage, gave way under the 
 immense responsibility now entrusted 
 to them, and amid despairing cries, 
 boats and ekkhas were borne away 
 by the current of the swollen river. 
 Which bank would they reach ? The 
 eddies of the river might carry the oar- 
 less boats anywhere : they might be carried 
 down to the Indus, they might be taken 
 back to the bank from whence they 
 started, but for once the treacherous 
 eddies proved propitious ; watched by 
 anxious eyes, the boats bearing their 
 precious burdens gradually but surely 
 neared the shore, and as they touched, 
 
ch. iv.] But All Get Over. 97 
 
 many willing hands caught and secured 
 the wandering boats ; the ekkhas were 
 brought safely to land, and the ladies re- 
 stored to their position with the regiment. 
 Five days later we were once again on 
 the banks of the great Sutlej river. When 
 we had last seen it on June 25, there 
 were wide reaches of sand down to the 
 stream itself; and it was spanned by a 
 bridge of boats. Now the river was bank 
 full, the bridge of boats gone, and we had 
 to cross over in boats. It was raining 
 heavily all day long, the tremendous 
 current swept us all down, some boats 
 going two to three miles down stream ; 
 some of our baggage was carried so far 
 down that it was three days before we 
 saw it again, and when we did get it every 
 thing was soaked through. After crossing 
 we marched to Loodiana, where we halted 
 till August 3. 
 
 H 
 
98 We Approach Delhi. [ch. iv. 
 
 On August 11 we were within three 
 marches of Delhi, and could hear the 
 cannonading quite plainly. A day or two 
 before, Nicholson had left us and had 
 ridden on to Delhi to confer with General 
 Wilson ; the object of his visit to the 
 camp was to advise that on the arrival 
 of his force, the city should be assaulted 
 immediately. Unfortunately this advice 
 was not taken ; had it been, we certainly 
 should not have suffered as we did. The 
 regiment was 680 strong; the men, all 
 old soldiers, were seasoned by the march- 
 ing we had gone through, for including 
 halts, we had averaged eleven miles a day 
 since we started. 1 We had with us one 
 
 MILES 1 MILES 
 
 1 May 2 5, Left Sealkote. 
 
 36, Camp . .15 
 
 27, Wuzeerabad . 14 
 
 June 1, Moodkee Serai 19 
 2, Anarkullee 
 
 (Lahore) . 18 
 
 10, Carnp . . 19 
 
 June 11, Umritzur (halt 
 
 4 days) . . 17 
 15, Jundiala . .11 
 
 17, Reyah . . 12 
 
 18, Gorana (cross 
 
 Beas) . . 9 
 
 19, Kurtalpoor. . 10 
 
ch. iv.] Strength of Our Force. 
 
 99 
 
 wing of H.M.'s 6ist, the 2nd Punjaub 
 Infantry, the 4th Sikh Infantry, the 17th 
 Light Field Battery, one wing of the 7th 
 Punjaub Police Battalion,- and last, but 
 not least, the 250 Mooltanee Horse. No 
 doubt the contest would have been 
 severe, no doubt we should have lost 
 
 
 MILES 
 
 1 
 
 MILES 
 
 June 20, Jullundur (halt 
 
 July 23, Umritzur 
 
 . II 
 
 
 3 days) . 12 
 
 24, Jundiala 
 
 . II 
 
 
 24, Phugwarra . .11 
 
 25, Reyah 
 
 . 12 
 
 
 25, Phillor (halt 3 
 
 26, Gorana (cross 
 
 
 days) . .12 
 
 Beas) 
 
 • 9 
 
 
 30, Phugwarra. . 12 
 
 27, Kurtalpoor 
 
 . 10 
 
 July 
 
 I, Jullundur . 11 
 
 28, Jullundur . 
 
 . 12 
 
 
 2, Kurtalpoor. . 12 
 
 29, Phugwarra 
 
 . II 
 
 
 3, Gorana . . 10 
 
 30, Phillor 
 
 . 12 
 
 
 4, Reyah (cross 
 
 3r, Loodiana (cross 
 
 
 Beas) . . 9 
 
 Sutlej) . 
 
 • 9 
 
 
 5, Jundiala . . 12 
 
 Aug. 3, Bara . 
 
 • 3* 
 
 
 6, Umritzur (halt 
 
 4, Rajpoora 
 
 . 19 
 
 
 4 days) . .11 
 
 5, Umballa 
 
 • 15 
 
 
 11, Godaspore 42 \ 
 
 6, Shahbad . 
 
 • 13 
 
 
 12, Trimmoo Ghaut I 
 
 7, Peeplee 
 
 • 13 
 
 
 and back 24 J 
 
 8, Kurnaul . 
 
 . 19 
 
 July 
 
 15, Trimmoo Ghaut 1 2 
 
 9, Paniput 
 
 . 18 
 
 
 17, Godaspore 
 
 10, Sursowlee 
 
 • 23 
 
 
 (halt 2 days). 12 
 
 12, Rhae . 
 
 . 12 
 
 
 20, Camp . . . 10 
 
 13, Alipore . 
 
 . IO 
 
 
 21, Buttala . . 10 
 
 14, Delhi . 
 
 . IO 
 
 
 22, Camp . . . 11 
 
 
 
 H 2 
 
ioo Disastrous Delay. [ch. iv. 
 
 many men, but we were commanded by 
 a man we knew and loved, whose presence 
 was a tower of strength, and whom our 
 men would have followed anywhere. 
 
 The month's delay in the camp before 
 Delhi was most disastrous to us. On 
 Sept. 6, only 20 days after our arrival, 
 we had 340 men in hospital, chiefly with 
 fever, and had buried many from cholera. 
 
 A letter written from Sursowlee, August 
 11, says : " I am pretty well, much better 
 than I expected to be, but rather fagged 
 with the marching ; not getting a night 
 in bed is hard work anytime, but worse 
 here, as the days are too hot to sleep long 
 or well. It is certain now we are not to 
 attack Delhi by assault, but to wait for 
 Sir Patrick Grant's force, which is coming 
 up country." 
 

 ch. v.] Before the City. ioi 
 
 a 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 His name was not stamped on those balls of lead." 
 
 Victor Galbraith. 
 
 On August 14 we marched into camp ; 
 two or three bands came out to meet us 
 and played us in. We brought down 
 some siege guns, a quantity of military 
 stores, and 9 lacs of rupees (£go,ooo). . 
 
 As soon as we fell out I saw 
 
 waiting for me, and he carried me off 
 to breakfast with him ; breakfast over, 
 he proposed a ride round to show me the 
 pickets, assuring me that the journey 
 was perfectly safe. I soon noticed that 
 the city seemed nearer, but my com- 
 panion allayed all suspicion by telling 
 me that there was a picket of our men 
 
I ( 
 
 <■ '. < 
 
 I ( I 
 
 I < I. 
 
 I . 
 
 < ' 
 
 ( ( ( (I 
 
 1 02 Fatalism [ch. v. 
 
 in front at Metcalfe's house, whom we 
 were en route to visit. Suddenly I heard 
 the ping of a bullet, quickly followed by 
 a second and a third, making the dust 
 fly just before me on the road. I said, 
 il Hulloa, what does this mean ? " 
 
 " Oh, it is only the rifle-pits; we are 
 just on their line of fire." 
 
 On hearing this, and seeing the picket 
 just in front, I whipped up my steed 
 and galloped into safety. When there, 
 I turned round and saw my late com- 
 panion, off his horse picking up my whip, 
 which I had dropped, and then slowly 
 remounting walk his horse into the 
 
 picket. was one of those men who 
 
 carried into practice the adage : " If I 
 am going to be shot, I shall be shot." 
 In the course of my life I have often 
 heard men say this, though I have never 
 met but three men who lived up to this 
 
ch. v.] Combined with Pluck. 103 
 
 fatalist doctrine. I well remember ask- 
 ing : " Were you ever afraid ? " and 
 
 his answer was, " Once. It was when 
 we first came down here ; I was General 
 Barnard's orderly for the day, and I had 
 fifty men of the gth Lancers with me ; 
 when we came to the ' Ridge ' we saw 
 a lot of rebel cavalry on it, and I said 
 to the General, ' I think, sir, I could clear 
 that lot out. May I try ? ' He answered, 
 ■ You are a gallant fellow ; go and try, by 
 all means, but don't run too much risk.' 
 Well, I started off, and the rebels, evi- 
 dently not liking the look of us, bolted ; 
 we pursued them, when I suddenly saw 
 them disappear behind a line of infantry 
 who were drawn up just by Hindoo Rao's 
 house ; of course I was not going to stop 
 for a lot of niggers, but for a moment 
 I did think, Suppose the beggars stand ? 
 However, they broke and bolted, and we 
 
104 A Lucky Escape. [ch. v. 
 
 got back all right ; but if they had stood 
 it would have been nasty." 
 
 On another occasion we were together 
 in one of the siege batteries ; a live shell 
 came in and began burying itself in the 
 
 ground. Everybody except went 
 
 down. I was face uppermost, and called 
 
 out, " Lie down, you fool ! " merely 
 
 removed his cigar from his lips and said, 
 u I am not going to put myself out for 
 
 " The sentence was never finished, 
 
 for at that moment the shell exploded, a 
 fragment of it actually tearing off a piece 
 of his trousers ; he exultingly pointed 
 this out in justification of the adage 
 quoted above. Stories innumerable 
 might be told of this man, whose ex- 
 periences were not confined to India, 
 and whose reckless daring is the subject 
 of many a tale. The other man who 
 lived up to this theory had had even 
 
ch. v.] Lighting a Cigar. 105 
 
 a wider experience than . I well 
 
 remember seeing him stand in the middle 
 of a street, down which a heavy fire was 
 pouring, calmly lighting a cigar. I was 
 under shelter. I called out to him to 
 come under cover ; he looked up and 
 said, " How often have I told you 
 youngster that if I am to be shot I 
 shall be shot, whether I am where I am 
 or under cover ? " and then, taking out . 
 another match, he proceeded to finish the 
 lighting process which I had interrupted. 
 The third instance occurred on the 
 day we assaulted Delhi ; it took place 
 at the Delhi Bank. The Bank house 
 was surrounded by a large garden, and 
 opened out on the Chandi Chouk, the 
 principal street in Delhi, by means of 
 a wide walled passage. The regiment 
 was holding the passage, and a good 
 many of us were in the garden behind 
 
106 An Exposed Position. [ch. v. 
 
 the passage. The houses of the Chandi 
 Chouk were thickly lined by the rebels, 
 who kept up a constant and harassing 
 fire upon us. Seated on the steps of the 
 Bank was one of my greatest friends, 
 a man I had known for many years. 
 He did not belong to the regiment ; he 
 was sitting between two other men. I 
 was standing near, but, owing to the 
 passage, I was sheltered from the fire 
 that came from the opposite houses, 
 whereas they were directly exposed to 
 it ; they, however, had one advantage 
 that I had not, a fairly comfortable seat. 
 We had been talking for some time, 
 when suddenly some bullets struck the 
 masonry above where they were sitting. 
 Hitherto the fire from the opposite 
 houses had been directed on the men 
 in the walled passage, but it was now 
 evident that the Sepoys had perceived 
 
ch. v.] Sir Theophilus Metcalfe. 107 
 
 the men who were sitting on the steps 
 of the Bank, and were directing their fire 
 upon them. Seeing this, I urged my 
 friend to change his exposed position, 
 and come under the shelter of the wall. 
 He replied with the saying already 
 quoted. Hardly had he spoken when his 
 two companions, one on each side of 
 him, were simultaneously killed, one of 
 them being struck by no less than seven 
 bullets, the other with two ; this was, of 
 course, regarded by my friend as proof 
 positive of the truth of his theory. 
 
 The picket I visited, as described 
 above, was on our extreme left ; it bore 
 the name of Metcalfe's house picket, and 
 had been the residence of Sir Theophilus 
 Metcalfe during the time he was agent 
 to the Governor-General of India at the 
 Court of the Great Mogul. 1 Sir T. Met- 
 
 1 He was also Deputy Commissioner of Delhi. 
 
io8 Remains at His Post. [ch. v. 
 
 calfe accompanied the regiment to show 
 us the way through the city on the day of 
 the assault of Delhi. Twice I was privi- 
 leged to hear him tell the story of his 
 wonderful escape : the first time was at 
 our mess-table, the second in a London 
 drawing-room. The story was, that when 
 the Mutiny broke out in Delhi, Sir T. 
 Metcalfe stuck to his post until almost 
 too late. It was not until the rebel 
 cavalry were at the house that he escaped 
 from a side door, and mounting his horse, 
 which, owing to the forethought of his 
 native servants, stood ready saddled, rode 
 away to seek for safety. 
 
 His escape was at once perceived, 
 and he was chased by the troopers. 
 At first he gained upon them, but he 
 soon discovered that his horse was 
 not in good condition ; he felt it was 
 failing him, and he realised that unless 
 
CH.V.J The Man oh the Road. 109 
 
 events took some unexpected turn, he 
 must be captured by his pursuers. At 
 this juncture he saw a man on the road, 
 and, pulling up, dismounted. He told 
 the man that he was being pursued, and 
 asked for a hiding-place, so that he could 
 escape. Sir T. Metcalfe's own words, as 
 well as I recollect them, were: " The 
 man on this showed me a cave by the 
 side of the road and told me to enter, 
 saying he would save me if he could ; 
 he took my horse, and I went into the 
 cave. It appears that he led the horse 
 some little distance down the road, and 
 then returned to near the entrance of the 
 cave. My pursuers were not far behind, 
 for I soon heard their horses coming 
 along. Then I heard them interrogate 
 my friend as to whether he had seen an 
 Englishman on a horse go that way. 
 He protested that he had seen no one. 
 
no The Red Devil [ch. v. 
 
 They then went on, but soon returned, 
 saying that they had found my horse, 
 and consequently that I could not be far 
 off. One of them must have noticed the 
 entrance to the cave, for I heard him say, 
 ' Perhaps he is in that cave/ My friend 
 vehemently denied the possibility of this, 
 and declared that for many hours he had 
 been in his present position, and had 
 seen no one. It was evident that they 
 did not believe him, for I heard them say, 
 ' At any rate, we will search it.' On this 
 my friend burst out laughing, and raising 
 his voice so that I must hear, he said, 
 1 Oh, yes, search the cave ; do search it, 
 but I'll tell you what you will find. You 
 will find a great red devil in there ; he 
 lives up at the end of the cave. You 
 won't be able to see him, because the 
 cave turns at the end, and the devil 
 always stands just round the turn, and 
 
ch. v.] In TV ant of Food. i i i 
 
 he has got a great long knife in his hand, 
 and the moment your head appears 
 round the corner he will slice it off, and 
 then he will pull the body in to him and 
 eat it. Go in, do go in ; the poor devil 
 is hungry. It is three weeks since he 
 had anything to eat, and then it was only 
 a goat ; he loves men, does this red devil, 
 and if you all go he will have such a 
 meal/ 
 
 " I knew that I was intended to hear 
 this, and to shape my action on what 
 I had heard. I found that the cave 
 turned at the end at right angles for a 
 very short distance, leaving, however, 
 plenty of room for a man to stand. Of 
 course I knew how superstitious natives 
 are, and how, above all things, they 
 dread the unseen powers of darkness. 
 I therefore drew my sword and waited. 
 After more talking outside, my friend, 
 
H2 The Sword Breaks. [ch. v. 
 
 who knew that the only way he could 
 prevent them searching the cave was by 
 frightening them, constantly urged them 
 to go in and see the red devil. Some of 
 them plucked up courage and entered. 
 The cave was so narrow that they could 
 only come up in single file. As soon as 
 the first man came within my reach I 
 struck at him with all my force. The 
 blow fell straight, his head rolled from 
 his body, and with a yell of terror, his 
 companions fled out of the darkness. 
 Lucky for me they did, for my sword had 
 broken short off, and only the hilt re- 
 mained in my hand. Mindful of my 
 friend's warning, I lost no time in 
 pulling the body of the fallen man into 
 the recess. Their retreat out of the cave 
 was the signal for a fresh outburst from 
 my friend, who taunted them with : ' Go 
 in, you will find Metcalfe there ; if you 
 
ch. v.] They Ride Away. 113 
 
 don't, you will find the red devil.' * Did 
 you see him ? ' ' Isn't he beautiful ? ' 
 1 Don't his eyes shine nice and red ? ' 
 1 Do go back, he wants more than one ; 
 perhaps he has got two, for if Metcalfe 
 went in he has eaten him.' 
 
 " But they had had enough ; nothing 
 would induce another man to enter. One 
 of those who had fled declared that he 
 had seen the red devil — probably to 
 excuse the shame of his own flight, and 
 this assertion finally decided the matter, 
 and they rode away. When night had 
 come my friend came to me, lodged me 
 in his own house, and after some days 
 announced to me that all was ready for 
 my safe journey to Kurnaul. I left the 
 man, assuring him of my gratitude, and 
 telling him that when I had the oppor- 
 tunity that gratitude should be substan- 
 tially expressed. When I took leave of 
 
1 1 4 Why He was Sa fed. [ch. v, 
 
 my host, I asked him : ' Why did you 
 save my life ? ' 
 
 u l Because you are a just and honest 
 man.' 
 
 u l How do you know that I am a just 
 and honest man ? I have never seen you 
 before this/ 
 
 " ' Oh, yes, you have,' was the answer, 
 1 You decided a case against me in your 
 Court. I and all my family had fought 
 that case through all the inferior Courts, 
 and had won by lying, but you found us 
 out ; you saw we were lying, and you 
 gave judgment against us. If you had 
 given the case for me I would not have 
 saved your life.' M 
 
J * 
 
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 J J J J 
 
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 J J J J 
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 tit lit 
 
 c 1 I 
 
ch. vi.] On Picket. 115 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 1 ' Men will forget what we suffer and not what we do. We 
 
 can fight. 
 But to be soldier all day and be sentinel all thro' the night, 
 Ever the mine and assault, our sallies, their lying alarms, 
 Bugles and drums in the darkness, and shoutings and 
 
 soundings to arms — 
 Ever the labour of fifty that had to be done by five. " 
 
 Defence of Lucknow. 
 
 At 4 a.m. on the morning of August 
 19 I went on picket to the Subzi-mundi ; 
 this was on the extreme right of our 
 position and was garrisoned by a cap- 
 tain's picket of 100 men. The building 
 we occupied was a native staging-house, 
 a large square building with an imposing 
 gateway, opening into a large square 
 courtyard entirely surrounded by little 
 archways, each archway being the en- 
 trance to a traveller's room, or to what 
 / 12 
 
1 1 6 Visitors from Delhi. [ch. vr. 
 
 we should call a hovel ; the officers with 
 the picket each had one of these, while 
 the men were distributed in fours, two on 
 duty, two in the hovel. The roof of these 
 hovels was flat, and protection from the 
 fire of the enemy was afforded by sand- 
 bags placed along the top. 
 
 About 5 a.m., when on the top of the 
 building, my attention was directed to 
 three figures coming along the road from 
 the city. I directed my glasses upon 
 them, and soon saw that the two men and 
 the boy were certainly not coming to us 
 with any hostile intention, for they were 
 unarmed, and they were hurrying along 
 as fast as they could, constantly glancing 
 backward, evidently fearful of something 
 or some one behind them. I told the 
 men not to fire upon them, and went 
 down to the large gate that opened out 
 on the road to await their arrival. 
 
ch. vi.] The Sole Survivor. 117 
 
 I had not long to wait before the three 
 presented themselves for admission. I 
 told the sentry to open the gate and let 
 them in. No sooner was this done than 
 the boy ran forward, and throwing his arms 
 about my neck, kissed me, said something 
 in English, and then burst into tears. 
 
 I at once took him to my quarters, 
 and after a glass of brandy-and-water the 
 mystery was explained. The boy was a 
 woman ; the sole survivor of the Delhi 
 massacre. She had been saved by the 
 chief Moulvie ; had been in the city for 
 three months and fifteen days, and had at 
 last found the opportunity to escape dis- 
 guised as an Afghan boy. She had to 
 stay with us all day, as owing to the fire 
 from the rifle-pits it was dangerous for 
 any one to leave the picket in daylight. 
 
 As poor Mrs. Leeson grew calmer she 
 told me some of the fearful sights she had 
 
1 1 8 Fighting in Hope £ch. vi. 
 
 witnessed in those awful days. She and 
 some other women took refuge in a cellar; 
 with them were a few men, notably a 
 Baptist missionary. He had been my 
 fellow - passenger on board ship — a very 
 tall and apparently a very powerful man, 
 a bloodless face, grey eyes, broad jaw, 
 and a determined mouth. We youngsters 
 used to try and get a rise out of him on 
 board ship, but never succeeded, and as 
 we thought him an awkward - looking 
 customer we finally left him alone. 
 
 The men had managed to carry some 
 provisions and ammunition into the cellar 
 with them, and so provided they held at 
 bay for some days the horde of desperate, 
 murdering ruffians who attacked them. 
 At last one by one the men fell, the 
 ammunition was exhausted, the dead 
 bodies of the fallen were piled up in front 
 of the cellar as a breastwork, and behind 
 
ch. vi.] Of Succour from Meerut. 119 
 
 that breastwork stood the missionary 
 righting for the women and children who 
 were still alive with him in that pit. 
 
 For three days and three nights did 
 this little band of men guard the women 
 and children, never fainting, never fear- 
 ing, always hoping for the succour that 
 never came, until at last the missionary 
 was left alone with nothing but his sword 
 to protect his charge against the muti- 
 neers. Stripped to the waist, behind 
 the ghastly rampart of dead the hero 
 stood, and for hours this Horatius held 
 his own. At last he fell, shot through 
 the heart, and the blood-thirsty devils 
 poured in. Mrs. Leeson was covered by 
 some of the dead bodies which were 
 thrown down as the mutineers rushed in, 
 and so escaped the doom that was meted 
 out to the survivors. As evening came 
 on she crawled out of her hiding place ; 
 
120 Atrocities in Delhi. [ch. vi. 
 
 she was at once seen and expected im- 
 mediate death, but instead of death she 
 found life, for the man who saw her, 
 whether for past kindnesses or in hope of 
 reward, told her to lie still till he brought 
 her some things in which to disguise her- 
 self; this done he took her to the chief 
 Moulvie's house, where she remained 
 until she made her escape. 
 
 As she went along she saw the mute 
 witnesses of those awful days, the dead 
 bodies of English women who after un- 
 heard-of atrocities had been murdered 
 and hung up on the trees in the city, the 
 headless bodies of young children, and 
 some men's bodies, the latter mutilated 
 beyond all power of recognition. She told 
 us that inside the city there was no alarm 
 whatever on account of the siege ; the 
 defenders felt absolutely secure within 
 their powerful fortifications. They were 
 
ch. vi.] Peshawur Gaol Birds. 121 
 
 daily expecting that an outbreak of 
 cholera or the advent of fresh mutineers, 
 on the scene, would compel the English 
 to break up their camp and retreat to the 
 Himalayas. 
 
 The news that an Englishwoman had 
 escaped from Delhi was speedily sent up 
 to camp, and about twelve o'clock Nichol- 
 son himself came down to the picket. He 
 at once ordered the two Afghans to be 
 brought before him ; he received them in 
 the middle of the square courtyard. He 
 sat on his horse in the full blaze of the 
 sun and earnestly regarded the two men * 
 at last he spoke. 
 
 " You were tried at Peshawur three years 
 ago and convicted of felony and sentenced 
 to fourteen years' imprisonment." 
 
 The man looked up at Nicholson and 
 then fell on his face, exclaiming — 
 
 " My Lord and my God ! " 
 
122 Outbreak of Cholera. [ch. vi. 
 
 Nicholson then addressed the second 
 man, detailing to him his crimes and the 
 sentence he was under. He then pros- 
 trated himself. Then Nicholson told 
 them to rise, and said to them, that as 
 they had saved this woman's life and 
 brought her in safety, their lives which 
 were forfeit would be spared on condition 
 that they acted faithfully. He then told 
 them that they would be employed as 
 spies, and said to them — 
 
 11 Do you believe that if you are faith- 
 less to the trust, my arm is long enough 
 to reach you wherever you are ? " 
 
 The men, who were visibly trembling, 
 declared that such was their faith. 
 Once after this it fell to my lot to give 
 one of these men the password in order 
 that he might get safely back from the city. 
 
 On August 20 the cholera, which had 
 been long foretold, burst upon us. Al- 
 
ch. vi.] The First Case. 123 
 
 though cholera is almost unknown in the 
 city of Delhi, its suburbs and the land 
 beyond it are a yearly prey to this fell 
 disease. The safeguard of the city is a 
 ridge of low hills, which causes the 
 miasma that rises from the marshes to 
 be borne over the city. Our camp was 
 pitched on the marsh * side of the ridge. 
 
 On the night of the 20th I had just 
 come in from patrolling in front of the 
 picket, when I heard a man cry out in 
 pain. I at once summoned the apothe- 
 cary who was with the picket, and we 
 made the discovery that it was a case of 
 cholera. Of course I reported the case to 
 the Captain, and he took what steps he 
 could to isolate the case, but it was 
 useless. A few minutes more another 
 cry told that another man had been 
 
 1 The Nujufgurh swamp-drain ran just at the back of 
 the camp. 
 
1 24 Ensigns on Picket. [ch. vi. 
 
 seized, and from then the seizures went 
 on with alarming rapidity ; in half-an- 
 hour more than half our picket was down, 
 unfit for duty, and we sent up to camp r 
 asking either to be relieved or reinforced. 
 
 Meanwhile the Captain, thinking that 
 sometimes prevention was better than 
 cure, took a dose of chalk mixture and 
 opium, a favourite remedy in those days, 
 and instructing me to call him at nine 
 in the morning and visit the guards every 
 hour, went to sleep. 
 
 At the appointed time I failed to wake 
 my Captain, and everything being quiet, 
 and feeling rather lonely, about ten I 
 decided on visiting the next picket, where 
 a brother ensign was, to have a chat. 
 Soon after getting there we were joined 
 by a third, who came in from his picket 
 further on the left, and we three agreed 
 that, if possible, we would all dine to- 
 
ch. vi.] A Quiet Day. 125 
 
 gether that evening, for if we could 
 manage such a dinner we could get a 
 joint out from camp — a luxury on picket ; 
 but the possibility of such a feast hung 
 on the slender thread of my Captain's 
 slumbers. To my great delight, when my 
 Captain awoke about twelve, he, after en- 
 quiries as to all being well, announced 
 that he should take another dose, the 
 sleeping effect of which would wear off 
 about 9 or 10 p.m., when he said he 
 would take the whole duty and send me to 
 bed. As soon then as the fresh dose was 
 safely down I ran across and gave the 
 news, and the order for the dinner was at 
 once despatched to camp. I stayed all 
 day at that picket, for it was a wonder- 
 fully quiet day, no firing going on, and no 
 excitement of any sort. 
 
 At seven we had our dinner, and about 
 8 p.m. we three were sitting outside 
 
126 A Run for It. [ch.vi. 
 
 under a verandah enjoying cigars and 
 coffee, when on a sudden we heard 
 a great shouting, accompanied by a 
 heavy musketry fire, and almost im- 
 mediately we heard our heavy guns 
 from the batteries above us open fire. 
 We all jumped up and separated. My 
 road back was straight towards the 
 city, and in consequence directly towards 
 the disturbance. I ran along the road, 
 and to my horror saw that there was an 
 assault being made on the pickets, for 
 I could see in front of me swarms of 
 men running towards me, firing and 
 shouting as they ran ; it now became a 
 question of speed as to which would get 
 to the gate of the picket first. Of course 
 the assaulters had not seen me, although 
 I could see them. I ran at my top speed, 
 and just got to the gate in time to get in 
 and to get it safely shut before the rush 
 
ch. vi.] On the Rear Picket. 127 
 
 of mutineers came alongside. My first 
 visit was to my Captain's hovel, and much 
 delighted was I when I saw him sleeping 
 peacefully. The assault was soon over 
 and no harm was done, and next morning 
 at 4 a.m. we were relieved and marched 
 back to camp. 
 
 The dreariest experience I had of 
 picket work during our month before 
 Delhi was one day when I was sent to 
 the rear picket. In the early days of the 
 siege this used to be a very important 
 and at times a very lively berth, but as 
 time went on the mutineers quite 
 neglected this position, and when I was 
 there it was deadly dull ; the reason of 
 stationing a picket there at all was to 
 guard the dry bed of a nullah, a sort 
 of very wide, deep ditch, up which a 
 surprise party might come. In this 
 ditch we had three sentries, one in 
 
128 Vultures and [ch. vi. 
 
 front of another, and the only duty one 
 had to do was to visit them. 
 
 The rear picket had no house, only a 
 tent ; there was an artillery officer on 
 duty there with some guns that com- 
 manded the nullah, and he and I were 
 the inhabitants of the tent. The place 
 itself was the burying-ground of the 
 animals that died in camp, and hither 
 were drawn the dead bodies of the 
 horses and camels. When I was there, 
 there was in addition to these the huge 
 carcase of an elephant. I called it the 
 burying-ground, but the bodies were not 
 buried ; no earth was ever disturbed for 
 them ; they were drawn there, and left 
 for the adjutants and the vultures, and 
 they let us know, especially the elephant, 
 that they were unburied. 
 
 Flies are always a nuisance in India, 
 but on this picket they gathered together 
 
ch. vi. ] A D JUT ANTS. I 2 9 
 
 in special numbers. Our only amuse- 
 ment, and that soon palled, was tying 
 together two large bones, and seeing two 
 adjutants swallow one each, and have 
 a tug of war as to which should get both 
 bones. The last night I was on that 
 picket I thought I was in for an adven- 
 ture. I was visiting my sentries about 
 twelve, and had passed two of them, and 
 was looking out for the third man, the 
 most distant one. Not hearing him 
 challenge, I cocked my revolver, and 
 advanced very quietly, expecting every 
 moment either to see the sentry or some 
 of the mutineers. At last the stillness 
 was broken by a groan, and on going to 
 the place I found my poor sentry down 
 with cholera. I got him on my back, 
 and carried him into our camp ; but it 
 was all over with him, and at 5 a.m. 
 I buried him, with some others, in 
 
 K 
 
130 Our Spiritual Helpers [ch. vi. 
 
 the men's burying-place. I often had 
 to perform this office, for whenever I 
 was in camp I was always willing to 
 do it. 
 
 It may be a matter of surprise that 
 in a camp in which there were two 
 chaplains, an officer should bury instead 
 of a clergyman. Of the two chaplains 
 who were with the force, the senior, 
 Mr. Rotton, had nothing to do with our 
 part of the camp; his work lay elsewhere. 
 The other chaplain died a year after in 
 an up-country station of the very disease 
 he so dreaded — cholera — an isolated case. 
 But although our men did not see 
 much of the chaplain, they had a spiritual 
 helper, an Italian priest, who came at 
 his own expense from the Punjaub, and 
 pitched his tent close to the hospital 
 tents, so that he could be called on at 
 any moment. He was always to be found 
 
ch. vi.] In the Field. 131 
 
 in the hospital, or, when righting was 
 going on, in the field. His black dress, 
 wide-brimmed hat, and gold crucifix, 
 were always to be seen where duty and 
 where the love for suffering and dying 
 humanity called him. 
 
 When we left Delhi in October, and 
 went into cantonments in the Punjaub, 
 this Italian priest was at the same station. 
 On Christmas Day that year my turn of 
 duty took me to the Roman Catholic 
 Chapel. 
 
 It is a custom with the Roman Catho- 
 lics to subscribe a sum of money, the 
 only salary he gets, for their priest at 
 Christmas. In spite of protests from the 
 Roman Catholics, the whole regiment 
 had insisted on subscribing, for, they 
 said, u He was the man who looked after 
 us all when we were before Delhi, and 
 we don't see why we shouldn't subscribe 
 
 k 2 
 
132 The Jesuit Priest [ch. vi. 
 
 for him as well as you." The difference 
 of opinion between the faithful and the 
 grateful became so acute, that the atten- 
 tion of the officers was drawn to it, with 
 the result that they all joined in with the 
 men for the Christmas offering. 
 
 When the little priest had finished his 
 sermon, he said : " Now, my friends, I 
 have to thank you for the handsome 
 Christmas-box you have given me ; but it 
 is not yon who are here I want to thank, 
 for you have but done your duty. But 
 those others, those who do not belong to 
 our faith, those are the ones I want to 
 thank for their generosity to me." 
 
 So highly, indeed, did we esteem the 
 little priest, that he dined at our mess an 
 honoured guest — the first, and, I should 
 imagine, the only instance of an Italian 
 Jesuit priest dining at the mess-table of 
 a Queen's regiment. 
 
ch. vi.] Amongst the Bullets. 133 
 
 I saw a good deal of the good little 
 man, and I once asked him how he 
 could, in action, discriminate between 
 the faithful and the heretic. His charac- 
 teristic answer was: " Ah, my friend, 
 in Rome the saints are good, and the 
 Virgin Mary is very good ; but here, 
 where the cholera is doing its deadly 
 work, and where the bullets are flying 
 round, the saints are no good — the 
 Blessed Virgin even is no good. All I 
 do is : I hold this " (shewing his crucifix) 
 "before the eyes of the dying man, and 
 say, * Look at the figure of Jesus ! Jesus 
 Christ died for you ! Believe on Him, 
 and you are saved.' " 
 
 The extreme terror which some men 
 have of infection or contagion, is doubt- 
 less often the cause of the disease. A 
 remarkable instance of this was afforded 
 in the case of a man who was in hospital 
 
134 The Cholera Tent. [ch. vi. 
 
 for a wound in his wrist. In the next cot 
 to him was a man with cholera, and 
 when I went round the hospital the man 
 with the wounded wrist besought me to 
 order his removal to another tent. Such 
 an order was out of my power to give ; 
 however, I told the man that I would 
 gallop back to camp, get the order, and 
 be back within half an hour. Meanwhile 
 I tried to calm his fears, and, to reassure 
 him, I went to the cot of the cholera 
 patient, who by this time was comatose, 
 and put my face close down to the face of 
 the dying man. There was no heroism 
 in the act, for in those matters I am a 
 confirmed fatalist, but I thought and 
 hoped it would reassure the man, who 
 was evidently much frightened. I gal- 
 loped down to camp, got the order, was 
 back within the half-hour, only to find the 
 poor fellow in the last stage of cramps, 
 
ch. vi.] " No Complaints.' 11 135 
 
 and the deadly blue colour over his 
 face. 
 
 Visiting the hospital entailed one very 
 unpleasant as well as necessary duty. 
 There was one small tent into which the 
 men who had passed into the comatose 
 state were placed just before they died ; 
 this tent had to be visited in its turn, and 
 walked through from one end to the 
 other ; the usual question, M Any com- 
 plaints ? " had also to be asked. Of 
 course no answer could be given, for the 
 inmates of that tent were either already 
 dead, or so close to death that there was 
 no real difference. 
 
 On September 1, I had my first turn 
 of Delhi fever ; fortunately for me it was 
 only a mild attack, and next day I was 
 fit for picket work again. So notoriously 
 unhealthy was the side of the Ridge 
 where our camp was, that in the old days 
 
136 Waiting [ch. vi. 
 
 when cantonments were there, it was no 
 uncommon occurrence for the Native 
 Infantry regiments who tenanted them 
 to have as many as 800 sick during 
 the months of August and September. If 
 the natives of the country suffered in this 
 way, it is not surprising that the white 
 troops felt the deadly effects of this 
 most unhealthy spot. As it was, the 
 excitement kept us up, with indeed the 
 occasional change of air on picket duty, 
 either at the top or on the other side of 
 the Ridge. 
 
 On September 2 a brother officer and 
 I determined that as we had been unable 
 to keep St. Partridge's day as we were in 
 camp, we would, at any rate, get some- 
 thing next morning. We had taken our 
 shot guns with us on picket, and very 
 early in the morning of September 3 we 
 sallied out to try our luck. We were 
 
ch. vi.] For the Guns. 137 
 
 rewarded, for after several attempts we 
 succeeded in bagging a fine peacock, a 
 sitting shot in a tree. It is true that we 
 had a novel experience, for while we were 
 trying to bag our peacock, the rebels 
 in the rifle pits were trying to bag 
 us. 
 
 On September 4, the long expected siege 
 train arrived, but even then it was not 
 complete. When our column came down 
 on August 14, we brought some siege 
 guns with us, and these guns, with the 
 new ones, had only now to be supple- 
 mented by some mortars for all to be 
 ready to begin. 
 
 Monday evening, September 7, the 
 trenches were opened ; we were to 
 advance our line of attack from 600 
 yards to 150 yards. At seven o'clock 
 that evening, a party of the regiment, 
 consisting of a captain, two subalterns, 
 
 . 
 
138 The First Night [ch.vi. 
 
 and 120 men, went up to the Engineers' 
 Park, where we received pickaxes and 
 shovels, and started on our errand. We 
 had got down the road some little way in 
 front of Metcalfe's house picket when we 
 were halted ; no one knew the way, and 
 we had to send back for a guide. Hour 
 after hour passed ; we sat or lay down on 
 the wet ground with nothing to do except 
 to watch an occasional red-hot shot, far 
 over our heads, fired from the city. 
 It was 12.30 before we got down to our 
 place; there we found the 1st Bengal 
 Europeans and some of the 60th. We at 
 once set to work, cutting down trees, 
 filling sand-bags, digging out a trench ; 
 we worked as noiselessly as possible, all 
 orders were given in a whisper, but in 
 spite of every precaution we were heard, 
 and about 2 a.m. a huge blazing " carcass " 
 was dropped close to us. We all lay 
 
ch. vi.] In the Trenches. 139 
 
 down and escaped unperceived ; however, 
 the defenders were not quite satisfied, 
 and sent some rounds of grape which 
 passed harmlessly over us. Just before 
 daylight we retired, and the first night of 
 the trenches was not attended by the loss 
 of a single man. 
 
 On Thursday I was down in the 
 trenches again. This time it was very 
 different, everything was known, assaults 
 on different points were frequent, and the 
 fire was severe; still we had opened 
 Ludlow Castle battery, and that kept our 
 opponents fairly well employed. It was 
 on this occasion that Eaton of the 60th 
 had a marvellous escape. A piece from 
 a bursting shell struck him on the back 
 of the head, taking off a largish piece of 
 his skull ; we all thought he was done for, 
 but he recovered and lived for many years 
 after this with a silver plate on his head, 
 
140 The Mosque Picket. [ch. vi. 
 
 on which, in addition to his crest, was 
 engraved his monogram and the record of 
 the wound. 
 
 The Mosque picket on the ridge was 
 only a short walk from our quarters in 
 camp. As from it we had a good view 
 both of the city and of our batteries, we 
 often used to go there, especially of an 
 evening, to see what was going on. 
 From the top of the Mosque the road to 
 Delhi from the south was plainly to be 
 seen, and over and over again we strained 
 our eyes for the long expected cloud of 
 dust heralding the approach of a force 
 from the south. Our home letters told us 
 how at the outset of the Mutiny, people 
 in England did not realize the gravity of 
 the situation ; but as time went on, when 
 the news of the Cawnpore massacre must 
 have been known in England, we felt sure 
 that troops would be sent to our assist- 
 
4 
 
 a 
 a 
 
 CO 
 
 O 
 
 3 
 
 a 
 X 
 H 
 
•••• 
 
 v\ 
 
 I • • • 
 
 ••• 
 
 • • • • • 
 
 •••• •«•• 
 
 > • • • 
 
 • » • * 
 • • • • 
 
ch. vi.] A Game of Cards. 141 
 
 ance, and could not understand their 
 non-arrival. 
 
 We little knew what difficulties the 
 southern force would have to overcome, 
 nor did we guess that they were expecting 
 help from the north. 
 
 One evening, when I was up at the 
 Mosque picket just at sunset, every gun 
 on both sides opened fire ; the effect was 
 magnificent. At the same time, the 
 mutineers began firing rockets which 
 enhanced the beauty of the scene. While 
 I was there, a round shot struck the 
 Mosque high up ; it passed through a 
 room in which some of the men were 
 playing cards, knocking down mortar, &c. 
 on the table. The advent of that shot 
 was followed by a speedy emptying of the 
 room, and a sudden termination of the 
 game of cards. 
 
 Enervating as the climate was — and 
 
142 Whistling Jacks. [ch. vi. 
 
 there is no heat so oppressive as the heat 
 at the end of the rains, when the whole 
 country is more like a huge steam bath 
 than anything else — yet our spirits were 
 not entirely damped, and we youngsters 
 managed an occasional lark. One of 
 these was at the expense of a subaltern 
 who was shrewdly suspected of a lack 
 of pluck. He had come off picket one day 
 declaring that he was ill, and had gone to 
 bed in his tent. There chanced to be a 
 good deal of firing at the camp that day, 
 and shells would sometimes burst over us. 
 Sometimes, having lost their fuze, they 
 would fall down harmless enough ; one of 
 these shells, known as " Whistling Jacks," 
 from the noise they made passing through 
 the air without a fuze, was secured by us. 
 First we washed it out so that it was 
 really harmless, then we got from the 
 artillery lines a fuze, and having stuck 
 
ch. vi.] Look Out! T43 
 
 the fuze in, we waited outside the tent 
 of the sick (?) man. At last a shell burst 
 over the camp ; we lit the fuze and swing- 
 ing the shell inside the purdah of the 
 tent, called out, " Look out ! shell in your 
 tent ! " The effect produced by this visita- 
 tion was instantly manifested ; the sick (?) 
 man, who could not stand, ran out as 
 strong as possible, to be greeted with the 
 derisive cheers of the company outside. 
 
144 A Solemn Service [ch. vn. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " The city's taken — only part by part — 
 
 And death is drunk with gore ; there's not a street 
 Where fights not to the last some desperate heart 
 For those for whom it soon shall cease to beat." 
 
 Don Juan. 
 
 I came into camp very early on Sunday 
 morning the 13th, so tired that I went to 
 bed and missed thereby the early service, 
 but I went to the mid-day one. Church 
 was in a tent without any sides to it ; two 
 drums did duty for the altar, and the 
 colours were spread over them for an 
 altar-cloth. A great many attended both, 
 officers and men ; the latter all brought 
 their rifles with them, laying them down 
 by their side when they knelt down ; the 
 officers had their swords and their pistols 
 in their belts. The service was the Com- 
 munion Service. All was quiet until the 
 
ch. vii.] Rudely Interrupted. 145 
 
 Consecration prayer. Hardly had the 
 chaplain begun to read it when a shell 
 burst over the tent in which we were 
 kneeling; another and another in quick 
 succession came hurtling through the 
 air. Suddenly the first alarm bugle 
 rang out ; it was the signal for all to be 
 prepared for an assault from the city ; 
 the firing increased, but still the priest 
 continued reading, still the congregation 
 knelt. At the moment when the officiat- 
 ing priest was partaking of the Sacra- 
 ment himself, the second bugle was 
 heard; every man sprang to his feet, arms 
 that had been laid down were grasped, 
 the tent was rapidly emptied, and every 
 one was running as fast as his legs could 
 carry him to his post. Our post was 
 close by, so I soon reached it and heard 
 the reason of our sudden summons. The 
 rebels had come out of the city, and it 
 
146 The Council of War. [ch. vn. 
 
 seemed as if they intended under cover of 
 their fire to make an attack on the camp. 
 The fire from our guns soon changed 
 their intentions, and they sought safety 
 behind the walls of the city. Then we 
 returned, and the service was finished 
 without further interruption. 
 
 In the afternoon there was a Council of 
 War; it was held in a tent pitched for the 
 purpose, and was guarded from spies by 
 sentries posted at a distance of 100 yards. 
 The sentries kept meeting each other 
 as they paced backwards and forwards. 
 As the tent in which the Council was 
 held had no sides, we, who stood beyond 
 the sentries, could see the legs of those 
 seated at the Council-table, and could 
 also see right through the tent. I men- 
 tion this to show how impossible it was 
 for any one to have been concealed in 
 that tent. This Council, we afterwards 
 
ch. vii ] Plan of Attack. 147 
 
 knew, settled the final plan of assault 
 for next day, and arranged the details 
 of the attack. Every one of the coun- 
 cillors — there were about ten of them — 
 was pledged to absolute secrecy. The 
 Council broke up a little after 4.30, and 
 yet, when we took the Cashmere Gate 
 next morning, an order-book, similar to 
 the book then in use in the army, was 
 found dated " Palace, September 13, 
 5 p.m.," giving the exact detail of the 
 force that was to assault the Cashmere 
 Gate, and sketching out generally and 
 briefly the other points of attack of the 
 other assaulting columns. 
 
 How was this news conveyed ? It is 
 impossible even to imagine that any one 
 of the councillors had betrayed his trust, 
 and had he done so, how could a mes- 
 senger have passed from our camp into 
 the besieged city ? No one could have 
 
 l 2 
 
j 48 Preparation [ch.vh. 
 
 been concealed inside the tent, no one 
 could have guessed where the tent would 
 be pitched in which the Council was to 
 be held ; no carrier-pigeon could have 
 carried a document so bulky as the full 
 detail of the assault must have been. It 
 remains one of those mysteries which 
 some day may be easy of explanation, but 
 which at present is insoluble. 
 
 Being far from well and very tired 
 I turned into bed early that night, 
 leaving untouched a glass containing 
 castor-oil with drops of opium in it, 
 prescribed for me by our regimental 
 doctor. At 12 o'clock I was awakened 
 by the Adjutant shaking me, and heard 
 him say, " We parade at 2*30 for the 
 assault at 3." The first thing I did was 
 to swallow the stuff I had let alone before 
 going to sleep, the next was to enter into 
 a long and animated discussion with the 
 
ch. vii.] For the Assault. 149 
 
 sharer of the tent as to the clothes we 
 should wear. Finally we decided that 
 we would wear the best things we were 
 possessed of; this resulted in his annex- 
 ing one of two flannel shirts I had been 
 carefully treasuring for future use. He 
 promised a return of the shirt, but this 
 promise was never performed, for he was 
 wounded, slightly it is true, but the bullet 
 so tore the shirt that he preserved it as 
 a memorial. Then we put all our things 
 in order in case of anything happening. 
 
 My companion had a long struggle 
 with an arrangement he had designed to 
 enable him to fire a double-barrelled 
 pistol with a stock to it with one hand ; 
 that took some time. At last, however, 
 it was declared perfect. So it was in 
 theory, but when he tried to put the 
 theory into practice the result was dis- 
 astrous, for he shot one of our own men 
 
150 Forethought. [ch. vn. 
 
 through the foot, and had to pay compen- 
 sation to the man for the accident. 
 
 Of course, after the announcement we 
 had received, sleep was out of the 
 question, so when all our arrangements 
 were completed we started out to find our 
 friends and see what they were doing. 
 Gradually, however, we gravitated toward 
 the mess-tent, where we filled up our 
 bottles and whiled away the time before 
 parade as cheerily as we could. The 
 " bottles " were due to the forethought 
 of our Colonel ; they were soda-water 
 bottles covered with leather and slung 
 round the neck with a strap which passed 
 under the sword-belt. Not only had all 
 the officers one of these bottles, but all 
 the men had one as well. When therefore 
 the allowance of rum was served out — that 
 morning the allowance was doubled — 
 our men put the rum into their bottles, 
 
ch. vii.] Parade. i 5 r 
 
 and did not, like some others, drink it off 
 sooner than leave it. 
 
 We paraded for the assault under the 
 command of our Major, 1 a soldier of a 
 bygone type, an Irishman, a good rider, 
 a capital judge of a horse and of a good 
 bottle of wine, beloved in the regiment 
 by officers and men. His forte, however r 
 was not commanding a regiment. His 
 first order to move out of camp was 
 so curiously worded and so scrupulously 
 obeyed, that the result was the hopeless 
 u clubbing" of the regiment; seeing the 
 dilemma the Major turned to one of the 
 
 Captains with u , like a good fellow, 
 
 get them right ; " but the position was 
 now such that even science could not 
 successfully alter it ; whereupon the 
 Major with great readiness gave the 
 
 1 Our Colonel was in command of the column, conse- 
 quently the command of the regiment devolved upon the 
 next senior officer. 
 
152 A Slow March [ch. vn. 
 
 order " Halt," and then, " Fifty-second, 
 get yourselves as straight as ye can," an 
 order that was cheerfully and laughingly 
 obeyed. 
 
 At 3 a.m., in the darkness of night, 
 we started. We had got about a mile 
 and a-half on our journey when we were 
 called to a halt ; something had gone 
 wrong, no one of us knew exactly what it 
 was, but we stopped for an hour and a 
 half, losing the precious darkness, and 
 watching the daylight creep up into the 
 sky. Many of our men fell out here, 
 some indeed had fallen out at the start — 
 men whose bodies had been weakened by 
 fever, but whose courage induced them to 
 try to be sharers in the assault on the 
 city we had been outside of so long. 
 While we halted, Nicholson passed by us ; 
 his last words were, " Good-bye ! I wish 
 I was going with you." 
 
ch. vii.] Towards the Gate. 153 
 
 At last we drew up close to Ludlow 
 Castle ; it was daylight now. As we 
 stood on the road a shrapnel shell came 
 just over my head and burst behind me, 
 killing two men and wounding seven 
 more ; singularly enough, another which 
 soon followed, and which burst apparently 
 in the same place, touched no one. 
 
 While we waited, the 60th Rifles passed 
 by in skirmishing order ; they were going 
 to try and clear the walls, which we could 
 see were densely covered with mutineers ; 
 they could not do much, for they were 
 exposed, whilst their opponents were 
 shielded by the battlements. Soon we 
 saw their wounded being carried by us, 
 not much of an encouragement to our 
 men, who well knew what lay before 
 them. Here we were joined by the 
 Engineer party who were to blow open 
 the Cashmere Gate; one of these, Salkeld, 
 
154 A Storm of Fire [ch.vh. 
 
 was an old schoolfellow of mine. We had 
 not seen each other since we had left 
 school, and were mutually surprised to 
 meet where we did. 
 
 When we advanced down the road for 
 the assault, he and I walked together till 
 within about twenty yards of the glacis, 
 when he went on to do his duty, and to 
 die a hero's death. For a minute or so 
 we stood on the road, then a storm of fire 
 rained round us and the order was given 
 to lie down ; this was promptly obeyed — 
 indeed one of ours obeyed the order so 
 promptly, that not looking for his resting- 
 place, he threw himself into some cactus- 
 bushes that grew just the other side of 
 the road, the sharp thorns of which made 
 their existence suddenly and painfully 
 perceptible. 
 
 Most of us took refuge in a wide but 
 shallow ditch that ran alongside of the 
 
ch. vii] On the Road. 155 
 
 road. From this partially sheltered 
 position we saw a storm of bullets pour 
 down upon the road on which we had 
 just been standing, and tear up the dust 
 in all directions. One of the ladder- 
 party, who immediately followed us, find- 
 ing that his comrade had dropped his end 
 of the ladder and sought safety in the 
 ditch, remained on the road with the end 
 of the ladder still on his shoulder. His 
 Captain called out to him, "Come under 
 cover ! " He lustily shouted for some one 
 to come and help him with the ladder, 
 but this idea of duty cost him his life, for 
 he fell dead almost immediately, pierced 
 by many bullets. So heavy was this 
 fire, directed at us from a distance of only 
 about fifty yards, that a Crimean veteran 
 who was present said that even in the 
 Crimea he had never seen anything to 
 exceed it. As we lay in the ditch, our 
 
156 Inside [obu vh. 
 
 eyes were naturally directed to the place 
 where we knew the gate was. Suddenly 
 we saw a column of smoke rise up, then 
 we heard, indistinctly it is true, but yet 
 audibly, the bugle ring out the " Ad- 
 vance." At the sight of the smoke most 
 of us had jumped to our feet. Away we 
 went. Inside that sheltering glacis was 
 security from the murderous fire to which 
 we had been exposed. As I ran I saw 
 Captain Bayley on the ground. For a 
 moment I stopped — " Shall I pull you 
 under cover ? " 
 
 " No, go on." 
 
 I saw my Captain, Crosse, go in 
 through the hole in the gate, it was 
 only large enough to admit one at a 
 time. I was going next when Corporal 
 Taylor pushed me on one side and got 
 second ; I came next — third man in. 
 Through the gateway w r e saw an open 
 
 1— • » ■»- ■^•o—.i 1 m u m i n—i » t i mi 
 
ch. vii.] The Cashmere Gate. 157 
 
 square, the sunlight pouring into it — ■ 
 empty. Under the arch of the gateway 
 stood a nine-pounder gun, loaded actually 
 to the muzzle. I put my hand in and 
 drew out a bag of nails, bits of iron, &c. 
 Near to and around the gun lay some 
 dead bodies, the defenders of the gate, 
 the men who had shot the devoted 
 Salkeld as he nailed the powder-bag 
 on the gate ; though riddled with bullets, 
 he handed the fuse to fire the train, which 
 blew up at the same moment the gate 
 and the defenders of it. 1 The gate was 
 soon thrown open, and our men, Coke's 
 Rifles and the Kumaon Battalion, who 
 formed our assaulting column, poured in 
 after us. The whole column formed up 
 in the large open space inside the gate- 
 
 1 The story that a naked white man was attached to 
 this gun is as devoid of foundation as another tale, 
 that a naked white man was fastened to the Cashmere 
 Gate. 
 
158 A Feu de Joie. [ch. vn. 
 
 way, and while there we saw the column 
 which had been told off to storm the 
 Cashmere breach, come over the walls. 
 Our Sikhs had fired a feu de joie in the 
 air just before the arrival of the stormers. 
 While waiting in the square, one of my 
 brother officers addressed me with — 
 " Halloa ! you are wounded ; blood is 
 running down your leg." It was not 
 the case, but I found I had had a very 
 narrow escape ; the soda-water bottle 
 covered with leather, which in common 
 with the rest I carried, and which my 
 sword-belt held down over the hip, was 
 broken by a bullet which, tearing my 
 trouser, passed between my hip and 
 the bottle. Part, however, of the liquor 
 was still in the bottle, and my companion 
 proposed that we should at once share 
 what was left, promising me a share out 
 of his bottle later on. I was not thirsty, 
 

 IT) 
 
 
« t< ( 
 
 « 
 
 « » t e 
 
 c « <■ 
 
 • < 
 
 1 L < t 
 • • . 
 
 « > I < 
 
 ' I < , 
 « « t r. 
 
 t 
 c 
 
 • I < . 
 
 c * 
 
 t 
 
 I « <\ 
 
 • ••«! 
 
ch. vii.] The Water Bastion. 159 
 
 so he took it all ; but when the time 
 came to claim repayment, my friend's 
 bottle was empty. 
 
 We soon moved on, guided by Sir 
 Theophilus Metcalfe, and came to the 
 entrance of the Water Bastion ; as this 
 was one of the places assaulted, it did 
 not seem worth while stopping to enter ; 
 however, we went in and found it full 
 of the enemy. They were so astonished 
 by our appearing in their rear, that they 
 hardly showed fight, but fled panic- 
 stricken to the walls to scramble or jump 
 down. One of ours, a big fellow he was, 
 cut at one of the mutineers as he was 
 escaping, and with his sword — only a 
 tailor's one — all but cut his head clean 
 off. 
 
 Later on that day a brother ensign 
 and myself had an opportunity of testing 
 our swords. We attacked a man, not 
 
1 60 Onwards. [ch. vh. 
 
 both together, but one at a time. I had 
 the first try, and my sword bent almost 
 double against the man's chest without 
 inflicting any wound. My companion 
 fared but little better, for his sword 
 glanced along a rib, inflicting a long, 
 shallow skin wound, and had not the 
 revolver been handy, it might have been 
 awkward for one or both of us. From 
 the Water Bastion we turned into the 
 city in order to get to the great Mosque, 
 the Jumma Musjid, which was our destina- 
 tion. As we turned we lost some of our 
 men, who, with their officers and the 
 Kumaon Battalion, went in a different 
 direction. As we passed along the 
 streets we noticed large basins full of 
 different sorts of liquor, put out by tl> 
 natives, who had full knowledge of the 
 British soldier's drinking propensities. 
 We heard afterwards that this liquor 
 
ch. vii.] A Gun in Position. 161 
 
 was all poisoned. As we went along we 
 broke these basins and spilt the liquor. 
 When close up to the Bank we met the 
 first sign of opposition, a howitzer with 
 some men round it. Unwilling to lose 
 men, our Colonel ordered us to halt, and, 
 taking a few men, he made a detour 
 so as to get behind the gun and its 
 guardians. Unfortunately, our Major, 
 who was left in command, mistook the 
 Colonel's orders, and before the latter 
 could get round, ordered a charge. The 
 gun was taken, but we lost one of our 
 officers, who was shot dead, and several 
 men. Nothing more occurred on our 
 forward journey, and we arrived at the 
 Jumma Musjid only to find its great gate 
 ^sed and the houses round it filled with 
 numbers of the enemy, who kept up a 
 hot fire upon us. We drew a little 
 way back, so as not to be exposed to 
 
 M 
 
162 " The $2 nd Never Retire [ch. m 
 
 a direct fire, and then waited for the 
 other columns which never came. Our 
 numbers were seriously reduced : the 
 Kumaon Battalion had vanished, most 
 of Coke's Rifles were also gone, some 
 fifty of our own men had gone the wrong 
 way — all told we could not have been 
 more than 150 strong. Our Colonel, 
 however, would not retire ; he said, " The 
 52nd have never retired without orders 
 yet, and as long as I live they never 
 shall," a speech loudly cheered by the 
 men who heard it. Meanwhile, as we 
 waited, the Ghazis made some desperate 
 charges upon us. They came galloping 
 down the street, their linen clothes flying 
 in the wind, their tulwars waving round 
 their heads, shouting " Deen, Deen, Allah 
 Deen ! " straight on the points of the 
 bayonets. None ever went back, they 
 came to die, and die they did, but every 
 
ch. vii.] Without Orders" 163 
 
 time they came, some one of us was 
 killed or wounded. 
 
 The day was wearing on, some news 
 had reached us through some Sikhs who 
 came to us ; they told us that with the 
 exception of the assault on the Cashmere 
 Gate, all the others had failed, and that 
 Nicholson was killed. 1 At last the order 
 to retire came — we were to fall back 
 on the church. By this time, however, 
 we were surrounded, and to get back 
 appeared hopeless. All the officers shook 
 hands with one another and said " Good- 
 bye." Our dead we had to leave, our 
 wounded we took with us ; we got some 
 native beds and some shutters to carry 
 them on, and putting them in the middle 
 we started. Very different was that 
 retreat to the advance. As we came up 
 
 1 General Nicholson was not killed on the 14th, but 
 was mortally wounded ; he died on the 22nd. 
 
 M 2 
 
164 The Rear Guard [ch. vn. 
 
 hardly a shot was fired, now the houses 
 
 on each side seemed alive with men, and 
 
 cavalry kept on charging down the street 
 
 as we retired. A brother ensign and 
 
 myself were with the rear guard ; we 
 
 used to halt some of our men, make 
 
 them kneel down in the street, fire, and 
 
 then we ran on to overtake the rest of 
 
 the rear guard. As the regiment came 
 
 out on the broad Chandi Chouk, a very 
 
 wide street with a walled canal in the 
 
 middle of it, which we had to cross at 
 
 right angles, the Sepoys who were in 
 
 front attempted to close the gate at the 
 
 end of our street. This was, however, 
 
 prevented. When my companion and I 
 
 got to the entrance, we, who were the 
 
 last to go, discussed whether we should 
 
 go straight across, climbing the low wall 
 
 of the canal, or whether we should run 
 
 up the street until we came to a bridge 
 
ch. vii.] In the Chandi Chouk. 165 
 
 crossing. We did not know that there 
 was a bridge immediately in front of us, 
 and we could not see for the smoke that 
 was hanging about ; we decided on going 
 up the street, and accordingly we started 
 as hard as we could run. 
 
 The attack on the Lahore Gate having 
 failed, the mutineers had flocked into 
 the Chandi Chouk, and had got guns there 
 with cavalry and infantry. As we two 
 boys ran up the street searching for 
 our bridge crossing, we ran straight 
 towards a large body of men who were 
 in the street, and our men who had got 
 over were astounded at the sight they 
 saw. They saw us two running head- 
 long at a large number of men ; suddenly 
 they saw these men turn round and run 
 also. They evidently thought that we 
 were the avant couriers of a charge of 
 infantry. The clouds of smoke which 
 
1 66 The Begum's Bagh. [ch. vu 
 
 had hidden the bridge crossing from 
 our view hid what was behind us ; for 
 all they knew hundreds might have been 
 following — at any rate they were not 
 going to wait to see, and bolted incon- 
 tinently and so saved us. Then the 
 spectators saw us turn over the bridge 
 crossing and come back, but we were 
 not fated to continue the impressions we 
 had first made ; some of the rebel cavalry 
 saw that there were only two of us, and 
 made a dash to cut us off. Just as they 
 were on us, we swerved close to the 
 canal, where some small trees were 
 growing, and as we came opposite to 
 where our men were, they came out into 
 the street, and we crawled in somehow 
 under the horses of the enemy, unharmed 
 and unscathed. 
 
 At the Begum's Bagh, where we now 
 were, we were rejoined by our missing 
 
ch. vii.] Back to the Church. 167 
 
 men, and by the Kumaon battalion. For 
 some time we stayed where we were, 
 losing more men than we lost at any 
 other place, for we were exposed to a 
 direct lire from the houses opposite, and 
 could not retaliate. At last, however, we 
 left it, and got back to the church, which 
 was close to the Cashmere Gate, about 
 11.30 o'clock. 
 
 . As we had been without food since 
 dinner the night before, our thoughts 
 naturally turned to what was to be got. 
 We were much rejoiced by finding 
 our mess-servants with plenty to eat 
 and drink ; we were more thirsty than 
 hungry, and my companion and I at once 
 set to work to quench our thirst. I had 
 a bottle of soda-water in one hand, and 
 a long tumbler in the other, into which 
 tumbler my companion poured some 
 brandy. His allowance, however, was 
 
1 68 The Indecision [ch. vn. 
 
 so generous, that I dreaded drinking it y 
 especially on an empty stomach, and I 
 told him not to drink it either. Not 
 liking to waste it, we looked around us, 
 and saw a group of officers on the steps 
 of the church, apparently engaged in an 
 animated conversation. Among them 
 was an old man, who looked as if a good 
 "peg" — the common term for a brandy 
 and soda — would do him good. Drawing, 
 therefore, nearer the group, in order to 
 offer the " peg " to the old officer, we 
 heard our Colonel say: " All I can say is 
 that I won't retire, but will hold the walls 
 with my regiment." I then offered our 
 "peg" to the old officer, whom we after- 
 wards knew to be General Wilson ; he 
 accepted it, drank it off, and a few 
 minutes after we heard him say: "You 
 are quite right — to retire would be to court 
 disaster ; we will stay where we are." 
 
ch. vii.] Of our Leaders. 169 
 
 On such little matters great events 
 often depend ; for if the English troops 
 had left Delhi, in all probability there 
 would not have been one of us left to tell 
 the tale. 
 
 Just as my companion and I had com- 
 fortably settled down to some cold mut- 
 ton and claret, we were ordered off to the 
 College to relieve the 61 st ; we had to 
 leave our dinner and go. When we got 
 there, we sent out a strong picket to 
 occupy an archway which commanded 
 one of the towers of the magazine. Some 
 two hours after, I was sent out to relieve 
 this picket, but I only had sixteen men 
 with me, and some Ghoorkhas. I found 
 that the first picket had been driven out 
 of their position into some houses, and 
 the officer I relieved told me that I 
 should not be there very long, as the 
 mutineers were gathering for an assault 
 
170 The College Picket. [ch-vu.- 
 
 upon it. With the few men I had, I 
 could see that I had no chance of holding 
 the houses, so I begged him to get rein- 
 forcements sent out. Soon after he left, 
 the heavy fire drove us back from our 
 house into one behind. Two of my men 
 were shot, four were badly wounded, my 
 Ghoorkhas ran away, and when the real 
 attack came I only had ten men. Seeing 
 that matters were hopeless, I told the ten 
 men to go back in single file, and waited. 1 
 As they came on I fired my revolver into 
 them, and then walked out — I thought it 
 useless to run. I did not see how I 
 could escape, for, besides the fire behind 
 
 1 One of the survivors of that sixteen told me how 
 well he remembered it all, and that he used to tell how, 
 when he was in that house, and had been firing away 
 until " he was black in the face," he sat down for a 
 moment to rest ; that " the young officer who had lately 
 joined the regiment, said to him ' Make haste and rest, 
 they will be on us directly ■ The * Make haste and rest,' 
 always amused him." 
 
ch. vii.] A Disturbed Night. 171 
 
 me, I had to pass for 100 yards in front 
 of the magazine wall at a distance of 
 thirty yards. I measured these distances 
 afterwards. The wall of the magazine 
 was crowded, and the bullets cut the 
 ground up all round me. However, I 
 escaped untouched, and right glad I was 
 to find myself once more in safety behind 
 the College wall. 
 
 At 4 p.m. we were relieved, and went 
 back to the church, where we finished 
 our interrupted dinner, and then, tired 
 out with thirteen hours of excitement 
 and running about, I searched for and 
 found some empty sand-bags, and carry- 
 ing them into the church made up a 
 bed, and went to sleep for some two 
 hours. I was awakened by some one 
 rudely shaking me ; I opened my eyes, 
 and saw a live shell blazing away on the 
 floor of the church. The mutineers were 
 
172 Official Record of [ch. vn. 
 
 shelling the church ; all the other occu- 
 pants had been aroused by the bursting 
 of the shells, and had got out, and our 
 Adjutant came in to get me out also. 
 I was soon sound asleep again 
 outside. 
 
 So ended from my point of view the 
 assault of Delhi. The loss of the as- 
 saulting force was very heavy. My 
 regiment lost ninety-five men and five 
 officers killed and wounded, — just one in 
 every two ; for though we were returned 
 at 240, only about 200 took part in the 
 assault. The loss in the whole force was 
 over one in four, for though the assault- 
 ing columns were nominally composed of 
 a thousand men, making a total of 4,000, 
 the actual number engaged was nearer 
 3,700 than 4,000. The official return of 
 the whole force was 66 officers and 
 1,104 men killed and wounded. From 
 
ch. vii.] Killed and Wounded. 173 
 
 what we saw afterwards, we judged that 
 the loss of the defenders of the city was 
 less than ours. 
 
 Our loss would have been much heavier 
 if we had had to encounter the full force 
 of Sepoys who had flocked to Delhi, but 
 numbers, which have been variously com- 
 puted at 10,000 up to 40,000, like the 
 Assyrians of old, " heard a rumour," and 
 marched out of the city on Sunday night 
 — some never to return again. 
 
174 A Private Soldier [ch. vm. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 " North, was the garden where Nicholson slept ; 
 South, was the sweep of a battered wall." 
 
 Sir Alfred Lyall. 
 
 Before continuing the story of the 
 street-fighting inside the city, the account 
 of the adventures of a private soldier 
 of the regiment who took part in the 
 assault may be given. There was a man 
 in the regiment of the name of Peter 
 Dignum ; he was an unlimited service 
 man, who had been fifteen years in the 
 regiment, and for many years past had 
 been annually tried by regimental court- 
 martial for habitual drunkenness, and as 
 regularly sentenced to twenty-five lashes 
 with the cat. Now when the Mutiny 
 broke out, Peter did not relish the idea of 
 a hot-weather march, so one fine night, 
 
ch- viii.] Tries Lotos Eating. 175 
 
 when Peter was posted as sentry, he 
 decamped with a native lady from the 
 bazaar, and the pair retired to the lady's 
 village, where Peter enjoyed idleness 
 amid the cooling breezes of the hills. 
 
 But lotos eating is expensive, and so 
 when Peter's available cash was run 
 short, and food was no longer to be 
 obtained, he retraced his steps, and gave 
 himself up as a deserter, and was, in the 
 ordinary course of events, forwarded to 
 his regiment to be tried by a general 
 court-martial for desertion. Conse- 
 quently Peter came down country in a 
 bullock-cart, with two white bullocks and 
 a guard. The Government carried him 
 comfortably along the road down which 
 his comrades in arms had marched, 
 carrying their kit, and thoughtfully pro- 
 vided a guard in order that Peter might 
 not be lonely in his long journey. On 
 
176 Success of the Experiment, [ch. vm, 
 
 Saturday, September 12, he arrived in 
 the camp before Delhi. On Sunday 
 General Wilson promulgated an order 
 that all or any prisoner for military 
 offences might volunteer for the assault. 
 Peter volunteered. On the way down to 
 the assault, Peter was taken so unwell 
 that he had to fall out and return to hos- 
 pital. The exact nature of his disease 
 was so recondite, that it baffled the skill 
 of the doctors to exactly diagnose it. 
 
 When Delhi was finally taken, General 
 W 7 ilson declared an amnesty for all those 
 prisoners who had taken part in the 
 assault — Peter, of course, included ; but 
 benefits did not stop here. In addition 
 to a free pardon, Peter, as having taken 
 part in the assault, became entitled to six 
 months' extra pay, and a share of the 
 Delhi prize-money. But from that hour 
 he became a marked man, for whom 
 
ch. viii.] The Day of Retribution. 177 
 
 retribution was waiting. Had he not 
 malingered on the day of the assault he 
 might — nay, probably would — have got 
 off scot-free. But that malingering was 
 a crime his comrades would not, could 
 not pardon. At last the day came — once 
 more Peter yielded to his old temptation,, 
 and again appeared before a regimental 
 court-martial, charged with habitual 
 drunkenness ; this time the full penalty 
 for the offence was meted out to him,, 
 and he was sentenced to fifty lashes. 
 As a general rule, the men hate seeing 
 a comrade tied up to the triangles to- 
 be flogged. In this instance, however, 
 the exception which proves all rules 
 was found, and expressions of delight 
 were numerous that the malingerer was 
 to be flogged. Heartily were the lashes 
 laid on, twenty-five by a right-handed 
 bugler, and twenty-five by a left-handed 
 
 N 
 
iy8 • Assault on a Picket, [ch. vm. 
 
 one. When the punishment was over, 
 Peter put his jacket on and fell into 
 the ranks. 
 
 Much as the short-service system has 
 been condemned by soldiers, no one will 
 deny that in the old long-service system 
 there were many old soldiers who were 
 as clever shirkers of their duty as Peter 
 Dignum. 
 
 At four in the morning of the 15th, 
 after a hasty cup of tea, I was sent out 
 to relieve one of our fellows on picket. 
 I found the place was close to where I 
 had been driven from on the previous day. 
 On my right, and communicating with 
 me, was a very strong picket of the Goth 
 Rifles, some cavalry, and some artillery- 
 men with guns. Soon after getting 
 settled, I noticed that the Sepoys were 
 threatening to assault our side of the 
 picket. I got as many of the 60th as 
 
ch. viii.] , Fiendish Sepoys. 179 
 
 I could, and was joined by some of the 
 artillerymen. These, with the fifty men 
 I had, made up quite a strong force, and 
 filled up the house we were in as full as it 
 could hold. When we were once packed 
 we had not long to wait ; the Sepoys 
 came on at us in a dense mass. We 
 gave them a volley at about twenty yards, 
 and then charged out upon them ; they 
 fled in every direction. We chased them 
 through the houses out of which we had 
 been driven the day before, and right 
 up to the gates of the magazine. We 
 brought back with us the bodies of the 
 two dead men I had left. They were 
 horribly mutilated ; every conceivable in- 
 dignity had been heaped on these mute 
 witnesses of the fiendish barbarity of the 
 savages with whom we had to deal. 
 About 10 o'clock the rest of the regiment 
 came up from the church, and I was at 
 
 N 2 
 
180 Lunch under Fire. [ch. vm. 
 
 once detached with my fifty men to 
 another picket. 
 
 To give the detail of each of the day's 
 street fighting in Delhi would only weary 
 the reader ; there was a sameness about 
 them, yet every day was full of inci- 
 dents. 
 
 One day, about luncheon time, several of 
 us were in a house, which we had got 
 into by knocking holes through the walls 
 of other houses. This mode of progres- 
 sion was rendered necessary because the 
 Sepoys occupied houses which com- 
 manded the streets, and to attack them 
 directly would have entailed a constant 
 loss of life, and this we could not afford. 
 
 The question was raised as to who 
 should get some food. At last it was 
 decided to draw lots as to who should 
 run down the street and get some food 
 from the mess. The lot fell on one of 
 
en. viii.] Mutton in the Street. 181 
 
 the Captains. He got down all safely, 
 and we saw him coming back with some- 
 thing in his hand ; when he caught sight 
 of us he raised what he was holding over 
 his head and waved it. Suddenly we 
 saw it struck out of his hand and fall in 
 the street. He picked it up, but when he 
 arrived we found that the cold leg of 
 mutton he was bringing had a bullet 
 through it. 
 
 Of course at times we had to cross 
 the street. On one of these occasions a 
 man was wounded ; he cried out for 
 water, and a water-carrier who was with 
 us, went to him, and from his miissuk 
 was giving him water. The Sepoys fired 
 on him, a bullet struck the mussiik, 
 and the water spurted out. The gallant 
 fellow took hold of the mussuk with his 
 disengaged hand, stopping the flow of 
 the water ; another moment, and another 
 
1 82 A Defended House. [ch. vih. 
 
 bullet came, this one hitting the poor 
 water-carrier and killing him. 
 
 Sometimes we got into the basement 
 of the houses before the Sepoys had 
 time to escape. Generally they were 
 in some large room on the first floor. 
 Up we used to go, batter in the door, 
 throw ourselves flat on our faces for the 
 volley which always came when the door 
 was open, and then rush in, and make 
 short work of those inside. One time, as 
 soon as the door fell, no volley came. I 
 looked up, and saw instead of armed 
 mutineers a quantity of beds ranged 
 along the wall like a hospital. A rapid 
 inspection showed that they were 
 tenanted by women. I called out to 
 the men : 
 
 "Turn out, we will go up stairs; they 
 (the Sepoys) must be on the upper floor." 
 
 Some of the men had followed me into 
 
ch. viii.] Where are the Men? 183 
 
 the room ; I was just going out and was 
 standing by the doorway. All the men 
 but one were out, when to my horror I 
 saw the man who was still in the room 
 raise his firelock and bring it down with 
 violence upon the bed. At once I ran 
 to the man, threatening him with dire 
 punishment for being such a coward as 
 to hurt a woman, when the man, an 
 Irishman, said — 
 
 " Och, yer honour, did ye iver see a 
 woman with such a prutty moustache as 
 this?" and raised from the bed the un- 
 mistakeable face of a Sepoy. 
 
 To recall the men was only the matter 
 of a moment, and ordering the girls all to 
 get up — it was during the daytime and 
 they were all dressed — we found the firing 
 party we were in search of, who having 
 heard us come in through the wall, sought 
 for safety under the bodies of the women. 
 
1 84 Under the Veil. [ch. vm. 
 
 The man who made the discovery ex- 
 plained afterwards, that although the 
 order had been given not to hurt the 
 women, no order had been given against 
 kissing them, and he had merely placed 
 his arm round the girl's neck to give her 
 a kiss, when he became aware that his 
 hand in its passage round the neck of the 
 girl had come in contact with the face of 
 the man underneath. 
 
 A somewhat similar case to the above 
 occurred a day or two after, when an 
 order came from head-quarters to pass 
 some women down the street. The 
 veiled procession was moving down in 
 single file, when one of the sentries, 
 by whom each had to pass, lifted a 
 veil and saw a man's face ; after this 
 the other officer who was present and 
 I, posted ourselves in the street and 
 compelled each woman to lift her veil 
 
ch. viii.] Run on the Bank. 185 
 
 before we allowed her to go by. By 
 adopting this course we stopped a con- 
 siderable number of Sepoys from escap- 
 ing, as all who were discovered were 
 immediately executed. Of what was 
 going on in the other parts of the city we 
 at the time knew very little, but in our 
 part, during those six days of street- 
 fighting, only once did the fighting differ 
 from guerilla warfare — the exception was 
 in the struggle for the possession of the 
 Bank. This building was in a large 
 garden close to the Chandi Chouk, the 
 main thoroughfare of Delhi. Three 
 times did we and the 60th Rifles assault 
 it ; three times were we driven out of it, 
 and it was only on the fourth attempt 
 that we succeeded in holding it. 
 
 Our method of attack was, first, men 
 with their bayonets cleared the build- 
 ing itself, then others followed, carrying 
 
1 86 A Chance Shot. [ch.tih. 
 
 sand-bags which were placed in front, 
 then the men lay down behind the sand- 
 bags, firing. But the Sepoys had a nine- 
 pounder gun in the Begum's Bagh with 
 which they used to clear us out with 
 rounds of grape. At last, however, sand- 
 bags enough were added to shield us 
 from the grape, and then we soon cleared 
 away the gunners from the gun. Just 
 as all was over, our sand-bags well up, 
 men firing through the loopholes, I was 
 standing looking through a loophole at 
 the now fast retreating Sepoys, when 
 young , who had just got his com- 
 mission in the 6oth — he had been in the 
 East India Company's service — pulled 
 me away, saying, " Let me have a look!" 
 and fell back almost in my arms, shot by 
 a random bullet through his right eye. 
 Poor fellow ! he lived two or three days, 
 but never recovered consciousness. 
 
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ch. viii.] Reported Dead. 187 
 
 Some of our men were posted on the 
 top of the Bank, where, partially sheltered 
 by the balustrades, they kept up a fire on 
 the houses opposite. Among them was a 
 private named Knight, 1 who had been re- 
 ported killed on the day of the assault; as 
 a dead man he was not entitled to either 
 rations or grog, and for two days had 
 maintained a precarious existence. He 
 told me that he saw Sergeant Jones, who 
 with one exception was the tallest man in 
 the regiment, but whose courage was not 
 in proportion to his inches, come up on 
 the top of the Bank to serve out some 
 grog to the men, who were in dire need of 
 food and drink. As soon as the Sergeant 
 appeared with the grog-can, a bullet 
 ricochetted from the balustrade and 
 struck the can ; down went the long 
 
 1 There were certainly three men of this name in the 
 regiment, and there may have been more. 
 
1 88 Horrors of the Night, [ch. vm. 
 
 Sergeant flat on his face, dropping the 
 can, out of which the grog began to flow. 
 The men on seeing this called out, " For 
 God's sake, Sergeant, don't spill the grog; 
 never mind yourself!" — a remark that 
 was hailed by a burst of laughter, which 
 increased as the Sergeant, on hands and 
 knees, crept round to serve out each 
 man's allowance. 
 
 While this street-fighting was going 
 on, our quarters, especially the sleeping 
 ones, were very uncomfortable. Tuesday 
 night another officer and I shared a 
 wretched little room in which there were 
 three dead Sepoys. We dared not sleep 
 out of doors, for in the street in which 
 we were posted the Sepoys had a nine- 
 pounder gun, which gun they used to run 
 round a corner in the street with a slow 
 match in it; its charge of grape duly fired, 
 they pulled it back by means of a rope to 
 
ch. vni.] Her Majesty's Gun. 189 
 
 reload. The next evening we took that 
 gun, and then moved our beds out of 
 doors. Even this position was perilous, 
 for no night passed without one, or 
 generally two, charges from the Ghazis. 
 Our orders not to seek to engage in the 
 streets were so peremptory that when 
 our Colonel appeared next morning on 
 his usual visit, I had considerable mis- 
 givings as to how he would regard the 
 capture of the gun. Looking at it he 
 said — 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " Please, sir, it's a nine-pounder." 
 
 "Who did it belong to ? " 
 
 '" Her Majesty, sir." 1 
 
 11 How did you get it ? " 
 
 " It came down the street." 
 
 " Lose any men ? " 
 
 " No, sir." 
 
 1 One of the guns captured in the city by the mutineers. 
 
190 "Off with his Head'' [ch. vm. 
 
 " Humph ! don't do it again." 
 
 I was much relieved, as during the 
 night awful visions of courts-martial had 
 occurred to my mind. 
 
 One Sepoy contrived for a long time to 
 be a source of great annoyance. He was 
 on the ground floor of a house some way 
 up the street, and used, after loading in 
 security, to pop his head out of the 
 window and fire ; to hit him was an im- 
 possibility. At last we got rid of him. 
 A Ghoorkha stole up the street on hands 
 and knees, and got safely under the 
 window. Out came the man's head, 
 down came the Ghoorkha's khookeree, 1 
 and the Sepoy's head rolled into the 
 street ! 
 
 The stench from the dead became 
 almost intolerable. Many of the men 
 
 1 The Ghoorkha knife ; this is such a powerful weapon 
 that a skilful man can, with one blow, sever a bullock's 
 head from its body. 
 
ch. viii.] False Alarms. 191 
 
 could not eat their allowance of food. 
 Heartily did I envy one of my brother 
 officers who said to me, " What a dood 
 ding it is to have a bad dold ! " 
 
 Our constant advance through the 
 houses prevented our servants getting to 
 us with any change of clothes ; as to 
 washing, that was out of the question. 
 The night-time was almost worse than 
 
 the day. The men had to lie down in the 
 
 streets. The heat was so stifling that 
 they could not stand the houses ; they 
 put their rifles beside them when they 
 lay down. On one picket they piled 
 their arms in the street ; but on a false 
 alarm — and these were constant, princi- 
 pally on account of the number of drunken 
 men about — the piled arms were knocked 
 over, and several rifles broken by the fall. 
 Sometimes the alarms were real ; one 
 night I woke up, heard shouting and 
 
192 The Liquor Stores [ch. mi, 
 
 firing, and saw a blazing port-fire just 
 being put to the gun under the muzzle of 
 which I was sleeping. 
 
 The picket 1 I had the command of was 
 almost the centre of the line of advance, 
 which, on account of its semi-circular 
 form, diverted the out-going traffic down 
 our street. No one was allowed to carry 
 off any plunder ; all was to be reserved 
 for the prize-agents. Among the many 
 things we got and handed over were the 
 gold lotas from the Palace ; these, placed 
 in pyramid form, made quite a show. 
 
 In our street were the principal liquor 
 stores of the city ; over these we had a 
 special guard to prevent any one entering, 
 while inside we had natives breaking the 
 bottles of wine and spirits day and night. 
 No one could stand the fumes long, and 
 
 1 This picket consisted of 50 men of the 60th Rifles 
 with their own officer, and 50 men of the 52nd. 
 
ch. viii.] Broken Into. 193 
 
 the breaking-party had to be constantly 
 relieved. One day a ruffian from another 
 regiment shot our Corporal, who was 
 guarding the entrance, and rushed down 
 the steps into the cellar. He was soon 
 arrested, and as we had no place suitable 
 for keeping a man in custody, especially 
 such a violent culprit as this — for the 
 man was quite half-drunk when he was 
 arrested — we tied him up to a post, in 
 the shade, until we could hand him over 
 to the proper authorities. The head- 
 quarters of the army were in Skinner's 
 house ; this was in the same street as our 
 picket. 
 
 A considerable number of officers from 
 native regiments that had been disarmed 
 or mutinied, hung about head-quarters ; 
 and some of these men, in spite of all 
 that had happened, were still so infatu- 
 ated with the idea that their adored 
 
1 94 A Rebel Murderer [ch. vm. 
 
 Sepoy had only been led astray by a few 
 evil men, and that the mass were still 
 loyal and only wanted an opportunity to 
 return to their allegiance, that they were 
 very indignant with my fellow commander 
 and myself because we immediately 
 executed all the male prisoners we got. 
 There really was nothing else to be 
 done, except to let them go free, and this, 
 with the Cawnpore massacre fresh in our 
 minds, was out of the question. These un- 
 attached officers became such a nuisance 
 with their everlasting protestations that we 
 had to put sentries on to keep them back. 
 One of them all but succeeded in releasing 
 a prisoner. He came to us and told us 
 that he had been talking to the captive, 
 and the man had assured him that he had 
 joined his fellows much against his will ; 
 that when they mutinied he had saved 
 the life of one of the officers of the 
 
ch. vnr.] Almost Escapes. 195 
 
 regiment ; that he loved the English, and 
 that he was rejoiced at having got back to 
 the white faces again. The officer who 
 told us all this, vouched for the sincerity 
 of the tale, and in consequence we told 
 the man to stand out ; hardly had this 
 been done, when a young officer came up 
 and asked us if that man was pardoned. 
 On being told, " Yes," he said, " He was 
 a trooper in my regiment. I know he 
 killed one of our officers with his own 
 hand, for I saw him do it, just before I 
 escaped myself. " 
 
 Late on Thursday evening, a native 
 brought me a verbal order to rejoin 
 the regiment with the men who were 
 with me. Not feeling absolutely certain 
 whether the order was genuine or not, 
 I walked behind the guide with my pistol 
 close to his head, assuring him that on 
 the slightest symptom of his leading us 
 
 o 2 
 
196 Quarters in the Magazine, [cr. vm. 
 
 into a trap, he would be the first man shot. 
 It was pitch dark at the time ; the man led 
 us by crooked streets and tortuous ways 
 safely to the gate of the Magazine where 
 the regiment was. 
 
 In the Magazine our quarters were 
 very comfortable ; we, the officers, were 
 lodged in a long, large room ; at one end 
 was our mess table, made of boxes and 
 shutters, above it a circular bayonet-stand 
 bristling with bayonets. The firing from 
 the Selimghur fort still went on ; every 
 now and then a round shot would strike 
 our building. Many speculations were 
 indulged in as to what would happen 
 should a round shot strike the bayonet- 
 stand while we were round the mess table. 
 On Saturday night the long expected 
 actually happened ; we were all in bed at 
 the time ; a round shot came in, hitting 
 the bayonet-stand plumb in the centre ; 
 
ch. viii.] Al Fresco Tubs. 197 
 
 the effect on the bayonets was not to 
 scatter them in all directions, but to merely 
 dislodge a few of them and to break down 
 the stand. 
 
 On Friday morning I got my first wash 
 since Sunday ; there were no tubs to be 
 got, so we took turn to squat down and 
 have a mussuk of water poured over us. 
 Enjoyable as the water was, the operation 
 was not unattended by danger, for we 
 were plainly seen by the rebels opposite 
 us, who could not deny themselves the 
 pleasure of firing at us during our 
 ablutions ; they never got nearer hurting 
 anyone except with pieces of plaster from 
 the walls which they dislodged. Never 
 indeed was the cleansing of our bodies 
 more necessary ; since Sunday morning 
 none of us had had a chance of washing 
 anything except face and hands ; we 
 had not been able to change our clothes ; 
 
1 98 Youthful Vandalism. [ch. vm. 
 
 some of us, owing to the beastly quarters 
 and the filthy charpoys l we had had to lie 
 upon, were covered with vermin. 
 
 Just outside the magazine house the 
 artillery men had fixed some mortars, 
 with which they shelled the still defended 
 parts of the city. Being very anxious to 
 try my hand with a mortar, I persuaded 
 the officer in charge to let me regulate the 
 charge of powder in one of the mortars. 
 My great desire was to get a shell inside 
 the Jumma Musjid, that great Mosque 
 outside of which we were stopped on the 
 day of the assault. At last, some one 
 found the right elevation and the correct 
 charge, then we sent shell after shell into 
 the great Mosque, but we were soon 
 stopped. A messenger from Col. Baird 
 Smith came galloping up with, "What 
 are you doing ? Stop that instantly ! " We 
 
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ch. via.] Fortunately Unsuccessful. 199 
 
 were then told that we were not to fire on 
 the Mosque or on the bridge of boats which 
 we could see on our left. At the time we 
 could not comprehend the latter part of 
 this order, but next day, when we saw the 
 bridge crowded for hours together with 
 people leaving the city, we realised the 
 full significance of the command. 
 
 The authorities were glad to get pos- 
 session of the city, and did not wish to 
 shut up the Sepoys who were still in it, 
 like rats in a trap. As to the great 
 Mosque, our shells did little harm ; when 
 all was over, I went to see the Mosque, and 
 found that our shells had only cracked the 
 pavement where they fell, and not injured 
 the architecture of the beautiful building. 
 
 Saturday evening found me on picket 
 again ; this time just outside the Palace. 
 Early on Sunday morning the 60th 
 came through the picket, and after blow- 
 
200 Delhi Fallen. |ch, vm, 
 
 ing open the great gate of the Palace 
 rushed in. I went in with them ; there 
 was no opposition, the Palace was 
 deserted, and we roamed at will through 
 the different rooms. Facing the square 
 was a beautiful hall, open throughout, the 
 further side looking over the river, the 
 descent from the hall to the river being 
 almost precipitous. The walls were marble 
 inlaid with cornelians of various colours, 
 representing the petals of flowers ; the 
 centre of these petals had been precious 
 stones, but these were all gone before we 
 got in. With the taking of the Palace 
 the siege of Delhi ended, the strong 
 fortress which our engineers had made 
 was fallen, the King of Delhi was a 
 fugitive, to be brought back a captive 
 a few days later by Hodson, and the 
 backbone of the Mutiny was broken. The 
 issues that hung trembling in the balance 
 

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ch. viii.] The Punjaub Safe. 201 
 
 on the success or failure of that assault 
 were momentous. It is an open secret 
 that Sir John Lawrence wrote to Nichol- 
 son, that if Delhi did not fall by the 20th 
 of September, he could not hold the 
 Punjaub after that date. 
 
 It is futile to speculate on the " might 
 have beens." Delhi had fallen on the 20th, 
 and the Punjaub was safe. The leaders 
 of men in the Punjaub and in the north- 
 west accepted Sir John Lawrence's assur- 
 ances, but not so the people. Even when 
 the Mooltanee Horse laden with plunder 
 marched back through the Punjaub, the 
 people who saw them said, " The English 
 have given them this plunder to make us 
 believe that Delhi is taken." It was not 
 until the 52nd returned to the Punjaub 
 that the people really believed that the 
 city they imagined to be impregnable had 
 fallen, for they recognised us, and felt 
 
202 John Nicholson's End. [ch. vih. 
 
 assured that if Delhi had not fallen, we 
 should not have been alive to come back. 
 
 But what of Nicholson ? On the day 
 of the assault he was wounded in the 
 covered way between the Lahore and 
 Cabul Gates, whence he was carried to 
 the hospital tent, and by a coincidence 
 laid beside his brother Charles, who was 
 also wounded. He was seen by Doctors 
 Hare and Broome, who, after examina- 
 tion, told him that his wound was a 
 mortal one. From the hospital tent he 
 was soon removed into another, pitched 
 on purpose for him. In deference to a 
 request, Dr. O'Callaghan, who was in 
 charge of the artillery, came to see him. 
 He confirmed the report of the other 
 doctors, and taking Nicholson's hand 
 in both his own, pressed it, and left the 
 tent unable to control his feelings. 
 
 The men of the Mooltanee Horse 
 
ch. viii.] Outside, Anxiety. 203 
 
 gathered round that tent ; their anxiety 
 to have the earliest news of how their 
 great chief progressed would brook no 
 delay ; they wanted to see with their 
 own eyes, and hear with their own ears. 
 Anyone who came out of that tent was 
 eagerly questioned for the latest news, 
 but silent watching was as irksome to 
 them as it is to all natives, and soon the 
 buzz of their conversation as to whether 
 the Sirkar 1 would fail, whether the Sahibs 
 would all be killed, varied by that topic 
 of never failing interest to the people of 
 Hindustan, annas and pice, penetrated 
 through the canvas of the tent and 
 reached Nicholson's ears. He sent for 
 one of them, and told him that the talk 
 annoyed him, that he was very ill, that 
 he needed rest, and ordered silence to 
 be observed. For some twenty minutes 
 
 1 Government. 
 
204 Inside, Peace. [ch. vm. 
 
 all was quiet, then the conversation 
 began again. Ill and dying though 
 Nicholson was, he would make them 
 understand that no man should disobey 
 him with impunity, so taking a pistol 
 from a small table by his bedside, he 
 fired it through the tent walls. The 
 bullet hit no one, but the exclamation, 
 " Wah, Wah, Generate Sahib he hookhum 
 hai" l showed the lesson had been learnt, 
 and the conversation ceased. 
 
 Nicholson was not disturbed at the 
 prospect of death, but he deeply regretted 
 that he was not to live until the work on 
 which he had set his heart had been 
 accomplished. It had long been arranged 
 that after Delhi had fallen, a force of 
 which he was to have had the command 
 should march to the relief of Agra, and 
 then proceed down the Grand Trunk 
 
 1 " Oh ! oh ! there is the General's order ! " 
 
ch. viii.] Talks over Plans. 205 
 
 Road to effect a junction with the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief. Nicholson had often 
 talked over his plans, and to one of his 
 intimate friends he had said jokingly, 
 
 " I am certain that old Colin will 
 
 put me under arrest before I have been 
 twenty-four hours with him." 
 
 In his illness he took a very gloomy 
 view of the future ; he feared lest another 
 might fail l where he felt confident of 
 success, and he said, " If ordained to fail, 
 I hope the British will drag down with 
 them in flames and blood, as many of the 
 Queen's enemies as possible." 
 
 During the month we were besieging 
 Delhi, Nicholson held no official com- 
 mand ; 2 high qualifications and undoubted 
 
 1 Malleson's " History of the Mutiny " shows how 
 nearly failure occurred. 
 
 2 The one exception was soon after our arrival at 
 Delhi, a hostile force left that city to intercept the siege- 
 train coming from Ferozepore, which, in consequence of 
 the withdrawal of troops from the Punjaub, was only 
 
206 The Men's "General" [ch. viii. 
 
 merit had to give way to seniority of 
 service. Although he was no longer in 
 command, our men did not recognise the 
 altered conditions — to them he was, par 
 excellence, " the General." I well re- 
 member an occasion when Nicholson 
 on his rounds, not on duty, passed one 
 of our men, who, after saluting him, 
 said — 
 
 "Jack, here's the General, present 
 arms." 1 
 
 Nicholson acknowledged the salute, 
 and said — 
 
 " Thank you, but I am not General, 
 only Captain Nicholson." 
 
 To a man whose ready determination 
 and force of character impressed all with 
 
 slenderly guarded ; Nicholson, in command of an expe- 
 ditionary force from camp, encountered the rebels at 
 Nujufgurh, and entirely routed them. 
 
 1 A sentry would " present " arms to a General ; to 
 any other officer he would only " carry." 
 
ch. viii. j Serves under Wilson/ 207 
 
 whom he was brought into contact, to 
 have to serve under General Wilson, 
 whose vacillating conduct at the time of 
 the Meerut outbreak entailed the sacrifice 
 of thousands of lives, must indeed have 
 bsen gall and wormwood. For looking 
 back on those days, no one can doubt 
 that if a man of Nicholson's stamp had 
 been at Meerut, English soldiers would 
 never have felt their cheeks crimson and 
 their hearts burn at the news that rebels, 
 numerically inferior to English troops, 
 could in the face of those troops march 
 triumphantly from the scene of their 
 rebellion, with their drums beating and 
 their colours flying, to spread disaster 
 and to seize the stronghold of Northern 
 India. Indeed it may be true that 
 Nicholson, after he received his mortal 
 wound, when he was told that General 
 Wilson thought of retiring from Delhi, 
 
208 A Deed of Daring. [ch. vm. 
 
 exclaimed, " Thank God, I have strength 
 yet to shoot him if necessary." 1 
 
 On the day of the assault, Nicholson 
 was entrusted with two points of attack. 
 First the breach by the Cashmere Gate, 
 and second the advance along the walls 
 to the Lahore Gate. Certainly, no one 
 knew the way along those walls better 
 than John Nicholson, for while we were 
 besieging the city, this wonderful man, 
 in his usual dress, with no attempt at 
 disguise, passed along those very walls, 
 through the batteries — going indeed in 
 an opposite direction, namely, from the 
 Lahore Gate to the Cashmere Gate. 
 This sounds like romance, and it may 
 well be asked how a man like John 
 Nicholson, with his strongly-marked per- 
 sonality, could have passed along the 
 walls and through the batteries of the 
 
 1 Holmes' " History of India," p. 398. 
 
ch. viii.] Nicholson and Sikhs. 209 
 
 besieged city and come out alive to tell 
 the tale. No one but he could have 
 accomplished this act of seemingly reck- 
 less daring, and even for him the risk 
 was tremendous. That night his star 
 was in the ascendant, and on his way 
 he met no Sepoy. The batteries were 
 manned by Sikh gunners, detained in the 
 city against their will by the mutinous 
 Sepoys, who prostrated themselves in 
 reverence when they saw the giant figure 
 of the man they believed to be their 
 Incarnate God. 
 
 1 
 
 The Cashmere breach he also knew, 
 for on Sunday night, September 13, ac- 
 companied by his Brigade-Major, im- 
 patient of the delay, and desirous of 
 adding his personal testimony to the fact 
 that the breach was practicable, he saw 
 with his own eyes that it was possible to 
 carry the breach by escalade. 
 
 p 
 
2io A Great Soldier. [ch. vm. 
 
 Two days after the Palace fell, John 
 Nicholson breathed his last ; the indomit- 
 able will of the man who had declared 
 that he would not die till Delhi had 
 fallen, had kept him alive till the work 
 for which he had given his life was vir- 
 tually accomplished. At last the weary 
 days and nights were ended, and the 
 most distinguished soldier of those who 
 saved India for the English was at rest. 
 
 Verily it was the case with John 
 Nicholson that, when the time comes, the 
 man is there ; no other could have done 
 what he did. True, that he had excep- 
 tional opportunities ; equally true that 
 he made a marvellous use of those 
 opportunities. Colonel Malleson, in his 
 admirable " History of the Mutiny," thus 
 speaks of Nicholson : " He died with the 
 reputation of being the most successful 
 administrator, the greatest soldier, and 
 
ch. viii.] A Master of Men. 2 1 1 
 
 the most perfect master of men in India. 
 The reputation was, I believe, deserved." l 
 
 On Wednesday evening, September 23, 
 it was known that Nicholson was to be 
 buried on Thursday morning. As usual, 
 the remnants of the regiment went 
 through a sort of formal parade just out- 
 side the magazine building in which we 
 were housed. Parade was over, Colonel 
 Campbell was just moving off, when a 
 private 2 stepped out of the ranks with : 
 " If you please, Colonel, the men want to 
 know if they are going to the General's 
 funeral to-morrow." 
 
 " Certainly not ; the regiment will 
 parade at the usual time to-morrow 
 morning." 
 
 As the parade was always held just 
 after daybreak, no one could have been 
 
 1 Malleson's Indian Mutiny, p. 310. 
 
 2 When parade is dismissed any soldier may speak to 
 the Colonel, but in doing this he must be attended by a 
 non-commissioned officer. 
 
 P 2 
 
212 Spirit of the Regiment, [gh. vm. 
 
 present at the funeral who had to be on 
 parade. Then the old soldier spoke 
 again, and said : " Colonel Campbell, I 
 joined the regiment before you did, and 
 you know the character I have had while 
 in the regiment. I mean no disrespect,, 
 sir, but we are going" 
 
 Campbell flushed up, and replied 
 angrily: " The regiment shall not go; if 
 necessary, I will use force to stop them ! " 
 
 " And what force will you get, sir ? 
 The regiment will march through all the 
 other regiments that are here." 
 
 Campbell was wise enough to see the 
 spirit that was abroad, and turned away 
 as if he had not heard the last remark, 
 the end of which, however, must have 
 pleased him. 
 
 This was the sole instance of insub- 
 ordination I ever saw in the regiment. 
 During all those days of street fighting, 
 
ch. viii.] No Looting. 213 
 
 although liquor of all sorts was abundant, 
 no man of the regiment was ever drunk, 
 or even the worse for drink ; and the 
 order not to plunder, but to give up to 
 the prize agents all that was found, was 
 so strictly adhered to, that a month or so 
 afterwards, I, amongst others who were 
 desirous of having something for a me- 
 mento of Delhi, offered to purchase from 
 the men anything they might have kept, 
 and found that so rigidly had the order 
 been obeyed that nothing was to be had. 
 The men of the 52nd in 1857 tnus 
 showed themselves worthy successors of 
 their Peninsular predecessors, for it was 
 always a legend in the regiment that 
 when, after the battle of Vittoria in 1813, 
 the French treasure chests were upset, and 
 the gold pieces scattered on the ground, 
 the 52nd marched by that gold without 
 a man falling out of the ranks for plunder. 
 
214 Round Nicholson's Grave, [ch. vm. 
 
 Early on Thursday morning the regi- 
 ment, with but few exceptions, marched 
 out of Delhi to John Nicholson's grave, 
 just outside the Cashmere Gate. No 
 one who stood by the open grave that 
 September morning could fail to be 
 affected by the impressive scene. The 
 body was borne on a gun-carriage in 
 dead silence. No band played the Dead 
 March ; no volleys of musketry were fired 
 over the great General. Chief amongst 
 the mourners stood Neville Chamberlain, 
 his devoted friend ; and surrounding the 
 open grave were officers and men, some 
 with sunburnt faces, some bleached white 
 by fever and sickness, their plain kharkee 
 uniforms contrasting with the picturesque 
 dresses of Pathans and Afghans, and 
 others of his Mooltanee Horse. The 
 solemn words of the beautiful burial 
 service, read by the senior chaplain, 
 
ch. viii.] English, Pathans, Afghans, 215 
 
 Mr. Rotton, were accompanied by deep 
 sobs from those who stood round, for 
 not a dry eye was to be seen. 
 
 But the most remarkable part of this 
 scene was after the coffin had been 
 lowered into the ground ; then the men 
 of the Mooltanee Horse gave way. 
 Throwing themselves on the ground, they 
 sobbed and wept as if their very hearts 
 were breaking ; and be it remembered 
 that these men held the creed, that a 
 man who shed tears was only fit to be 
 whipped out of his village by the women. 
 Probably not one of these men had ever 
 shed a tear ; but for them Nicholson was 
 everything. For him they had left their 
 frontier homes, for him they had forsaken 
 their beloved hills to come down to the 
 detested plains ; they acknowledged none 
 but him, they served none but him, they 
 obeyed none but him. They believed as 
 
216 Pay Homage [ch. vm. 
 
 others, that the bullet was not cast, the 
 sword not ground, that could hurt him ; 
 over and over again in the frontier skir- 
 mishes had they seen Nicholson pass 
 unharmed where others must have been 
 killed ; and now that the earth was 
 placed on his coffin, they threw their 
 traditions of manhood to the winds, and 
 over John Nicholson's grave poured out 
 the flood of their pent-back love. 
 
 These men never took any pay what- 
 ever for their services, and when, a few 
 days after Nicholson's funeral, an order 
 was received by them from head-quarters 
 to march somewhere — I do not know 
 where — they returned for answer that 
 they owed no allegiance to the English 
 Government ; that they had come down 
 to protect and serve Nicholson and to 
 loot Delhi ; both of which they did to the 
 best of their ability. And when they had 
 
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ch. viii.] To the Great General. 217 
 
 collected as much plunder as they could, 
 they marched back again, up country, to 
 their own homes, carrying their plunder 
 with them. 
 
 In 1866, nine years after the Mutiny, 
 I stood one early morning by John 
 Nicholson's grave. Careful hands had 
 tended the resting-place of this English 
 hero. The inscription on the gravestone 
 placed by General Neville Chamber- 
 lain is : — 
 
 THE GRAVE 
 
 OF 
 
 Brigadier-General 
 
 JOHN NICHOLSON, 
 
 WHO 
 
 Led the Assault of Delhi, 
 
 BUT FELL 
 
 In the Hour of Victory 
 
 Mortally Wounded, 
 
 and Died, 
 
 22ND September, 
 
 Aged 35. 
 
218 Necessary Severity [ch. ix. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Unthread the rude eye of rebellion, 
 And welcome home again discarded faith. " 
 
 King John, Act. V. 
 
 It may be urged that in those days 
 unnecessary severity was exercised to- 
 wards the mutineers, but it must be 
 remembered that it was no civilized war 
 we were engaged in, no quarter was ever 
 asked for, even had it been it would never 
 have been given ; we had to deal with a 
 race whose interpretation of the word 
 mercy is M the fear that kills." Years 
 after the Mutiny, in a shooting expedition 
 in the Himalayas, I came across some of 
 the Sepoys who had escaped. In con- 
 versation with them, I said, " If Lord 
 Dalhousie had been Governor-General, 
 would the Mutiny have broken out ? " 
 
ch. ix.] Stamps Out Mutiny. 219 
 
 The man to whom the question was 
 addressed turned as pale as his brown 
 skin would allow, and, visibly trembling" 
 even at that distance of time, at the 
 thought of what would inevitably have 
 happened, answered, " God forbid ! he 
 would have swept us off the face of the 
 earth." 
 
 Another instance may be quoted 
 illustrating the method which natives 
 themselves employed to stamp out mutiny. 
 Horrible as the cruelty was, yet the awful 
 sufferings of one man probably, nay 
 certainly, saved thousands of lives and 
 untold misery. At the very time that 
 our Mutiny broke out, a rebellion took 
 place in the Cashmere territory. Gholab 
 Singh, whose treachery to his people had 
 been rewarded by the gift of the fair 
 valley of Cashmere, had died, leaving as 
 his successor Rhumbeer Singh. One of 
 
220 Rhumbeer's Idea [ch. ix. 
 
 his brothers, whether his step-brother 
 or own brother, I know not, raised the 
 standard of rebellion and claimed the 
 throne. He received considerable sup- 
 port, and matters looked bad for Rhum- 
 beer, but the latter, by prompt action, 
 secured the person of his brother, sum- 
 moned all the chiefs, disaffected and loyal, 
 to Jummoo, where he tried the aspirant to 
 the throne for rebellion. He was found 
 guilty, and punishment decreed. The 
 culprit was led out in the presence of 
 all, he was suspended by the hair from 
 an overhanging beam, and then was 
 lowered one inch into a caldron of boiling 
 oil. Next day the same process was 
 repeated, and so on day by day until 
 exhausted nature gave way under the 
 torture, and the unfortunate man was 
 released by death from his sufferings. 
 It was reported that Rhumbeer then said, 
 
ch. ix.] Of a Merciful Death. 221 
 
 " Anyone found in rebellion against 
 me will be severely punished, and not 
 treated to the merciful death given to 
 my brother." The rebellion was thus 
 stamped out. 
 
 Our life in the Magazine was by no 
 means an unpleasant one. It was some- 
 thing after all those weeks of tent life, to 
 have a good solid roof over one's head, 
 something that really did keep off the 
 rays of the sun. Every day we had a 
 charming breeze from the river, our 
 appetites were good, food was now 
 plentiful, and health and strength began 
 to come back. Our make-shift table was 
 soon replaced by a real table at which we 
 could sit in comfort, and we were no 
 longer alarmed by the bristling trophy 
 of bayonets at one end of our mess-table. 
 Many of our fellows were invalided to 
 the hills ; they had held on to the last in 
 
222 Invalided Home. [ch. ix. 
 
 order to be in at the taking of Delhi. 
 Monson 1 held on almost too long; he had 
 been ordered away some time before the 
 assault, but he would not go ; he came 
 off the sick list to take his turn of duty, 
 but had to go on again directly. At last 
 he was so ill that he was sent off, whether 
 he liked or not ; it was just before the 
 assault. He got on all right till about 
 thirty miles from Simla, when he fainted, 
 and when he arrived at Simla, the doctor 
 there thought the bearers of the palki 
 had brought him a corpse, and told them 
 so ; however, he pulled round, and was 
 ultimately restored to health. 
 
 One of our fellows arrived at the 
 Magazine one day in high spirits. 
 
 "What is it ?" 
 
 " I am going home." 
 
 1 Captain the Hon. D. J. Monson. 
 
ch. ix.] A Medical Board. 223 
 
 "Home?" we said. " Why, what is 
 the matter with you ? " 
 
 He looked the picture of health. 
 
 "I am invalided; wait and I'll tell 
 you all about it. You remember when 
 I went out of Delhi ill?" 
 
 We did ; and some of us remembered 
 it only too well. The occasion was that 
 one night he awoke dreaming that the 
 enemy were upon him ; he seized the 
 sword that was by his bed — it was a 
 cavalry sword he had got, having lost 
 his own — and uttering a real Irish yell, 
 began hewing his colour-sergeant who 
 was nearest to him. The row that 
 ensued was heard by some of the adjacent 
 pickets, and we were awakened, thinking 
 that an attack was on us. For this he 
 was sent out of Delhi, sick. A medical 
 board had been appointed soon after the 
 capture of Delhi to enquire into cases 
 
224 An Alarming Apparition [ch. ix. 
 
 for invaliding, either to the hills or 
 home. Now for the story. 
 
 " I came up to the tent where the 
 Board was sitting and just peeped in, 
 and saw three old gentlemen sitting at 
 the end of a long table ; then I drew my 
 head back. ' Come in, sir,' says one of 
 them, so I put my head just inside the 
 purdah and gave them a look. ' Come 
 in,' they said, so I walked in very slowly, 
 crouching down, with my eye fixed on the 
 old fellow in the middle. I saw they 
 were getting frightened, so I gave a little 
 run and a real good Irish yell. Up they 
 got and fled. I jumped on the table and 
 made a terrific row, then I went out, and 
 they have signed my papers for home, 
 because I am mad ! ! " 
 
 He never rejoined us, but exchanged 
 before his sick leave was up. 
 
 The 52nd was told off for the column 
 
ch. ix.] Only a Handful. 225 
 
 that under Sir Hope Grant was to march 
 down country to Lucknow, but if they 
 could not muster 200 men fit for duty 
 then they were not to go. All of us were 
 most anxious to go down, and great were 
 the exertions made for the inspection. 
 We did manage to get nearly 200 men 
 out that morning, but when the inspection 
 was over we were woefully short of the 
 number ; so many men had fallen out 
 sick, even on parade, that it was apparent 
 we could not muster the required 200. 
 
 At 3 a.m. on October 5 we left Delhi to 
 march back to the Punjaub. It was a 
 handful that came back : eleven officers, 
 two doctors, and 160 men. This return 
 to the Punjaub was perhaps the hardest 
 of all the hard tasks of that year. The 
 excitement was all over ; there was no- 
 thing to be looked forward to, the long 
 night hours of the regular march were 
 
 Q 
 
226 Our Colonel [ch. ix. 
 
 never enlivened with a song — even the 
 well-known " Jolly Shilling " was never 
 heard. No band to play us out of camp, 
 no bugle-band to take up the music — in 
 fact our bugle-band was a thing of the 
 past, and it was two years before we had 
 the bugles to play at mess again. The 
 men were jaded and weary, they dragged 
 along the road, and we all felt a sense of 
 relief when on the ist of November we 
 marched into Jullundur, where we re- 
 mained until next year, when we got back 
 to Sealkote. 
 
 I cannot close this brief account of the 
 part taken by the 52nd Light Infantry in 
 the great Mutiny better than by giving 
 our Colonel's regimental order, dated 
 October 5, 1857 : — 
 
 " He cannot allow this opportunity to 
 pass without expressing his thanks to the 
 regiment generally, for the support he has 
 
ch. ix.] Thanks the Regiment. 227 
 
 received from all ranks in maintaining 
 its reputation during the eventful period 
 of the past five months. The regiment 
 has always kept inviolate its very high 
 name for discipline and good spirit ; but 
 a period of forty-two years had elapsed 
 without an opportunity having been 
 afforded by which it could prove the 
 inestimable value of these good qualities 
 when brought into play upon the field of 
 battle. At the siege and assault of Delhi, 
 the conduct of the regiment has fully 
 realised the most ardent expectations of 
 its commanding officer, and it is with 
 the greatest joy and pride that he 
 thus testifies to its admirable behaviour. 
 Regularity in quarters has prevailed 
 under great temptations ; cheerfulness in 
 the performance of arduous duties on 
 picket and in the trenches ; and at the 
 assault of the city, its gallantry and devo- 
 
 Q 2 
 
228 Lord Clyde [ch. ix. 
 
 tion carried everything before it on its 
 advance. Although he has noticed first 
 the more brilliant part of the services of 
 the regiment, the Colonel does not forget 
 the praiseworthy conduct of the regiment 
 during its harassing marches and counter 
 marches through the Punjaub, as well as 
 its conduct in the encounter with the 
 Sealkote mutineers ; nor can he forget to 
 mourn the loss of the many brave and 
 good soldiers who have fallen in the per- 
 formance of these duties." 
 
 In i860 Lord Clyde, as Commander-in- 
 Chief in India, inspected the regiment at 
 Sealkote. In addition to the usual march 
 past, the regiment had on that occasion 
 marched past in line, a most difficult 
 manoeuvre. The regiment was then 
 formed into hollow square, and Lord 
 Clyde, his voice frequently broken with 
 emotion, thus addressed them : — 
 
ch. ix.] Bids Farewell. 229 
 
 " Fifty-second ! 'Tis now some fifty- 
 three summers ago, when, a boy fresh 
 from school, I found myself in action for 
 the first time under the command of one 
 whose name is familiar to the ears of the 
 gallant regiment now before me — General 
 Sir John Moore. You were then held up 
 as a pattern to the British army, and in 
 you I now recognize the same soldier-like 
 bearing and discipline for which you were 
 then so much and justly praised. You 
 were always a gallant regiment, and it 
 has always been your fate to uphold the 
 honour of your Queen and country in 
 whatever position you have been placed. 
 To-day I watched with a scrutinizing eye 
 your marching past, and cannot too 
 highly compliment you. Every head was 
 to the front, and not an eye turned to the 
 right or left. You marched with a steadi- 
 ness and precision not to be surpassed. 
 
230 " God Bless you All!" [ch. ix. 
 
 " Fifty-second ! 'Tis now many years 
 since I have had the pleasure of seeing 
 you, but I recognize the same regiment 
 with new faces. You have to-day 
 realized the golden opinions of the olden 
 time, and likewise the good opinion of 
 all who see you, or under whom you 
 serve, with credit to yourselves, and 
 success to the arms of your country. I 
 wish I had seen more of you, but I am 
 confidently assured that your movements 
 in the field would please me as well as 
 what I have now witnessed. As I march 
 to-morrow morning, I shall say, Good 
 bye, and God bless you all ! " 
 
INDEX. 
 
 + 
 
 AFGHANS. 
 
 Afghans, the, on the cowardice 
 
 of the Sepoys, 47. 
 Alipore, 99. 
 Allahabad, 5. 
 Anarkullee, 98. 
 Animals, burying-ground of, 
 
 128. 
 
 Baptist missionary, heroic con- 
 duct of a, 118. 
 
 Bara, 99. 
 
 Bayley, Captain, 156. 
 
 Beas River, 22, 24, 94 ; the 
 bridge of boats, 94, 96. 
 
 Begum's Bagh, 166. 
 
 Benares, 5. 
 
 Bengal Cavalry, 9th, 13. 
 
 Brind, Brigadier, shot by a 
 mutineer, 12, note. 
 
 Broome, Doctor, 202. 
 
 Bullocks, expedition to obtain, 
 84. 
 
 Buttala, 52, 99. 
 
 Calcutta, 2. 
 
 Campbell, Colonel, 10, 226. 
 
 Canning, Lord, 2. 
 
 DELHI. 
 
 Cashmere Gate, Delhi, 148 ; 
 
 blown up, 157. 
 Cawnpore, 5. 
 Chamberlain, Brigadier-General 
 
 Neville, 21, 24, 214, 217. 
 Chandi Chouk, Delhi, 105, 164. 
 Charpoys, or native bedsteads, 
 
 198. 
 Cholera, outbreak of, 122 ; fear 
 
 of infection, 133. 
 Clyde, Lord, inspects the 52nd, 
 
 228 ; address to the men, 229, 
 
 230. 
 "Coffee Shop," 81. 
 Coke's Rifles, 157. 
 College picket, 169. 
 Colours, carrying the, 7, 78. 
 " Colours, wetting the," 7. 
 Communion service, interrupted, 
 
 144. 
 Cooks, the regimental, arrested, 
 
 88 ; hanged, 89. 
 Crosse, Captain, 156. 
 
 Delhi, 5, 99 ; occupied by the 
 Sepoys, 10 ; in camp, 101 ; 
 plan of attack, 147 ; prepara- 
 tions, 148; assault, 156; 
 
232 
 
 Index. 
 
 DELHI. 
 
 order to retreat, 163 ; number 
 
 of killed and wounded, 172 ; 
 
 street fighting, 180 ; Bank, 
 
 struggle for the possession, 
 
 185 ; method of attack, 185 ; 
 
 taking of the Palace, 200 ; 
 
 conclusion of the siege, 200. 
 Delhi fever, 135. 
 Delhi, King of, 24 ; captured, 
 
 200. 
 Dignum, Peter, 174 ; desertion, 
 
 175; free pardon, 176; 
 
 flogged, 177. 
 Dost Mahommed, 6. 
 
 Eaton, Lieutenant, his escape, 
 
 139- 
 
 Ekkhas (native carts), 95. 
 
 Fatalist doctrine, 102 — 107. 
 Flies, 128. 
 Fort William, I. 
 
 Gholab Singh, 219. 
 Goodaspore, 40, 99. 
 Gorana Camp, 23, 98, 99. 
 Grant, Sir Hope, 225. 
 
 Hare, Doctor, 202. 
 
 Hartley, Colonel, obtains posses- 
 sion of Phillor Fort, 36, note. 
 
 Heat, effects of the, 53, 55. 
 
 Hodsort, Captain, captures the 
 King of Delhi, 200. 
 
 light infantry. 
 Hoosheyapore, 37, note. 
 Howorth, Private, 78. 
 
 Jones, Sergeant, 187. 
 Jullundur, 23, 38, 99, 226. 
 Jumma Musjid, 161. 
 Jundiala, 98, 99. 
 
 Kharkee, the colour, 56. 
 Khookeree (Ghoorkha knife), 
 
 190. 
 Kingsley, Private, the tallest man 
 
 in the regiment, 77. 
 Knight, a private, reported 
 killed, 187. 
 
 Sergeant, 34, note. 
 
 Kumaon Battalion, 157. 
 Kurnaul, 99. 
 Kurtalpore, 75, 98, 99. 
 
 Lahore, 20. 
 
 Lawrence, Sir John, 25 ; des- 
 patch to Nicholson, 32. 
 
 Leeson, Mrs., the sole survivor 
 of the Delhi massacre, 117 — 
 120. 
 
 Light Cavalry, the 9th, 22. 
 
 Field Battery, the 17th, 
 
 99. 
 
 Infantry, the 52nd, I, 6; 
 
 spirit of the regiment, 213 ; 
 attend John Nicholson's 
 funeral, 214 ; return to the 
 Punjaub, 225 ; testimony of 
 the Colonel, 226 — 228. 
 
Index. 
 
 2 33 
 
 LIQUOR STORES. 
 
 Liquor stores, the, 192. 
 Loodiana, 97, 99. 
 Ludlow Castle, 153. 
 
 Magazine, quarters in the, 
 
 196. 
 Malleson, Colonel, " History of 
 
 the Mutiny," 205, note; his 
 
 opinion of John Nicholson, 
 
 210. 
 Marches, forced, 50 ; regular, 
 
 80. 
 Masonic story, 4 
 Meerut, mutiny at, 10. 
 Metcalfe, Sir Theophilus, 107 ; 
 
 wonderful escape from Delhi, 
 
 108 — 114. 
 Monson, Captain the Hon. 
 
 D. J., 222. 
 Moodkee Serai, 98. 
 Mooltanee Horse, their devotion 
 
 to John Nicholson, 26 ; grief 
 
 at his death, 215. 
 Moore, General Sir John, 
 
 229. 
 Mosque picket, view from the, 
 
 140. 
 Mutineers, execution of, 41, 
 
 42. 
 Mutiny, first news of it, 9 ; 
 
 spreading, 14. 
 
 Native Infantry, the 35th, 18, 
 
 35- 
 
 the 46th, 54. 
 
 OXFORD, BISHOP OF. 
 
 Native Infantry, the 59th, dis- 
 armed, 48. 
 
 Nicholson, John, 24 ; his ap- 
 pearance, 25 ; in command of 
 the Moveable Column, 25 ; 
 his " Mooltanee Horse," 26; 
 personal attendant, 26 ; gift 
 of a sword, 28 ; adoration by 
 the Sikhs, 29 ; stern sense 
 of duty, 31 ; correspondence 
 with Sir John Lawrence, 
 32 ; Postmaster- General, 34 ; 
 intercepts letters, 35 ; detec- 
 tion of plots, 35 ; power of 
 detecting a Sepoy, 39 ; emis- 
 sary from Dost Mahommed, 
 46 ; his account of killing 
 a tiger, 69 ; hatred of the 
 Sepoys, 71 ; arrests the regi- 
 mental cooks, 88 ; advice to 
 General Wilson, 98 ; recog- 
 nises two Afghans, 121, 122; 
 wounded, 163, 202 ; gloomy 
 view of the future, 205 ; 
 determination, 206 ; daring 
 conduct, 208; death, 210; 
 funeral, 214 ; inscription on 
 his gravestone, 217. 
 
 Nickelseyn fakirs, 30. 
 
 Nujufgurh swamp drain, 123, 
 note. 
 
 O'Callaghan, Doctor, 202. 
 Officers, unattached from native 
 
 regiments, 193. 
 Oxford, Bishop of, extracts from 
 
 letters to the, 21, 23, 75, 78. 
 
2 34 
 
 Index. 
 
 PANIPUT. 
 
 Paniput, 99. 
 
 Pathans, the, in action, 58. 
 
 Peeplee, 99. 
 
 Peshawur, Council at, 34, note. 
 
 Phillor Fort, 35, 99 ; occupied 
 
 by the English, 36, note. 
 Phugwarra, 99. 
 Picket duty, 124 ; on the rear, 
 
 127. 
 Plate, regimental, loss of, 66. 
 Priest, an Italian, 130. 
 Punjaub Infantry, the 2nd, 99. 
 
 Police Battalion, the 
 
 7th, 99. 
 
 Rajpoora, 99. 
 
 Ravee River, 54, 72. 
 
 Reyah Camp, 21, 98, 99. 
 
 Rhae, 99. 
 
 Rhumbeer Singh, 219, 220. 
 
 Rotton, Mr., chaplain, 130. 
 
 Salkeld, Lieutenant, shot at 
 
 the Cashmere Gate, 153. 
 Sealkote, 7, 18, 98, 226. 
 
 mutineers, attack of 
 
 the, 55 > repulsed, 60. 
 Selimghur Fort, 196. 
 Sepoys, disaffection of, 10 ; 
 
 their defence of the gun, 7 1 ; 
 
 barbarity, 179. 
 Shahbad, 99. 
 Siege train, arrival of the, 137. 
 
 wuzeerabad. 
 Sikh Infantry, the 4th, 99. 
 Sikhs, the, present a sword to 
 
 John Nicholson, 28 ; their 
 
 adoration, 29. 
 Smith, Colonel Baird, 198. 
 Soldier, funeral of a, 67. 
 Songs, favourite, 81. 
 Stewart, Lieutenant, head of the 
 
 Telegraph Department, 2. 
 Storm, a dust, 18. 
 Subzi-Mundi, 1 15. 
 Sursowlee, 99. 
 Sutlej River, 36, 97. 
 
 Taylor, Corporal, 156. 
 Thief, capture of a, 90 ; village, 
 
 91, 92. 
 Tiger, encircling a, 70. 
 Trenches, first night in the, 
 
 138. 
 Trimmoo Ghaut, 99. 
 
 Umballa, 4, 6, 99. 
 Umritzur, 21, 48, 98, 99. 
 
 War, Council of, 146. 
 Water Bastion, 159. 
 " Whistling Jacks," 142. 
 Wilson, General, 98, 168 ; his 
 
 vacillating conduct, 207. 
 Wingfield, Ensign, 5. 
 Wuzeerabad, 18, 98. 
 
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