Chapter VII (1)

India, its extent and resources--Its Population--Its
Invasion by Alexander--The beginning of the English Empire
in India--The East India Company and its Officers--How the
Empire was Extended--The Afghan Campaign of 1839-40-41--The
Sikh War--Battle of Ferozeshah--The Norfolk Regiment amongst
those who safeguarded England's honour--Battle of
Aliwal--The "Holy Boys" again leading the way--The Burmese
War--Our Sepoy Army and how it was treated--The Mutiny
Predicted--The Commencement of the Mutiny in
1857--Comparative Numbers of Native and British
Troops--Mungul Pandy, the first Mutineer--Fatal Indecision
of our Commanders--The Revolting Scenes at Delhi--List of
the people killed by the Rebels--The Force that first
encountered the Mutineers--Rapid spread of the Mutiny--Nana
Sahib's Proclamation--The Butchery of Women and
Children--Delhi Captured and the Mutineers put to the sword,
by a Norfolk man, Sir Archdale Wilson--The Delhi Field Force
and its killed and wounded--Vengeance exacted--Disarming
Mutinous Regiments--Description of the Scene--Blowing Rebels
from the Guns--The 10th (Lincolnshire) Regiment at Benares.

HISTORICAL SKETCH.

Before proceeding to relate my experiences during nineteen years' service in India, and in doing so to recall some of the incidents of the terrible Mutiny of 1857-8, I desire to say a few words respecting that great country and its people.

India is so enormous a country that our glorious little island--of which Englishmen are so justly proud--might be put in one corner and be scarcely noticed. In length, from the north of Cashmere to Cape Comorin, it is about 2,000 miles; and in breadth, from the western border of Scinde to the extremity of Assam, it is about 1850 miles; while through this vast extent there are but two small states (Nepaul and Bhutan) independent of British or European rule, and even they are subjected, more or less, to our sway. This appendage of the crown of Britain is divided into three presidencies, viz.: Bengal, Bombay, and Madras, the former being much the largest and most thickly populated. The area of our Indian Empire contains 1,687,803 square miles, with a population speaking no fewer than twenty languages, and by far exceeding that of the whole of Europe, numbering no less than 240,938,000. From the most remote period the inhabitants of India have been a divided people, split up into sections or castes; and frequently the more warlike tribes from the north and north-west made inroads into the country, carrying death and destruction all over its extensive plains. Alexander the Great invaded India 327 years before the Christian era, with an army of 135,000 men, horse and foot, and conquered it, battle after battle being fought in that part of the country now known as the Punjaub. The last tremendous conflict took place just outside the present City of Lahore, and the determined resistance the conqueror here met with so enraged him that the City was ordered to be levelled to the ground, and the brave foe distributed as slaves among the victors. The next invasion occurred in 664 A.D., when the Arabs overran many provinces, and in 1024 Sultan Mahmoud, extended the Mahommedan conquests from the Oxus to the Indian Ocean, and from Bagdad to the Ganges. But, in addition to the Arabs, the Afghans often came down from the mountains and carried all before them, the whole country being given up to pillage. Nothing could escape the fury of the conquerors--neither age nor sex--all had to fall beneath the merciless fury of these enraged Barbarians; thus frequently the fertile plains and beautiful cities of India ran with innocent blood.

The British Empire in the East had but a small beginning; but the ability, indomitable perseverance, and resistless valor, which have ever been British characteristics, resulted in securing as the appendage of the English Crown, a territory the wealth and glory of which have excited the envy and cupidity of more than one other European State. During the reign of Henry VIII., some of our forefathers watched the Portuguese intercourse with India with a jealous eye, and petitioned the King for permission to fit out two ships for discovery and traffic. That permission was granted, and the King, having an eye to business, sent two on his own account to accompany them. These sailed from London in 1527, but one of the King's ships was lost, and the other returned without effecting anything. But that did not damp or daunt our forefathers' spirits. Money was forthcoming, and other attempts were made shortly after, in the reigns of Edward VI., Mary, and Elizabeth; but all ended in disappointment, until in 1591, one vessel out of a small squadron despatched from London, succeeded in reaching the Island of Sumatra, although the voyage was profitless. Again, in 1596, another squadron was despatched with little result. But our merchants were not disheartened by their repeated failures, and in September, 1599, another Company was formed to carry on trade with India. The capital amounted to £30,000, divided into shares. There was some difficulty in raising these shares from the belief that it would be money thrown away; but shortly after, another Company started, this time with funds amounting to nearly £90,000, with which capital five ships were fitted out, a fifteen years' charter having been obtained. These were placed under command of Capt. J. Lancaster, and sailed from Torbay, on the 22nd of April, 1601. This little fleet, after some fourteen months' tossing about, reached the Isle of Sumatra in 1602. The Sovereign gave the strangers a cordial reception, with permission to build storehouses, and to establish a factory. This was the first actual possession of Great Britain in the East Indies. The ships all returned in safety, and the profits ran so high (138 per cent.) that little difficulty was experienced in raising another Company. Accordingly, in 1609, another was started, and obtained a royal charter from James I., with exclusive power of trading in the East Indies. They now commenced to build more storehouses at Surat. This was the first factory on the mainland of Hindostan. Shortly after, James I. sent out an ambassador (Sir Thomas Roe) to the great Mogul Emperor. About this time the Company was considerably augmented, and its capital amounted to the sum of £1,629,000. The Dutch and Portuguese showed hostility to this venture, and united to massacre all the English they could lay their hands upon. The French also joined with them in the attempt to exterminate the sons of Albion, but, notwithstanding all, our forefathers were prosperous. In 1634, permission was granted to trade with the whole of Bengal; and shortly after, a small tract of land, five miles long and one mile broad, was granted, with permission to built a fort thereon. Accordingly, a snug little fort soon sprung up, named Fort St. George. This was the cradle of the present magnificent City of Madras. Soon after this, another settlement was made, on the Hooghly, close to where Calcutta--the city of palaces--now stands. A fort was built to protect our interests, and named Fort William. The government of the Company was now transferred to Calcutta. Bombay became an independent settlement in 1687, and the first Governor of Bombay was Sir John Child. As yet no British troops had been sent out. The Company had a few men to act as police, assisted by natives in our pay; but it was nothing more nor less than a Trading Company. The instructions to the Governors were to look after the returns of calicoes and muslins, and to remember not to trouble themselves about territory. In 1654, the Madras Army was reduced by an order from home to ten soldiers; but it gradually increased in numbers, to keep in check not only the Natives, but the French, Dutch, and Portuguese, which countries kept up strong forces, under pretence of watching their interests, until in 1744, Louis XV. of France, declared war against us, which aroused all the energies of the sons of Albion. Hostilities continued, we may say, almost until 1815 (a period of 71 years), and ended in the glorious triumph of British arms over all their antagonists, not only in India, but in all parts of the globe. This terrible war between France and England caused a lavish expenditure of both life and treasure; for it was a death struggle. Spain threw in her lot against us. The American States claimed their independence, and both sea and land was red with blood. All parts of the globe witnessed this terrible strife.

As far as India was concerned, all our enemies were subdued, and our proud old flag was carried triumphant across land and sea. Our army in India alone was raised to the enormous number of 395,000 men, exclusive of Europeans, which numbered about 50,000 more. During this long struggle, some of the noblest men that ever served their country sprang forward to defend the honour of the flag. A Clive laid his pen on one side, and carved out an empire for us. Victory followed victory, triumph followed triumph, and on the plains of Plassey he routed 75,000 men with 4,000. He was called by the Natives "the daring in war," and was looked upon as a sort of demi-devil that no power could withstand. Following in his wake, a Hastings (another clerk) pushed himself to the front, and fastened victory after victory to our standard. He was a wonderful man, endowed with a large mind, an iron will, but a cold heart, and the eye of an eagle. In a short time he scattered Hyder Ali's vast armies; though this prince brought into the field 70,000 Cavalry, and Infantry without number. But Warren Hastings dashed at them, and scattered their wild horsemen in all directions. They were terrified, and driven in disorderly flight from field after field. Hyder Ali died in 1782, leaving his hatred to his son, Tippoo Saib, who fought us until he lost all, life and kingdom into the bargain, at Seringapatam. We were then brought face to face with another powerful chief of warlike habits. There was no such thing as retiring, 200,000 horsemen being in the field. These fierce tribes had to be confronted. Wellesley--the future hero of Waterloo--was sent against them; and on the fields of Assaye and Arganon, with a force of 8,000 men, those vast hordes, backed up by upwards of 100 cannon, were completely routed, leaving nearly all their guns in the hands of the victor, who had still brighter laurels to win from more worthy foes.

In tracing the crimsoned records and mighty triumphs of our arms, we find that a terrible battle was fought by Lord Lake, just outside the city of Delhi, on the 11th of September, 1803. The enemy was commanded by French officers, and fought with desperation, but to no purpose; all had to yield to our conquering arms, and the ancient city and capital of Hindostan lay at the conqueror's feet. Our victorious General gave the enemy no breathing time, but followed them up, taking fortress after fortress. Ally Ghur was stormed, Agra fell, and the ever-victorious "thin red line" carried the sphere of British rule still further forward. The military genius of Lake and Wellesley baffled the haughty Mahratta chief, who was compelled to sue for peace, which was granted at the expense of an enormous slice of territory ceded to the Company for ever. The Company's frontier now extended to the borders of the Punjaub, a broad and rapid river (the Sutlej) separating us from the Sikhs, a fierce and warlike nation, who were struck with awe at our victorious march, and remained very civil neighbours for years.

The Company's officers had now time to turn their thoughts to the better government of the territories which their triumphant sword had conquered. The natives soon found that their conquerors, although redoubtable in the field, were merciful, and ruled them with justice, which, under Native chiefs, they had never known. A restraint was at once put upon the cruel and soul-destroying rites of "Suttee," by which poor women, irrespective of age or position, were burnt on the funeral pile of their deceased husbands. This was abolished by the strong arm of the law. Some of the high caste gentlemen did not like our interference, but a strong rope soon taught them that our Government meant to be masters, and that our laws must be obeyed. Restraint was also put upon all kinds of tortures to which fanaticism had annually condemned thousands. The sacrifices at their festivals to the idol Juggernaut were strictly prohibited. This was a huge idol, weighing some twenty tons, dragged about by elephants; and their fanatic priests made thousands of poor wretches believe that if they wanted to reach Paradise quickly, they must throw themselves in front of the wheels of the carriage of this god, and posterity would regard them as saints. The strong arm of the law put an end to that. Again, the unnatural practice of infanticide had to be grappled with. This was the practice of destroying female children. Our people gave them to understand that it was murder, and that a murderer should die, whether Native or European. The law being vigorously carried out, quickly stopped this. Again, the horrible practice of "Thuggee" was attacked, but it took years to stamp that out. Whilst this was tolerated no traveller was safe for a moment, for he never knew at what corner he might have a rope thrown over his head and be strangled, for no other crime than that of appearing respectable. The poor Natives found out that under our flag the rich could not oppress them; and, again, the rich and haughty found that money could not save them if they broke the law--all must obey or take the consequences. Accordingly, the country gradually settled down, and the people became good law-abiding subjects. Although we had conquered some of the strongest princes on the plains of India, yet there was more work for us to do, and we had to be continually on the watch.

In 1826, the Rajah of Bhurtpore threw down the gauntlet at our feet, depending upon his impregnable fortress. But a Combermere was close at hand. He had routed the French Imperial Guards from the field of Waterloo, and, under his Lordship's guidance, Bhurtpore was stormed and taken, and the whole of the proud Rajah's territories were confiscated. Our arms, however, received a check from the brave little Ghoorkas in the Nepaul Hills. Our people fought them for years, but they have never been subjugated; yet to this day many of them are our friends and Allies. We have thousands of them in our army, and noble fellows they are.

We did not gain much by our first Afghan Campaign, in 1839-40-41, though the Afghans were eventually subdued. From 1841 to 1849, our army, or armies, were continually in the field. Scinde was conquered by Sir Charles Napier, and added to the Company's territory. The Rajah of Gwalior began to show his teeth, but the battles of Maharajpore and Punniar, both fought on the 29th December, 1843, brought him to the conqueror's feet. The Mahratta Chief likewise lost his strong fortress, Gwalior, which stands upon a rocky eminence, the sides of which are almost perpendicular and appear impregnable. The disastrous Afghan Campaign had brought discredit upon our arms, but our officers and men made the enemy respect them. The fault rested with the head of that army. Through favouritism, a feeble old man who could not walk, and scarcely ride, was placed in command. He was an honourable gentleman, kind-hearted, and his courage never could be questioned. He had once been a good soldier, but was now completely broken down and crippled with gout. This was the man that our red-tape gentlemen sent to command our field forces in Afghanistan, and then they complained because one disaster followed another! However, another army was soon formed, called "the avenging army," to cut out the survivors that were holding on for bare life at Jellalabad. A part of our army, by permission, marched through the Punjaub. The Sikhs, a brave and warlike race of people, had heard of the disorganized state of that army, and a disaster will not lose anything in transit through India. Our mishap in the Boulan Pass was magnified into the destruction of the whole of the Feringhee army. But the Sikhs remained quiet until the end of 1845, when they crossed the Sutlej and invaded our dominions, without any warning or declaration of war. An army was got together as quickly as possible to confront them, commanded by the hero of Barrosa, Sir Hugh Gough, K.C.B., &c., (afterwards Lord Gough). The Governor-General at the time was the hero of Albuera, Lord Hardinge. With two such men as these the honour of the British Empire in the East was safe. The enemy was first confronted on the field of Moodkee, December 18th, 1845. The Sikhs fought well, but came off second best, with the loss of seventeen guns. They retired in good order, and took up a formidable position at the village of Ferozeshah, and there set the conquerors of India at defiance. On the 21st December, 1845, Sir Hugh Gough's army attacked them in their strong position. The resistance that our people met with was unexpected, for guns were dismounted, ammunition waggons blown into the air, our matchless Cavalry were checked in full charge, and battalion after battalion of Infantry were hurled back, with their ranks shattered, the enemy still holding their ground when darkness obscured the scene. Our people were thrown into sad confusion by the bloody repulses they had received--men of all regiments and arms being mixed together, officers and men groping about in the dark trying to find their regiments. A portion of the enemy's position had been captured, but their line was still unbroken. Our men lay down that night cold, weary, and supperless, and hardly masters of the ground they slept upon. Our Commanders anxiously awaited the morning light, the undaunted heroes of Barrosa and Albuera moving from regiment to regiment, saying a few kind words to each, to encourage and animate the men to the performance of desperate deeds. The supremacy of our power was in the keeping of the 9th (Norfolk) regiment, 29th, 31st, 50th, 62nd, 80th, 101st, and a number of Native regiments. But, reader, it was safe. Lord Hardinge, with the eye of an eagle, could see that it would be "do or die" with these gallant men. He voluntarily placed his sword at the disposal of the Commander-in-chief, and served in a subordinate position under the flag he loved so well. The morning of the 22nd arrived. Our men arose from their cold bed, breakfastless, with nothing to comfort them, their foes still frowning upon them. Sir Hugh Gough placed himself in front of the right wing, and Lord Hardinge in front of the left. The whole army was then ordered to advance; the queen of weapons was brought out, and then, with a ringing cheer, and a headlong bayonet charge, the struggle was brought to an end. Thus the enemy were routed, leaving all their guns in the hands of the victors.

At the battle of Aliwal (28th January, 1846), the enemy were again defeated in a masterly style by General Sir Harry Smith. But yet another terrible battle had to be fought before the enemy were driven from our side the river. They took up a strong entrenched position at Sobraon, on the banks of the Sutlej. Our heavy siege guns opened upon their entrenchments on the morning of the 10th of February, 1846, and for hours they kept it up. The Sikhs stood to their guns unappalled, and returned flash for flash, and shot for shot, nothing daunted. Our matchless Infantry were then formed up and advanced to the attack, the Norfolk regiment (9th, or holy boys) leading the way. The Sikhs fought with determination, but recoiled in confusion from the desperate bayonet charge. The enemy's supports and reserves coming up, they fought fiercely, but to no purpose, for some thousands of them were charged into the river, and drowned in its wide and rapid current. Our victorious army now crossed the Sutlej, and marched on to Lahore, and under its walls dictated terms of peace to the enemy. But the peace was of short duration, for in 1848 these warlike tribes again defied us and murdered our political agents. This war commenced with the siege of Mooltan, which was taken after some hard fighting. It was here that the valuable Koh-i-noor was captured and presented to Her Majesty. Sir Hugh Gough then fought the doubtful field of Chillianwala, December 2nd, 1848. We had but a handful of men on the field, and it was "touch and go" with us; but the enemy retired next day, and we claimed the victory. It was on this field that the 61st immortalised themselves. They were led by Brigadier-General Sir Colin Campbell, afterwards Lord Clyde. Reinforcements were poured into the Punjaub, and the crowning battle of Goojerat was fought on the 21st of January, 1849. This was principally an Artillery and Cavalry fight. Some of the batteries had exhausted all their ammunition, and charged the enemy with their guns. They brought the right wheels of the guns to bear upon the front faces of the enemy's squares, thereby smashing them and letting the Cavalry in, when the whole army was routed. All their guns--160 in number--fell into our hands, and their army at once laid down their arms at the feet of the conquerors. The whole of the Punjaub was now annexed to the British dominions. A good slice was likewise taken from the Afghans, as a punishment for treachery, for they pretended to be our friends, yet thousands of them had been found fighting against us in the late battles; so, from the river Attock to the mouth of the Khyber Pass was added to British India, Peshawur being our frontier station.

* * * * *

In 1852 the Burmese broke their treaty with us. A strong force was, therefore, at once despatched to punish them, and it did not take long to satisfy them, or knock the conceit of fighting out of the head of the "King of Two Worlds," while another nice little slice was added to our already overgrown dominions.

* * * * *

In all the fights--from Plassey (June 23rd, 1757,) to 1852--the Sepoys had fought well by the side of our troops, and had frequently shown a gallant spirit. At the storming of Bhurtpore our regiments were driven back with frightful slaughter, when these noble fellows boldly stepped forward to lead another assault, and actually walked over their own comrades' dead bodies into the place! They were brave enough for anything, and would go anywhere and do anything when led by British officers; but they were afterwards (as the following pages will prove) spoilt by injudicious though well-meant kindness, and their minds were poisoned against us by fanatics.

OUTBREAK OF THE MUTINY.

This India--the brightest gem in Her Most Gracious Majesty's crown, was shaken to its foundation in 1857. It was held by a few desperate Britons, who could well lay claim to the motto of Napoleon's old guard: "They might die, but not surrender."

The Mutiny had been predicted by a far-seeing man--Sir Charles Napier--years before the Bengal army showed their teeth, for Sir Charles wrote to the Government of India when he was Commander-in-chief, telling them that some of these mornings the much-pampered Sepoys would find out their strength, and that they would upset the King, the King would upset the magazine, and the magazine would be ignited, and blow up both King and country. Sir Charles was not liked by the directors of the East India Company, and was sent home, but his every word came true. He told them how to avoid it, but they laughed at him. Had that grand old soldier's advice been taken, England would not have had to mourn over the horrible tragedies of 1857-8-9, when her supremacy hung in the balance, and for a time it was doubtful whether we should not have to reconquer the whole of India.

* * * * *

I will now try and trace the Mutiny from its commencement, and describe some of the most revolting scenes as far as it is prudent to mention them; but there were many sights that no pen can or would dare to describe. The blood runs cold to think of poor helpless creatures--delicately nurtured ladies and children--in the hands of such bloodthirsty fiends; but stern vengeance was inflicted before we had done with them.

* * * * *

Our Commanders were now called upon to undertake a most trying military operation, viz., to wage war against a fanatic enemy, formidable in numbers and resources, with an inadequate force at their disposal. The following table will show the strength of our several armies in India, at the commencement of the Mutiny:--

Total.
Bengal Army {Europeans 22,698}
{Natives 118,663} 141,361.

Madras Army {Europeans 10,194}
{Natives 49,737} 59,931.

Bombay Army {Europeans 5,109}
{Natives 31,601} 36,710.

India therefore contained, in January, 1857, in the Company's service:--

European Troops 38,001
Natives, exclusive of Irregulars 200,001
-------
Grand Total 238,002
-------

It was the Bengal Native army that had been trained by us with so much care, that now put their masters at defiance, and carried torture and death throughout the land. It was just 100 years since the first regiment of the Bengal army was raised by Lord Clive in 1757, and from that date it had been gradually increasing until, in May, 1857, it numbered no fewer than 350,000[15] well-armed and well-drilled men, officered by some of the best blood of Britain. Some of the foremost of our generals had fought in its ranks--Clive, Lake, Beard, Wellington, Hastings, Hardinge, Gough, Evans, Brown, Campbell, Havelock, Outram, Hudson, and others, had frequently led that deluded army on to victory. With such men the Bengal army had carved out a name for themselves and an empire for old England, but in 1857, through mismanagement, this army was, with a few bright exceptions, in a state of insubordination or open mutiny. From beginning to end the officers had had unbounded confidence in their men. In many cases they doubted the faithfulness of other regiments, but looked upon their own as thoroughly reliable, and blindly kept with them until they were shot down by the very men whom they had for years commanded or patted on the back and treated as children. The fact is, our people had played with the cat until she found out she could use her claws.

But the Government was determined to grapple with the Mutineers; and, during the fifteen months ending April, 1858, 47,000 men from England were landed in India to uphold the supremacy of our rule. All that was wanted was a few men with clear heads, honest, upright, and fearless. And we had them. The right man was soon put into the right place--Sir Colin Campbell, afterwards Lord Clyde. This grand old hero quickly collected around him men with heads as clear and hearts as fearless as his own, to lead the troops on from victory to victory, until the last spark of rebellion was well stamped out, and the murderers and would-be murderers were cringing at our feet.

Many of the Natives were under the impression that nearly the whole of the British army had been destroyed by the Russians in front of Sebastopol, and that we had no more to send out. But they were speedily undeceived, for, as I have said, no fewer than 47,000 British troops were landed in India within little more than a year after the first evidence of the outbreak.

THE FIRST MUTINEER.

The spirit of insubordination first showed itself in the 34th Native Regiment, at Barrackpore, and the first victim was the Sergeant-Major "Hewson." The Adjutant went at once to the rescue of his Sergeant-Major, but his horse was shot, and before he could get disengaged from his charger he was cut down; the wounded Sergeant-Major rushed to the assistance of his officer, but was felled to the earth like a bullock with the butt end of a rifle. A strong guard was looking on all the time, but would not interfere. A Sepoy, named Mungul Pandy, was the first mutineer. He was hung.

In the early part of January, 1857, placards were posted in various places, calling upon all the faithful and true believers to rise against the English infidels, and drive them from India, or destroy them root and branch, and proclaiming a holy war against us (all those who fell in such a war would be venerated as martyrs). The 34th Native Regiment, as I before remarked, appear to have been the ringleaders in this bloody revolt. The 19th Natives were _en route_ to Barrackpore, which is about sixteen miles from Calcutta, and had arrived within eight miles, when a deputation from the 34th met them, with the proposition that they should unite, set fire to all the bungalows, surprise and massacre all Europeans, old and young, rich and poor, secure the guns, and then march into, sack, and destroy Calcutta. The 19th were hardly ripe enough for that, but they kept all knowledge of the proposal to themselves. The Government could not believe that the army would rise, but thought the disturbance only began and ended in the plot of a few bad characters; they were, however, suddenly awakened to a sense of danger.

On the 10th of May, 1857, the Mutiny burst forth in all its fury at Meerut. It was Sunday, and the cowardly brutes waited until the European troops were in church before moving. There were two splendid regiments there, besides Artillery, and if they had only been let loose, not a man of the three regiments that started the Mutiny would have lived to tell the tale. The troops in the cantonment consisted of the following:--6th Dragoon Guards, 60th Rifles, and two batteries of Bengal Artillery (all Europeans); Natives, 11th and 20th Infantry, and 3rd Cavalry. Every man, woman, and child (Europeans) that fell in their way was murdered. And, as an eye-witness of some of these scenes, I can say that every horror, making war hideous, attended this dreadful outbreak. The cry of murder from poor defenceless women and children echoed throughout the land. Death in all modes was rampant--from the sword, bayonet, water, flames, and starvation. The barbarity of these fiends has never been equalled. The number who perished during that unparalleled revolt will never be known.

The reader will ask, "What were our men doing?" Their hands were tied. They had an "old woman" in command, and he was fearful that if he let the Cavalry and Artillery loose some of the "bungalows" might get burnt. There was the whole station in a blaze, and yet not a sword was drawn to save a single life until the mutineers had thought fit to move off to Delhi! One of the officer's wives might well exclaim, "Oh, agony! what a night! Every house in sight was blazing; shots were fired at me; some of our men at last dashed into our compound (garden). I saw the Cavalry uniform. 'Come, come,' I shouted, 'and save me;' 'Fear nothing,' shouted the first man, 'No one shall injure you.' Oh how I thanked them. If our Artillery and Dragoons had been let loose, the Mutineers would never have reached Delhi." The three regiments of rebels at once marched off to Delhi--37 miles, and the Cavalry reached it next day at 8 a.m. The three regiments of Native Infantry at Delhi--38th, 54th, and 74th--received the 3rd Cavalry with open arms, and allowed their officers to be cut or shot down by them without attempting to defend them.

THE SCENES AT DELHI.

In describing the revolting scenes at Delhi, I will quote the words of those who had the misfortune to be there. The officers of all the regiments, viz., 38th, 54th, and 74th, and the Artillery, had the greatest confidence in their men, and at once marched them to attack the Mutineers just arrived from Meerut. But, poor deluded men, they were soon let into the terrible secret; their own men turned their arms upon them and at once shot them, or allowed the Meerut contingent to ride up to them and cut them down, exclaiming, "Feringhee! Ko! Maro, Maro!"--kill the Englishmen; kill, kill. Then the carnage commenced. What a scene! The Mutineers united to exterminate all that they could lay their hands upon, without distinction of age or sex--all that those bloody-thirsty wretches could reach were launched into eternity, for no other crime than that they had a white face. No pen can describe the awful deeds of these cowardly villains. Poor defenceless creatures were cut and hacked to pieces, after being stripped and subjected to brutality ten times worse than death. Poor women were hunted up by these fiends, and, when found, were dragged from their hiding-places and tortured. I will just give a few instances to show how they were treated. After some of these poor creatures had been subjected to worse than death, they were tied to trees in a state of nudity, old and young, their children were then tortured before them, by being cut limb from limb, one joint at a time, and the flesh was crammed down the parents' throats; wives, and in many cases young maidens, were ravished before the eyes of husbands and fathers; they were then mutilated in a manner too horrible to relate, and burnt to death in one common pile. Others, pretty, very pretty girls, were seized, stripped naked, tied to a cart, and taken into the midst of these brutes to be violated; while many died under the brutal treatment they received. Can the reader wonder, after reading these details--which give only a very faint idea of the horrors that attended this mutiny--that our men retaliated? They would not have been human had they not, at the bare recital of such deeds, been wrought up to a state bordering on madness. British soldiers could not stand this. They crossed their bayonets and swore to give no quarter, but that they would have a life for every hair that had been dishonoured by these scoundrels! And they kept their word.

The public will never know a hundredth part of the sufferings of our poor fellow-countrywomen in that hellish Mutiny of 1857-8. The narratives of those who escaped the fiendish rage and brutality and lust that characterised the proceedings of the Mutineers during that black month of May, 1857, are enough to make one's blood curdle in the veins--

On horror's head horrors accumulate.

I am most happy, however, to be able to record that there were a few Natives who, in the midst of those scenes of blood, proved to the world that they still retained feelings of humanity, and who nobly stood forward to defend the defenceless (although of the same creed and caste as the bloodthirsty villains by whom those horrors were perpetrated), and some of them proved faithful to the last, even unto death. The escape of many of the fugitives was miraculous, and one can trace the hand of Providence working through it all. In some few instances they managed to cut their way through their would-be murderers with a good sword and a strong arm. In one case, a gentleman, when he found that all was lost, and that there was no mercy to be expected from the hands of those whom he had previously commanded, compelled his syce (groom), with a revolver at his head, to put his horses into his carriage, in which he immediately placed his wife and family. Armed to the teeth, he drove off along the road to Kurnaul. He had not gone far when he was summoned by a small party of the Mutineers to stop, but, handing the reins to his poor wife, he shot three of them dead and pushed on. Finding, however, that he was pursued, he at once placed his children at the bottom of the carriage, and prepared to sell his life, and the lives of those near and dear to him, dearly. Being well armed, as fast as his would-be murderers came near him he shot them dead. His wife was wounded by a shot from one of the villains, but he still kept on his way--it was life or death. One of his boys kept loading for his father, and thus this gentleman managed to bring down upwards of fifteen of his pursuers in about 12 minutes. He then thought that, as they had dropped to the rear, all might go well; so he easied his horses a little and stopped to look at his poor wife, when to his horror he found that she had been shot dead, with her babe at her breast--one ball had launched them both into eternity. In twenty miles he was six times stopped after that, but on each occasion he responded to the call by rolling his assailants over. He lived to help to storm Delhi, and there revenge his poor wife and child.

A SURVIVOR'S NARRATIVE.

But, reader, the scenes that were enacted in the interior of that guilty city would baffle the imagination. I will try and describe a few of them, though language would utterly fail me were I to attempt to pourtray them in adequate terms. A number of gentlemen employed at the various banks and public offices, the greater portion of whom lived in the city, being burdened with large families, were unable to procure means of escape. It was reported to Mr. ---- by one of his servants that there was an uproar in the city, that the Cavalry from Meerut were murdering all the Europeans they could lay their hands upon, and that the Bud-mashes of the city (rogues or villains) had joined them. He did not know what to do, and waited for a time to see what would turn up. "In the mean time," he says, "we held a prayer meeting, and committed ourselves into His keeping, whose arm I knew was not shortened. I then took a walk down the street and found it empty. I was armed with a good stick, and at a distance I could see a large crowd of men, all armed with lattees (sticks shod with iron) or talwars (swords). I offered a silent prayer for protection. I had promised my poor wife that I would not be gone long. I at once turned back, for I could distinctly hear them shouting and shrieking like madmen, 'Maro Feringhee!'--kill the English. I had not got far when I found that there was another party in front of me, so I did not know what to do, as they had got between me and my house. I at once bolted down a narrow lane, and they after me, shouting--'Maro, Maro Feringhee!' One man tried to stop me. He had a talwar in his hand, but I managed to knock him down with my stick, while I received a wound in my shoulder, and passed on. I continued to dodge them, but could not get home, being hidden all day in a faithful Hindoo's house. In the afternoon I succeeded in getting close up to my own house, and called one of my servants, but could not make any one hear. At last I made up my mind to go home at all hazards. I had not gone many yards when I met some Natives whom I knew well, and they told me to save myself. I got home as quickly as possible. I heard some one crying in one of my outhouses, and soon found out that it was a faithful servant of mine--an old man who had been in our service for upwards of twenty years. I called him by name, and when he saw me he, poor old man, burst out crying the louder, saying, 'Oh, Sahib, they have killed them all, they have killed them all,' wringing his hands in agony. I felt very faint, and requested him to give me a little water. It is impossible for me to describe my feelings. I sat down and asked the dear old creature to tell me all about it and how it happened. He again burst out crying, but after a time collected himself. I repeated 'Now do tell me.' 'Oh, Sahib,' he said, 'when you had gone, Mem Sahib (lady) and all the children sat together, Mem Sahib was very frightened; we could hear a great noise, and the guns firing, and another Sahib next door loaded his gun, and shortly after a crowd came and went into the Sahib's house. They were all armed with talwars and spears, and all went into the Sahib's. The Sahib asked them what they wanted, when they commenced to abuse him, and told him that all Feringhees had to die. The servants all ran away--I only remained behind, and they told me if I did not go they would kill me. The Sahib told them to take what they liked, but not to kill us, or they would be hung. They abused him very much, and went up to his Mem Sahib and began to pinch her. She called upon the Sahib to protect her. The Sahib called out in a terrible voice, 'Thome sawur' (you pig), and shot the would-be murderer dead, and with another barrel shot another who had just killed one of his children, and then laid about them with the butt-end of his rifle, and with two revolvers he soon had a heap of dead all around him. But at last he was overpowered and killed, and they then set to and murdered all in the house; and they hit me, and told me again if I did not go they would kill me. I then ran to my Mem Sahib to try and protect her, but they threw me out of the house, and some of them said 'Kill him,' others said 'He is an old man, let him go.' They then killed all, and took away what they liked. I could listen to no more, but requested him to come into the house with me. I first went into my neighbour's house, for I felt so bad that I could not face my own. Oh, horror of horrors! the first sight that I caught was that of a fine little fellow crucified to the wall; this cruel death the poor mother had been compelled to witness. They had then killed all the other children, and next stripped the poor mother naked and dishonoured her (she, poor thing, being far advanced in pregnancy), while her husband was lying dead beside her. What an end to come to! I sat down, for I thought my heart would burst. I sat for some time, and then went to my own door. I rapped at the door, but could not enter. I thought my brain would have turned. I was determined, however, to see all, if possible; but language fails to describe that horrible sight. All that was near and dear to me in this world lay mutilated on the ground. Oh, the intense agony I was in! I was now completely exhausted; how long I remained there I could not say. At last a feeling of revenge seemed to take hold of me. I jumped up, and went and found my revolvers (for I had two good ones). I loaded them, and then sat down by the side of my poor wife. I had not been there more than half-an-hour, when two men came in and called out in a commanding voice 'Khon hy' (who are you?) I remained quiet, and they came up to me and shouted, 'Feringhee, Feringhee; Maro Feringhee Ko.' I at once brought my revolver into play, and shot the fellow dead; he fell upon my poor wife, and before the other had time to move one yard I had the pleasure of dropping him, and finishing him off with his own sword, which, by the bye, was a good English blade. They were hardly down when three others came rushing in. It was then getting dusk, and they got a light; but I had my revenge, and shot the whole of them--two of them dead on the spot, and the third wounded; he tried to get away, but I caught him before he reached the door, and put a ball through his head. I knew it would not do for me to stop there, so I mustered all the strength I could, kissed my poor wife and five children--all cold in death. I found another good revolver that one of my would-be murderers had dropped, and some ball and powder. My good old servant dressed me up, and I passed out of the city as a Native. I started for Meerut next morning. I was joined by another fugitive who had escaped with bare life. I armed him with a revolver and sword, and we determined to sell our lives as dearly as possible. My poor comrade's rashness nearly cost us our lives. A villain called us Feringhees, and urged one that was with him to 'Mar Feringhee Ko!' My comrade at once shot them both, and we took across the fields for it then!"

The following is a list of people killed at Delhi, on that terrible 11th of May, 1857:--Mr. S. Fraser, C.S., resident and governor-general's agent; Capt. Douglas, 32nd native infantry, assistant and commandant of palace guards; the Rev. M. A. Jennings, chaplain, and Miss Jennings; Miss Clifford, Mr. Berresford, secretary, Delhi bank, Mrs. Berresford, and five children; Mr. R. Nixon, assistant to resident, Mr. and Mrs. Collins, and six children, Mrs. Fuller, Mr. and Mrs. Skinner and child, Colonel Ripley, 54th native infantry, Captains Burrowes and Smith, 54th native infantry, Dr. Dopping, Lieutenant Edwardes, Captain Gordon, 74th, Lieutenant Hyslop, 74th, Lieutenant Reveley, 74th, Mrs. Staines and family, and a large number of government and bank clerks, press _employes_, sergeants, conductors, &c., with their wives and families; also Mr. J. P. Macwhirter, C.S., of Kurnaul (on a visit), Mr. Hutchinson, C.S., magistrate and collector Mr. A. Galloway, C.S., assistant to ditto, Mrs. Colonel Forster, Mr. F. Taylor, principal Delhi college, Mr. S. G. T. Heatly, editor of the _Delhi Gazette_, Mrs. Heatly, mother and child, the Rev. Hubbard, missionary, the Rev. Sandes, ditto, Lieut. Raynor, commissary of ordnance, and family. The following escaped, though many of them were subsequently killed or wounded:--Brigadier H. M. Graves, Capt. Nicoll (major of brigade), Mr. C. T. Le Bas, C.S., C. and S. Judge, Sir T. J. Metcalfe, joint magistrate and deputy collector, Mrs. Fraser, Mrs. Tronson, Dr. Balfour, Miss Smith, Mr. and Mrs. Wagentreiber, and infant, Miss Haldane, Lieut. Forrest, Mrs. Forrest and two Miss Forrests, Dr. Stewart, garrison surgeon, Dr. Batson, 74th native infantry, Mrs. Batson and Miss Batson, Mrs. Major Abbott (74th) and family, Major Abbott, Major Paterson, 54th, Colonel Knyvett, 38th, Capt. Tytler, 38th, Lieuts. Holland and Gambier, 38th, Dr. Wood, 38th, Mrs. Wood, Lieut. Peile, 38th, Mrs. Peile, Lieuts. Taylor, Grant, Mew, and Drummond, 74th, Mr. L. Berkeley, principal Sudder Ameen, Mrs. Berkeley and Infant, Capt. De Tessier, artillery, Mrs. De Tessier, and Lieutenant Willoughby. In addition to the above, a very great number fell under the murderous swords and rifles of the Mutineers, on that terrible 11th of May, whose names were never known. The above list was published in the _Delhi Gazette_. Five officers only escaped that massacre. The scenes in that bloodthirsty city were beyond all conception. Innocent babes were thrown up and caught on the bayonets of these villains. Some of the poor defenceless women were spared for a few days in order to be tortured, and then hacked to pieces, while their dear babes were dashed on the pavement before them; and others were tied to trees and shot. The Natives themselves stood a very poor chance, with this lawless band of murderers around them; whatever they thought they wanted they took, and if a shopkeeper said one word he was shot, under pretence that he was favouring the Europeans.

The rebels were now in full possession of Delhi, and they commenced strengthening the place, for they knew well that the dreaded Feringhees would soon be after them; for the Government was now busy collecting all the available troops that could be relied upon; and it was only upon the Europeans troops that they could rely, for the whole of the Bengal army was either in open arms against us, or were doubtful friends; and it is far better to have an open enemy, then one knows how to deal with him. So at all stations where there were Europeans, the Natives had their teeth drawn (_i.e._ they were disarmed and dismissed).

THE GREASED CARTRIDGES.

I will now leave the rebels at Delhi for a time, and proceed to Umballah to notice the steps taken by the Commander-in-chief. It was here that the much-talked-of "cartridge difficulty" came to a head, but it is not my province to enter into any lengthened explanation as to the origin of the allegation as to greased cartridges having been issued--the matter having been much discussed at the time both at home and in India. However, the dissatisfaction of the Native troops now exhibited symptoms of increasing strength, so that at length the European officers suggested the expediency of discontinuing the issue of cartridges. With this view the Commander-in-chief coincided, and he issued a general order withdrawing the cartridges, and ordering ammunition to be made up by each regiment for its own use. But though many of the Natives professed to be satisfied by this step, it soon became evident that the excitement was by no means allayed. Incendiary fires broke out in all directions, and a vast amount of government and native property was destroyed. About the middle of May (the date of the outbreak at Meerut) many of the Native troops seized their arms, as if expecting a simultaneous movement on the part of their comrades elsewhere, and an outbreak appeared imminent, but the judicious interference and counsel of some of the Native officers availed to calm them, though the conduct of the Native troops was still far from satisfactory to the Europeans near. The Commander-in-chief had gone to Simla for the season, and as soon as the news reached there of the deeds of the Mutineers at Delhi, all the available troops were ordered to march at once on Umballah. It was now, as I have said, about the middle of May, and the heat was something fearful. But the supremacy of Old England hung in the balance, and heat or no heat these noble regiments marched forward to measure their strength against bloodthirsty villains, and they went from victory to victory. The cowardly brutes could murder poor defenceless women and innocent children, but they soon found out, to their cost, that our arm was not shortened, and before four months were over the cringing fiends had paid with their lives for the unspeakably atrocious murders perpetrated. The horrible scenes enacted were enough to make one's blood run cold, and I dare not attempt to recount them.

THE AVENGING ARMY.

But the avenging army was now on the track, and although it was only a small one, every man composing it was worth his weight in gold to the Government. The head of the Mutiny must be crushed before it had time to collect its forces. The 60th Rifles, 6th Carabineers, and Major Tombs' battery of Horse Artillery from Meerut, had the honour of first opening the ball. The old 60th gave it them in right good style; and the gentlemen from Delhi got a taste of the Carabineers, but, not having an appetite for any more of such treatment, bolted into the city, leaving all their guns behind them. This force was afterwards joined by one from Umballah, and then marched upon the doomed city, which they were not strong enough to attack, so they pitched their camp on the parade ground, telling the Mutineers plainly that a day of retribution was at hand, that every English bayonet was destined to exact revenge--yea, a fearful revenge--for their murdered countrymen and countrywomen, and the poor helpless children.

AT BENARES AND ALLAHABAD.

A YOUTHFUL HERO.