Chapter IX

CONTINUATION OF INDIAN CAMPAIGN--THE REBELLION QUELLED--CLOSE OF THE WAR.

We took the field again in the latter end of 1857, and marched down to Allahabad, and opened the campaign under favourable circumstances. The sepoys fled at our approach; fort after fort was in our possession; arms were captured, and many of the enemy taken prisoners. I recollect at one of these places we came unexpectedly on them while they were cooking, and their capture was complete. Some of them implored us to spare their lives, but their crime was so heinous that we arranged them in single file, gave them a few moments to think of their future state, and with the Enfield rifle we settled their account. Some awful scenes were witnessed in this second campaign; sometimes we would come across piles of their bodies burning to ashes. Another mode of exterminating those cruel savages was by blowing them from heavy guns, after trying them by drum-head court-martial, telling them of their severe crime, and the doom that awaited them. The 32-pounder was placed in the centre of the square, the mutineer’s hands were tied behind his back, the word was given to fire, and the place that knew him once knew him no more!

There was a great range of mud forts in the direction of the Nepaul Hills, said to be strongly fortified by the rebels, and to this place we proceeded at once, suffering greatly from want of water, and the poor and forlorn soldier had again to endure the fatigues and hardships of an eastern climate. “Patience and progress” was our motto. We called to our minds times gone by, and that, under the blessing of Divine Providence, the period would soon arrive when this great calamity, war, would be at an end, and that we would get that repose and quiet of which we so much stood in need; yet, there was something to be done before these our bright prospects were to be realized. Onward, then, to victory, and crush the tiger in his lair!

We arrived at the very strong fort of Rampoorkusie, and found the rebels determined to make a stand. Our batteries of artillery were placed in front, supported by our cavalry. After opening a heavy fire, we crossed the outer ditch, scaled the walls, and carried all before us. The enemy had no stronghold now; they fled to the hills, hotly pursued by our troops. They now began to loose hope; they threw away their arms and ammunition, and implored our mercy. What could these blood-thirsty villains expect? Death was their doom! Some met their fate coolly; others again would give way--their guilty consciences were speaking against them. We followed them to their last lurking places, and the rebellion which shook our empire in the East was now nearly quenched. Well was the selection made in sending Sir Colin Campbell out to India as Commander-in-chief; and well did he deserve to be raised to the peerage by the title of Lord Clyde. He is now no more; but his memory will be ever green in the hearts of the beloved soldiers whom he so often led on to victory. He was generous as he was brave; endeared to those whom he commanded; he would call them his children; but now he is gone; his spirit hath fled to regions beyond the grave.

There was still a little work going on in Central India, searching after Nana Sahib, and capturing parties suspected of mutiny; but as I took no part in these raids, I will pass up with my regiment to Meen-Meer, a very good station, with commodious quarters, and good clean bedding. We longed to rest our weary limbs on our _charpay_ (bed.) We had upwards of six hundred miles to travel. I will not tire the reader with long marches, parched tongues, and so on. Suffice it to say, that after three months’ wandering in search of a home, I awoke early one morning in Meen-Meer Barracks, lying on the ground, having tumbled out of my _charpay_ while asleep. Having during my last two campaigns been accustomed to have the ground for my bed, it appeared that I wished to resume my former custom on this my first night in quarters.

What surprised me very much out in India was the gross superstition prevalent in the religious ceremonies of the Brahmans. I will here mention a little affair that I very often witnessed amongst them. They take a bullock (a Brahman bull with them is sacred in their eyes) and decorate him with a scarlet cloth, paint him on the forehead, and tie a string of beads around his neck. They then assemble in numbers, place the animal in the centre, and while he kneels, each of the natives touches him in some particular part, at the same time roaring out in frantic joy, “_Salam! salam!_”--that means, greeting the furious animal with reverence. The beast appears to know all that passes, and as each of the little black urchins gives him a pomegranate or a piece of sugar cane, he bows his head to the ground, in token that he has now thanked them. This done, they dance several times around him; they then resume their sitting posture, and the bullock rises up and shakes himself; they then disrobe him, and he walks slowly out of the circle. A dog belonging to one of the men in the regiment seized one of those bullocks by the nose, and held on like grim death, the affrightened animal running up one street and down another, the dog still holding on by the upper part of the nose, the natives all the time howling and tearing their hair at thus beholding one of their religious objects of worship beat and bitten by one of the canine tribe.

I recollect one time of going down the Ganges, and at a place opposite Cawnpore I observed a great number of Hindoos singing and calling upon their god, who was by this time lying at the bottom of the river. What was my surprise and astonishment on seeing them dragging along by the banks of the river a carved stone, representing the figure of a man. They appeared to be greatly disappointed, for when throwing him into the river they would persist in the belief that this dumb idol could, after being thrown into the river, come out if he had a mind; and when he did not appear above the surface of the water, they would say that he fell asleep, and would make his appearance at some other time. They hooked this fellow, and drew him to the side, and after examining him, threw him in again, and called upon him time after time to shew himself to the crowd. They do this very often, and they are so superstitious and decided in their belief, that they put off day after day in this manner. Poor deluded creatures! they spend the natural period of their existence in this world without ever knowing any better that truth which makes free.

The native _durgie wallahs_ (tailors) found plenty of work; cotton trousers and jackets were made on the shortest notice. We had some very good water baths at this station, and we scrubbed and rubbed the dust of former days away from us, and, upon the whole, we were, comparatively speaking, very comfortable. The weather was getting excessively hot; but still, we managed to have a game at cricket before the sun’s scorching rays affected us. We got up amusements of various kinds to carry us back to times gone by. We had a very good regimental library, and often had newspapers from home, which were indeed interesting to us. Time rolled on in this manner, when we were ordered to Ferozopore, another very good station, but infested very much with bugs. There was no chance of sleep here. After lying down for the night, the “enemy” would make a sortie upon us, then right and left we would have it from them--they would take possession of our domicile, and we were obliged to pace the verandah all night. We remained here for a short time, when the regiment was ordered to the frontiers of India, and Nowshera was the station assigned us, and a very long and tedious march we found it. However, we overcame every difficulty, and arrived at Nowshera.

Here I made up my mind to leave the army, and return to my native land. The officer of my company was very much opposed to my taking this step. He told me, and I have since found it to be true, that my constitution was greatly shattered and weakened by the severe struggles and hardships of former days. How often, since then, have I felt the truth of his remarks. This officer, Lieut. T. B. Dougal, the commander of my company, is now no more. I cannot close this little book without making a remark or two upon this brave officer, who was an ornament to his profession, and beloved by the officers and men of his regiment. The high spirit of bravery, which was so conspicuous in his nature, often led to victory the men whom he commanded. Although only a subaltern, he gave so many proofs of his valour, that, had he been spared, he would no doubt have adorned the list of our best and bravest generals; but, alas! he is gone--his spirit hath fled to regions beyond the grave. It is since I commenced this little work that I heard of his death. In leading a handful of his men against the hill tribes, he was overpowered by numbers, and lost his life, serving with honour his Queen and country. It is now with painful feelings I deplore his loss, being often led on by his word of command--onward and to victory. Often do I think of his affectionate and kind words, and of the many good advices he gave me ere I left India; but although he is gone, his memory shall lie within this beating heart while life remains.

After making up my mind to return home, I felt very much at the thought of leaving my regiment, being at this time nearly twelve years along with it. I was now one of the very few survivors of the Crimean war; and as I shook hands affectionately in parting with those who, along with myself, braved many storms and great dangers, I could not help shedding a tear; and my farewell to the regiment I rhymed in the following manner:--

Farewell! gallant comrades, it may be for ever--
Farewell to the thistle, the claymore, and feather;
Oh sad do I part with a regiment so true
As the clan of Lochiel, with their bonnets so blue.
Twelve tedious years have I weather’d the storm--
Sometimes I was happy, and sometimes forlorn;
But the thought of my regiment, which always proved true,
Entwines round my heart, with my bonnet so blue.
How oft have we wandered through flood and through field,
And in many sharp fight made the enemy yield;
Our hearts to our country were loyal and true--
Our watchword, “The Queen, and our bonnets so blue.”
’Midst carnage and strife, we have oft seen the day,
Made the Russians and sepoys alike run away;
With Lord Clyde at our head--a chief always true--
We would brave every storm, with our bonnets so blue.
If chance leads the way, I’ll to Scotland return,
At the sound of the pibroch and beat of the drum;
My heart will rejoice and my spirits renew
To welcome the Camerons, with their bonnets so blue.
Farewell! then, my officers and comrades dear,
In times of reflection I’ll oft drop a tear;
And if ever your swords will be lifted anew,
May victory crown you, with your bonnets so blue!

After parting with my regiment, I arrived at Kurrachee, after a march of four months, and remained there for a few days, previous to embarkation. In my next chapter I present a diary of my homeward passage; it may be amusing and interesting to some of my readers.

Standing by the shore of a far distant land, viewing at a distance the noble vessel that is to carry me over the deep--to my own sweet home in Scotland--multitudes of thoughts arose within my mind; yet, in bidding farewell to India, I thought of the great Eastern empire, so rich in its natural productions, and great in its importance to Great Britain, and where so lately sprang up that rebellion made memorable by the terrible usage our countrymen and women received at the hands of the cruel sepoys. I could not but call to mind the alarming and horrible scenes I had so often witnessed and taken part in during the time of the rebellion--away in a far distant land, where no word of comfort, no look of sympathy, and no tender hand was reached forth to close the eyes of the dying soldier! How many brave and gallant comrades have I seen cut down and dying around me, no more to behold the smiles of a fond mother, nor the sweet words of an affectionate wife! Yet, when others fell around me, I received no hurt--a kind Providence had spared me. While I live, I shall remember the years I have spent in India, exposed to a cloudless sky and scorching sun, and to the fire of the sepoy mutineers;--but I must return from my reflections.