# The Indian Mutiny of 1857/Chapter 13

CHAPTER XIII.
NEILL AT BANÁRAS AND ALLAHÁBÁD—HAVELOCK'S RECOVERY OF KÁNHPUR.
I have told in a previous chapter how, on the 23d of May, the 1st Madras Fusiliers, commanded by Colonel Neill, an officer of great decision of character, reached Calcutta, and how the regiment was despatched with all the expedition possible to the North-West. Neill reached Banáras, the morning of the 4th of June, at a very critical moment. To understand the crisis it will be necessary to explain the state of affairs in that important centre.
The city of Banáras lies nearly midway between Calcutta and Dehlí, being 469 miles north-west of the former and 485 south-east of the latter. The normal population is about a quarter of a million, but the number ebbs and flows with the arrival and departure of pilgrims. The city lies picturesquely on the left bank of the Ganges, which, in 1857, was crossed by a bridge of boats. The district of which the city is the capital has an area of 998 square miles, and a population of, in round numbers, 900,000. It is bounded to the north by Gházípur and Juánpur, to the west and south by Mírzápur, and to the east by the Sháhábád district of Western Bihár.
At the time of which I am writing the garrison of Banáras consisted of half a company of European artillery — some thirty men — of the Sikh regiment of Lodiáná, and of the 13th Regiment of Irregular Cavalry: ​The cantonment for the infantry was at Sikrol, three miles from the city, that of the cavalry was some five miles distant. The force was commanded by Brigadier George Ponsonby, a man who had rendered excellent service in his day; but he had only just assumed command, and was suffering from ill-health and increasing years.
The citizens of Banáras had always had the character of being a turbulent people. They required a master who would be obeyed. Fortunately, in 1857, they had such a master in the person of Mr Frederick Gubbins, of the Civil Service, then District Judge. Some years before, when that gentleman filled the office of Magistrate of Banáras, he had inaugurated sanitary and other improvements within the city. The inhabitants showed their appreciation of these improvements by receiving Mr Gubbins, on the occasion of his next visit to the city, with a shower of stones, and by compelling him to run for his life. But Mr Gubbins was not the man to be baffled. He persisted in carrying out his reforms. The people, on their side, seemed equally determined. They closed their shops, and declined to sell grain or other wares. But Mr Gubbins was firm. He procured supplies from Mírzápur, and when, three days later, he heard that the leaders of the movement were about to hold a meeting in the city, he proceeded to the spot with two companies of sipáhís, arrested them, and lodged them in gaol. The next morning he rode through the city and opened all the shops. From that moment Mr Gubbins was lord of Banáras.
In 1857 Mr Henry Carre Tucker was the Commissioner of Banáras. But, from the moment affairs there assumed a threatening attitude, the strong character of Mr Gubbins asserted itself, and he became practically ​supreme. Well supported by the Magistrate, Mr Lind, by the assistants, Mr Archibald Pollock and Mr Jenkinson, by a loyal native nobleman, Ráo Devnáráin Singh, by a brave and resolute Sikh gentleman, detained in Banáras for complicity in some of the troubles in the Panjáb, Surat Singh, and to a considerable though lesser extent by the Rájá of Banáras, and by an influential Brahman, Pandit Gokal Chand, he maintained order in the populous city until the arrival and action of Neill and his troops removed the pressing danger.
For very soon after the information of the events at Mírath and Dehlí reached Banáras it became clear that the sipáhís of the 37th N. I. were infected, and would break out on the first convenient opportunity. They were somewhat restrained by the presence of the Sikhs, who were believed to be loyal to the core. Of the probable behaviour of the 13th Irregulars few except the officers of that regiment entertained the smallest doubt. The position, then, was critical, and it was recognised to be so specially by those civilians upon whom it devolved to maintain peace and order within the city.
One resolution Mr Gubbins and his friends stood by in the darkest hour of the crisis, and that was to remain at their post. In the early days proposals were made to abandon the position and retreat to the fortress of Chanár. But Messrs Gubbins and Lind, Gordon, who commanded the Sikhs, Dodgson the Brigade-Major, and one or two others opposed this plan so resolutely that it was abandoned. Nor when the districts round and near to Banáras broke out into rebellion did they swerve a hair's-breadth from that determination. The one precaution which, in concert with the military authorities, they did take was to fix upon a strong central post to serve as a place of refuge for the ladies and children. The ​mint, a large, oblong, fire-proof brick building, capable of holding out against men unprovided with guns, was selected for this purpose.
Towards the end of May the English at Banáras were cheered by the arrival of 150 men of the 10th Foot from Dánápur, and on the 3d and 4th of June, Colonel Neill, with some sixty men of the 1st Madras Fusiliers, followed. On the morning of the 4th news reached the place of the mutiny of the 17th N. I. at Ázamgarh. A council was then called of the chief civil and military authorities to consider the advisability of disarming the 37th N. I. Gubbins, Gordon, Dodgson, and all the bolder spirits were in favour of carrying out that necessary measure at once. They were listening to the strong recommendations of Mr Gubbins on this point when Neill himself entered the room, and in his plain, blunt way insisted that delay would be fraught with imminent danger. Orders then were issued for a parade of the troops of the garrison at five o'clock that afternoon.
The lines of the 37th N. I. were in the centre of the general parade ground, about midway between those occupied by the Sikhs and by the artillery. The question was how, with the 250 Europeans, to disarm a native regiment, nearly a thousand strong, in the presence of three or four hundred cavalry, suspected of sympathy with them, and of a Sikh regiment, believed to be loyal, but whose loyalty must remain unproven until it had been tried. It was a difficult question, and I am bound to add that it was solved in a very clumsy fashion. Before the men of the 37th had formed up in front of their lines, the artillery and the few men of the 10th and the Madras Fusiliers had taken up a position on their right, the Sikhs and irregular cavalry on their left. Colonel Spottiswoode and the English officers of the 37th ​then walked down the lines of their regiment, and directed the men to lodge their muskets in the bells of arms attached to each company. Some of them quietly obeyed, but others, calling out that the Europeans were coming to shoot them down unarmed, incited the rest to resist. Their appeal was responded to, for suddenly the sipáhís grasped their muskets, and noticing the Europeans approaching from the right, faced towards them and opened a brisk fire. At the first fire some eight men of the 10th Foot were shot down. This was more than could be borne. The English infantry returned the fire, still moving on, whilst the guns, unlimbering, poured in a volley of grape. Meanwhile, a shot from a sipáhí of the 37th had killed Captain Guise, commandant of the 13th Irregulars. Dodgson, the Brigade Major, as brave a man as ever lived, and as modest as he was brave, rode up to the men, and taking command, ordered them to advance. Instead of obeying, one trooper drew his pistol and fired at Dodgson. Another attempted to cut him down. At this crisis one of the Sikhs fired upon his colonel, Gordon. The rest of them, not knowing apparently what to make of the position, began shouting and firing indiscriminately, their muskets levelled in the direction in which the guns were posted. The guns were unsupported, for the English infantry was following the 37th N. I., and it seemed as though the Sikhs and the irregulars were about to charge them. But the commandant of the artillery, William Olpherts, was quite equal to the occasion. He turned the fire of his battery upon the Sikhs. These then wildly charged, only, however, to be broken and to flee in disorder. The troopers of the 13th accompanied them. The ​men of the 37 N. I. were already dispersing in wild disorder.
But the danger was not yet over. So clumsy had been the programme that the sipáhís had been allowed to escape with arms in their hands, in close vicinity to a populous city, the inhabitants of which were renowned for their turbulent character. In this crisis Frederick Gubbins, Súrat Singh, Devnáráin Singh, and other loyal men were able to render splendid service. The Sikhs on guard over the assembled non-combative Europeans were pacified by Súrat Singh, himself a Sikh. Gubbins, entering the city, exerted the supreme influence which his character as a resolute but just man had gained for him. The citizens preferred to trust him rather than cast in their lot with rebellious sipáhís. His vigorous action, that of Surat Singh, supported by Devnáráin Singh, by the Rájá of Banáras, and by Pandit Gokal Chand, preserved the great city of Banáras to the British.
Meanwhile, Neill was not idle. In the midst of the contest he had assumed command. Some of the 13th Irregulars had remained faithful. The Sikhs, recovering from their mad escapade, returned to their duty. The indigo planters of the district, prominently Mr F. C. Chapman, volunteered their services. In a few days order was restored in the immediate vicinity of the holy city. The presence of Mr Gubbins and his companions was a voucher that that order would not be again disturbed. Other European troops were coming up from below. On the 9th of June, then, Neill, full of resolution to save Allahábád and to recover Kánhpur, set out for the former place.
​While he is hastening to it, I must ask the reader to glance at the districts which, with Banáras, face the south-east frontier of Oudh — the districts of Juánpur, of Ázamgarh, and of Gorákhpur. I will not detain him long.
The landowners of those districts had been made hostile to British rule by the introduction of that land system with which Mr Thomason, forcing European ideas upon an oriental people, had superseded the time-honoured methods which not even Akbar had dared to repeal. Ázamgarh was the first to display disaffection. The bulk of the 17th Regiment N. I. stationed there rose on the 3d of June, and though the place, abandoned by the civilians, was afterwards recovered by two men cast in the heroic type, Messrs Venables and Dunn, it continued for a very long time to be a festering sore in the British side. At Juánpur, nearly midway between Banáras and Ázamgarh, the Sikhs stationed there, excited by the story of the manner in which their countrymen had been mowed down at Banáras, rose on the 5th of June. That place, though constantly reoccupied, continued to give trouble until the autumn of the following year. Gorákhpur, on the Nipál side of Ázamgarh, saved for a long time by the splendid daring and cool judgment of its Judge, Mr William Wynyard, gave way in July. Few districts gave more trouble during the revolt, or afforded more scope for the display of the noblest qualities of the British race, than did those three districts — bounded to the north-west by Oudh, to the north by Nipál, to the south by the city of Banáras, and to the south-east by the inflammable division of Western Bihar — represented by Juánpur, Ázamgarh, and Gorákhpur.
Meanwhile, Neill, accompanied by forty-three men of his splendid regiment, had left Banáras by post, on the night of the 9th of June, to assume command at Allahábád. ​His journey was a difficult one, for the road was deserted, the post-horses had been carried off, and the district was full of marauders. It was not, then, till the afternoon of the 11th that he and his party reached Jhúsí, a village on the high bank overlooking the junction of the Jamnah and the Ganges, and the point where the road from Banáras passed over the bridge of boats then maintained across the former river. But Neill found the bridge partially destroyed, and the further end of it occupied by the rebels. He noticed that Daryáganj, a suburb of Allahábád, which commanded that further end, was also in their possession. He knew, too, that his men were worn out by fatigue. But the great aim of Neill's life was to conquer difficulties. Descending the Ganges, he espied and hailed a fisherman pursuing his craft in a solitary boat. He bought the man, and was about to trust 'Cæsar and his fortunes' to the frail canoe when the English guard on duty on the ramparts of the fort of Allahábád recognised his men. Boats were then sent over in sufficient numbers.
Neill entered the fort. He was aware that the task before him was a heavy one; that to restore order the means at his disposal were scanty. In his journey from Banáras he had noticed that the entire country along the Ganges was in a state of anarchy. He now found the fort invested: the troops who mainly formed the garrison — the Sikhs of the same regiment he had laid his hand upon at Banáras — coaxed into the appearance of subordination: confusion and disorder in every department: an unchecked enemy without, vacillation ruling within.
He immediately assumed command. Notwithstanding his fatigue, and the exhaustion consequent upon it, he did not sleep until he had arranged his plans for the morrow. The day of the 12th had scarcely dawned when he opened fire from the fort on the suburb of Daryáganj, held by a large ​body of insurgent rabble. When he had cleared the outskirts with a few rounds he despatched the forty-three men of his own regiment, three companies of Sikhs, and forty native horsemen to expel the rebels from the suburb and secure the bridge of boats. This they accomplished without loss. He then repaired the bridge, and placed a company of Sikhs to guard it. A company of the fusiliers from Banáras crossed it that same afternoon to enter the fort.
The next day and the day following he continued his reorganising measures. With great tact he moved the Sikhs to a position outside the fort. He bought up all the liquor, and lodged it in the Government stores. On the 15th he despatched by steamer to Calcutta the numerous women and children, and then cleared of the enemy the villages in immediate vicinity to the fort. The effect of these strong measures was quickly visible. On the 17th the Magistrate, Mr Court, proceeded to the city, and reinstalled his own officials at the Kotwálí. Not only was there no resistance, but the whole place seemed deserted. The Maulaví himself had fled to Kánhpur. Neill improved the occasion by marching the following day, with his whole force, to the cantonment, the scene of the massacre of their own officers by the men of the 6th N. I. He found that a complete reaction had set in, that terror had taken the place of insolence, that the desire to escape punishment had succeeded to the love of killing.
Leaving to the authorities appointed under the martial law, which had been proclaimed, to deal with rebels and murderers, Neill proceeded to develop the plan he had arranged in his own mind, viz., a march, as soon as possible, to the relief of Kánhpur. On the 18th his force amounted to 360 English soldiers. The same day 150 more arrived. He had placed on a serviceable footing the Commissariat and Transport departments. These had procured carts and ​camels, and more were coming in. His executive officers, Captain Russell, in the Ordnance department, Captain Davidson of the Commissariat, Captain Brown of the artillery, were working with a will. The natives, too, were now displaying untiring energy on behalf of the British cause. Messrs Chester and Court, of the Civil Service, were rendering invaluable aid. Cholera, though it came, did not stop the efforts of a single man of that heroic band. On the 24th the force had attained somewhat larger proportions, so much so that Neill could talk of the advance on Kánhpur as a matter of a few days. That same day he heard that the Government had decided to entrust the command of the relieving force to Havelock. Bitterly as he felt the supersession, he did not in the least relax his efforts. On the afternoon of the 30th of June he despatched an advance force of 400 Europeans, 300 Sikhs, and 120 troopers, under one of his best officers, Major Renaud, on the road to Kánhpur. He arranged, also, to embark a hundred men and two guns, under Captain Spurgin, on a river steamer, under orders for the same destination. This intention was carried out — but by Havelock.
Havelock, in fact, reached Allahábád on the 30th of June, the day on which Renaud started. A very capable soldier, possessing large experience, and gifted with the power of leadership to a rare degree, Havelock was the very man for the situation. One may sympathise with Neill in his disappointment, and yet recognise that Henry Havelock was the fittest soldier in all India for the occasion. He at once took up the thread of Neill's preparations, despatched Spurgin and his steamer on the 3d of July, and at four o'clock of the evening of the 7th started at the head of his small brigade for Kánhpur.
Rumours of disaster at that place had reached Alla​hábád on the 2d. Neill disbelieved them. Even Havelock doubted. But not many hours elapsed after he set out ere the state of the districts gave to his mind the fullest confirmation of the worst reports.
The force led by Havelock from Allahábád, on the afternoon of the 7th of July, consisted of seventy-six artillerymen, 979 English infantry, taken from the 64th, the 78th, and the 84th Foot, eighteen volunteer cavalry, Englishmen, 150 Sikhs, and thirty irregular cavalry. He was preceded by Renaud's small detachment, already noted, and by Spurgin's 100 men on board the steamer. He left behind him Neill and the remainder of the 1st Madras Fusiliers, with instructions to follow as soon as another column should be organised and he should be able to consign the fort to proper hands.
In the selection of his staff Havelock had been particularly happy. From the 10th Foot he had taken his son, a daring soldier, full of resources, and eager for opportunities, as his Aide-de-Camp. Stuart Beatson, a man instructed, able, and devoted was his assistant Adjutant-General. Fraser Tytler, an excellent cavalry officer, was his assistant Quartermaster-General.
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The story of the mutiny at Fathpur may be told in a few words. The native troops stationed there, consisting of fifty men of the 6th N. I., had, after a show of loyalty, joined other rebels and mutineers in a general outbreak on the 9th of June. The Europeans, who for more than a fortnight had been daily expecting a rising, escaped, with one exception, to Bandah. That exception was Mr Robert Tucker, the Judge. He, after defending himself with great gallantry, and, if the testimony of a native Christian is to be believed, slaying sixteen men with his own hand, was captured, subjected to the forms of trial, and executed on the spot. The natives of Fathpur and of the districts around it, under the guidance of one Hikmat-ullah, a Deputy Magistrate under British rule, rose in revolt, and declared their readiness to submit to the authority then paramount at Kánhpur. It was to secure this place that Náná Sáhib now despatched a force composed of 1400 trained sipáhís, 1500 local levies, 500 trained cavalry, and 100 artillerymen, with twelve guns, to bar the road to the English. It was commanded by Tíká Singh, a Subáhdár of the 2d L. C, who had taken a prominent part in the leaguer of Kánhpur.
On reaching Balindah Havelock sent Tytler to the front to reconnoitre. Tytler came upon the rebels as they were marching, having passed through Fathpur, towards the British position. Their infantry, in column of route, held the high road, with three guns in front of the column, the remainder in the rear, and the cavalry on both flanks. These latter, noticing Tytler almost as soon as he saw them, dashed at him. Tytler had to ride hard to give timely information to Havelock. The latter, who ​was resting his troops after their early march, at once formed them in order of battle. He placed the guns, eight in number, commanded by Captain Maude, R.A., in front; in the same line with them a body of skirmishers, in loose order, armed with the Enfield rifle, then new in India, ready to open fire on the enemy as soon as he should appear. Behind the guns he disposed the several detachments of infantry, forming a line of quarter-distance columns ready to deploy. The eighteen volunteer-horse guarded the right flank; the bulk of the irregulars the left.
These dispositions had not quite been completed when the enemy's guns, now well within distance, opened fire, whilst their cavalry, galloping round, threatened the flanks of the English. For a few seconds their fire was unanswered. Only, however, for a few seconds. Then Maude, moving his battery to the front, opened fire, and in a second it became a species of duello at a distance of 400 yards between the rival guns, those of the British being backed up by the fire of the Enfield rifles. Very soon this double fire silenced that of the rebels, and Maude, pushing on to within 200 yards of the rebel infantry, poured upon them the fire which had silenced the guns. The English infantry advanced at the same time, and although the rebels seemed as though they would stand to protect their heavy guns, their resolution faded away in the presence of the advancing British, and they turned and fled.
During this time the rebel cavalry had been steadily manœuvring on both flanks. Their efforts on the British left were checked by the handful of volunteers; but on the right where the horsemen were, with the exception of the officers, entirely natives, a disaster threatened. Some eighteen or twenty of the rebel cavalry, advancing at ​a trot, called out to the men serving under Havelock to turn and join them. They seemed to hesitate, when Palliser, who commanded them, sounded the charge. He was followed by Simpson, the Adjutant, but by only three or four of the men. Noticing this, the rebels charged in their turn. In the scrimmage which followed Palliser was unhorsed, and it would have gone hard with him but that some of the men who had refused to follow him rallied round him and brought him off. The irregulars then fled, followed by the rebel cavalry.
Meanwhile, the main body of the infantry had pushed into Fathpur. Just as the right column entered it, Beatson, who was with it, noticed the handful of irregulars dashing towards it, followed by the mutinied 2d Cavalry. To halt, to allow the fugitives to pass through, then to pour upon the enemy a volley which sent them reeling back, was the work of a few moments. Whilst he was engaged in this, the centre and left had pushed through the one narrow street of the town, attacked the rear-guard of the rebels, driven it into flight, and captured all the baggage. Amongst the latter were two new six-pounders, large quantities of ammunition, and two tumbrils laden with specie. It was past midday when a final parting shot was sent after the retreating foe. The heat was intense. The sun, in fact, proved more deadly than the fire of the rebels. For though the casualties amounted to twelve, these had all been caused by sunstroke. It was one o'clock before the men of the little force, which had marched nineteen miles, and fought a pitched battle on an empty stomach, reached the encamping ground. They had captured twelve guns, and had given the perpetrators of the Kánhpur massacre a first lesson of retaliation. There was but one drawback to complete success. A victory, not followed up, can ​never be reckoned as complete. Havelock had no cavalry to follow up his victory. Eighteen volunteers — and he could then trust only Englishmen — were all insufficient to pursue thousands.
On the 13th Havelock gave his men a rest. The day following he resumed his advance, and as he marched received abundant ocular demonstrations of the precipitancy of the rebels' flight. The road was strewed with properties hurriedly cast away. The only event of importance which marked the day was the disarming of the native irregular cavalry. To mark his sense of the behaviour of these men in the Fathpur fight, Havelock had placed them on duty as baggage guards. It happened that as the force was marching, on the 14th, a report was made that the enemy were occupying a village in front. The guns were therefore brought up, and opened fire. The report turned out to be unfounded, but the native troopers took advantage of the firing of the guns to plunder the baggage. They were caught in the act, and promptly disarmed and dismounted. Havelock utilised their horses for the public service.
As the force was encamping that evening, information was brought to its leader that the rebels were in force at Aoung, a village some six miles distant. He marched, then, early the following morning, confident that he would have to fight them. The volunteers commanded by Captain Barrow, who formed the advance, descried them about daybreak, their position covered by an intrenchment thrown up across the road, and ready for the contest. Barrow galloped back with the information, followed by round-shot and by a body of 700 sipáhís, who promptly took possession of a hamlet, several hundred yards in front of their position, and opened from it a smart musketry fire. Havelock at once made his dispositions. Remaining with the ​rear-guard himself, he sent Tytler to the front with about a third of the force. Tytler ordered two companies of the Madras Fusiliers, under Renaud, to dislodge the rebels from the hamlet they had seized. Renaud started on this errand with his habitual gallantry, and carried it out thoroughly, though at the cost of his own life. He was struck in the thigh by a bullet, and died two days afterwards. Meanwhile, Maude's battery had come to the front and had begun to play on the intrenchment. The issue of his fire was not long doubtful. After a few rounds the rebels gave way. In the interval their cavalry had made a wide detour, in order to come round and plunder the baggage of the advancing force. A sergeant of the Highlanders, who had charge of it, saw them coming, and collecting his men, received them with so sharp a fire that they were glad to make off. Again did the enemy's guns fall into the hands of the victors. But they had fought better, and their fire had inflicted more damage, than had been the case at Fathpur.
But the work of the day was not yet over. The fight had lasted fully two hours. As the soldiers were resting after it, in the position whence they had dislodged the rebels, reports were brought to Havelock that the latter had retired to a very strong position, covered by a rivulet, swollen by the rains, known as Pándu Nadí. As the rivulet was unfordable at the season, Havelock recognised the importance of securing the stone bridge which crossed it ere it should be destroyed by the rebels. He therefore pushed on without delay, and after marching three miles came in sight of the rivulet, the stone bridge intact, and the rebels in force, covered by earthworks, on the opposite side. Another second and a puff of smoke, followed by the pounding shot, revealed the fact that the bridge was guarded by a twenty-four-pound gun and a ​twenty-five-pound carronade. Again was the order given to bring the guns to the front. Whilst a detachment of men, armed with the Enfield, moved down the lateral ravines and opened a steady musketry fire, Maude, moving forward under the fire of the enemy, held his reply until he had placed his guns in positions whence they could envelop the intrenchment in a concentric fire. No sooner had these opened than the fire of the rebels ceased as if by magic. It transpired that the very first discharge from Maude's guns had smashed their sponge staffs, and having none in reserve they could no longer load their pieces. They made one desperate effort to blow up the bridge — an effort which failed — and then gave way. Simultaneously the Madras Fusiliers advanced, followed by the Highlanders, and rapidly crossing the bridge, caught the rebel gunners ere they could escape, and bayoneted them as they stood or ran. Maude followed with his guns, and pounded the enemy as they fled. Havelock pushed on for a mile beyond the bridge, and then halted for the night. The British loss in the two actions was about thirty men killed and wounded. The most regretable of these was that of Major Renaud, an excellent officer, always to be depended upon.
The soldiers bivouacked that night on the spot whence the last gun was fired at the retreating enemy. That evening Havelock received information that Náná Sáhib, at the head, it was said, of 7000 men of all arms, would oppose his entry into Kánhpur on the morrow. But other information, to the effect that there were still alive in that station some 200 women and children of British blood, who had escaped the massacre of the 27th of June, cheered him and his men. 'With God's help, men,' he exclaimed, 'we shall save them, or every man of us die in the attempt.' Such was his spirit, such, also, the spirit of the men he commanded.
​Kánhpur was twenty-two miles distant from the spot on which the handful of British troops was encamped. For them there was but little sleep that night. The knowledge that some of their countrywomen were alive, and that it might be theirs to rescue them, had excited them to feverish impatience. Very early the following morning they were ranged in marching order. A tramp of sixteen miles brought them to the village of Máhárájpur. The sun was well up in the heavens, and the heat was fearful — greater than on any previous day. Halting there, Havelock despatched Barrow to the front for information. Barrow had not proceeded far when he met two loyal sipáhís on their way, at the risk of their lives, to convey to the leader of the avenging force the particulars they had carefully noted regarding the dispositions of Náná Sáhib. The information they gave was of the last importance. Náná Sáhib, they said, was in front, occupying, with about 5000 men and eight guns, a position about 800 yards in rear of the point where the branch road into Kánhpur leaves the grand trunk road. His left rested on an intrenched village, standing among trees on high ground, within a mile of the Ganges, and was defended by three twenty-four-pounders. His centre was covered by swampy ground, and by a low-lying hamlet, on the edge of which, commanding the trunk road, were a twenty-four-pound howitzer and a nine-pounder, covered by mud earthworks. His right was covered by a village in a mango grove, surrounded by a mud wall, through the embrasures of which two nine-pounders pointed their muzzles towards the fork. The sipáhís further reported that the rebels, certain that Havelock would advance towards the fork, had taken the measurements from their positions to that point very carefully, and had laid their guns with the view of meeting him with a concentrated fire.
​This timely information decided Havelock to attempt a turning movement. He halted long enough to allow his men to have their dinners, then 'remembering,' as he said, 'old Frederic at Leuthen,' he advanced, covered by his cavalry, until he reached a point where a line of groves, on his right, promised to cover a flanking movement in that direction. This point was within half-a-mile of the forking of the roads. Directing Barrow to move straight on, accompanied, to deceive the rebels, by a company of the Madras Fusiliers, in skirmishing order, on either side of the road, he marched with the bulk of the force to his right, covered by the groves spoken of. The enemy, meanwhile, believing that in the horse and foot in front of them they beheld the heads of the British columns, opened a concentrated fire on the fork. This lasted the time it took the main body to march half-a-mile. Havelock's leafy screen then failed him, and the rebels discovered to their surprise that their left flank had been all but turned, and they at once changed, as best they could, the direction of their fire. The English general, however, recognising that the turning movement was not completed, withheld all reply to the shot and shell, which soon came whizzing about him, until he had reached a point at a right angle to the enemy's position. He then wheeled into line and advanced against it.
The occasion was one which permitted a general to defy the rules which chain down pedants. Havelock had abandoned his baggage, his communication with Allahábád, and he had placed his army between his enemy and the mighty Ganges, at the full swell of her power. In taking each of these steps he deliberately broke the rules of war. But never was there a clearer proof given that such rules are not made to bind, and never will bind, a man of ​genius. And certainly, on that 16th of July, Havelock amply vindicated his claim to that title.
The time which had elapsed since the enemy caught sight of Havelock's turning movement and his completion of it, short as it was, had yet been sufficiently long to enable them to change their alignment, and to bring their guns to bear in the new direction. They had no longer, however, the exact knowledge of the distance, which they had hoped to utilise in the first position. But as Havelock advanced their superiority in weight of metal became perceptible, and Havelock recognised that there was nothing for it but the bayonet. When within eighty yards of the rebel batteries, then, he gave the order to charge. Like an eager pack of hounds racing to the kill the Highlanders dashed forward. In a few seconds they were over the mound covering the rebel position and into the village which they had held. They did not fire a shot or utter a shout, so fierce was their anger; but they did the work with the bayonet. It need scarcely be added that the slaughter was proportionate. But the great gun in the enemy's centre was now turned against the victorious soldiers. Havelock, noticing this, galloped up to the Highlanders, and with a few cheery words incited them to make one more charge. Then, indeed, they cheered, and scarcely waiting to make a regular formation, dashed on against the gun, led by the General in person. They carried it, completely smashing the rebel centre as they had smashed his left. Then they halted, impatient to direct their prowess in a new direction.
Nor had success been less pronounced on the right. There the 64th and the 84th, the Sikhs and Barrow's handful of volunteers, had forced back the rebels, and compelled them to concentrate in a village about a mile in the rear of their first position. To drive them from ​this position, a very strong one, was now the work before the undaunted infantry. The 64th approached it from the left, the Highlanders from the centre, whilst on the extreme right the Madras Fusiliers were carrying all before them. When the soldiers, tired and panting, arrived within charging distance, Havelock, appealing to the regimental spirit of rivalry, called out: 'Who is to take that village, the Highlanders or the 64th?' Instantly the two regiments raced for the village, and carried it without a check.
The battle now seemed won. After the storm of the village Havelock halted to reorganise his line, and then advanced up the low rise which covers the entrance into Kánhpur. But scarcely had he crowned the summit when a fierce fire opened upon him, and he beheld, drawn up at a distance of half-a-mile, straight in front of him, the reunited masses of rebel infantry. From their centre a twenty-four-pounder gun belched forth its fire, whilst two smaller pieces on either side of it followed its example. Conspicuously seated on an elephant was Náná Sáhib, moving about amongst the troops, encouraging them with sounds of native music and appeals to their fanaticism. The sight was as unexpected as it was formidable, for Havelock had fain hoped that the serious part of the business was over.
He had, indeed, need of all his coolness and self-possession. His men, who had marched twenty miles, and fought one fierce battle, were worn out. His guns were a mile in the rear, and the horses which had drawn them were knocked up. It was asking a great deal of the infantry soldier to require him to charge those masses and those guns. But Havelock recognised that there was nothing else to be done. He recognised, moreover, that if to be done at all it must be done at once, for the ​spirits of the soldiers were still high, and the sight was one calculated to discourage men not on the move. Realising the situation on the moment, he rode to the front on his pony — for his horse had been shot under him — and turning round to the men, sitting between them and the enemy's fire, he said in a high-pitched voice: 'The longer you look at it, men, the less you will like it. Rise up. The brigade will advance, left battalion leading.'
The left battalion was the 64th. I shall follow the example of the last of the biographers of Havelock, to whose vivid and picturesque account of the battle I am much indebted, and describe the action that followed in the words of the General himself: 'The enemy sent round-shot into our ranks until we were within 300 yards, and then poured in grape with such precision and determination as I have seldom witnessed. But the 64th, led by Major Sterling and by my Aide-de-Camp' — his son, the present Sir Henry Havelock-Allan — 'who had placed himself in their front, were not to be denied. Their rear showed the ground strewed with wounded; but on they steadily and silently came, then with a cheer charged and captured the unwieldy trophy of their valour. The enemy lost all heart, and, after a hurried fire of musketry, gave way in total rout. Four of my guns came up, and completed their discomfiture by a heavy cannonade; and as it grew dark the roofless barracks of our artillery were dimly descried in advance, and it was evident that Kánhpur was once more in our possession.' The little force bivouacked for the night on the edge of the plain which marks the entry into the station, about two miles from the town. They had neither food nor tents; they had marched twenty miles, and had defeated an enemy, stronger in all arms, outnumbering them by nearly five ​to one, and occupying a carefully prepared position, but they lay down happy because conscious of deserving. Well might Havelock tell them, as he did in the order he issued on the occasion, that 'he was satisfied and more than satisfied with them.' The troops and the general were alike worthy of one another. The loss sustained by the victors in this fierce contest was about 100 killed and wounded. Amongst those who passed away was Stuart Beatson, the Adjutant-General of the force, a daring and most accomplished officer, who fell a victim to cholera. Knowing his end approaching, he had yet insisted in following, on a tumbril, Barrow's cavalry into action. So keen was his soldierly perception that, despite his agony, he had pointed out to Barrow, at a critical phase of the action, an opportunity for a cavalry charge. That officer had promptly availed himself of the hint. In the very presence of the destroyer, whose clutch he knew to be upon him, Beatson could yet devote all his energies to the interests of his country. Such men are priceless. But the campaigns of the Crimea and Indian Mutiny proved that Great Britain had a store of them.
Meanwhile, Náná Sáhib had by a foul and barbarous massacre deprived the troops who had defeated him in the field of the most ardently desired fruits of their victory. When he saw, on the 15th, that the British soldiers were not to be withstood, when they had forced his position on the Pándu Nadí, and when he recognised that they would assail him in Kánhpur, he gave orders for the massacre of the women and children still confined in the little house I have described. These, with some fugitives from Fathgarh, numbered nearly 200. They were all, without one exception, brutally murdered by the myrmidons of the Náná, and their bodies were cast into a deep well adjacent to the house. The massacre was ​accompanied by circumstances of peculiar barbarity. It was a massacre which the Náná and those about him must have known was absolutely without excuse, even the excuse, which some crotcheteers, eager to excuse the enemies of England, have urged, of self-preservation. For those who were acquainted with the English character knew well that such an outrage, far from inducing Havelock to retire 'because there remained no one to be rescued,' would only stimulate his determination to exterminate the perpetrators.
So, in fact, it was. The next morning Tytler, who had been sent forward to reconnoitre, returned to report that the rebels had evacuated the city and its environs. Shortly before a concussion which shook the plain had conveyed the information that the magazine had been blown up. It was the last parting shot of the rebels. They retired, then, on Bithor.
After breakfast the troops marched into the station to witness the horrible and heart-rending sight I have spoken of. It was sufficient to stir up the mildest among them to revenge. But before that vengeance could be wreaked many things required to be accomplished. Havelock stood, indeed, victorious at Kánhpur. But it was a position, so to speak, in the air. Close to him, at Bithor, was, he was informed, the army of Náná Sáhib, still largely outnumbering his own. The Ganges alone separated him from the revolted province of Oudh, one spot in the capital of which, still held by Englishmen, was besieged and in imminent danger. At Kalpí, to the south-west, forty-five miles from Kánhpur, the mutinied Gwáliár contingent was gradually concentrating, and their presence there was a menace to his left rear. He had but 1100 men all told. On the 15th, presaging his early reoccupation of Kánhpur, he had directed Neill to bring ​him all the reinforcements he could. Neill brought him 227 men on the 20th, a mere handful. The position was difficult in the extreme. To hold Kánhpur at all with such a force as his, with an enemy in front, an enemy on his right flank, and an enemy making for his left rear, was against all rules. But Havelock, we have seen, knew when to discard rules. With a noble courage he resolved, then, first to storm the position of the rebel chieftain who had ordered the massacre of his countrymen, and then to make a desperate effort to ward from the English, nobly defending the Lakhnao Residency, the fate which had overtaken Wheeler and his party at Kánhpur. He had the right to hope that the troops which he knew were daily reaching Calcutta would be sent on to strengthen him.
Before describing his action it is necessary to bestow a glance on the position of affairs within the Lakhnao Residency.
* ↑ It was of this officer that the late Lord Napier of Magdala said to me, that 'William Olpherts never went into action without entitling himself to the Victoria Cross.'
* ↑ For their conduct during these trying times Mr Gubbins was made a Companion of the Bath; Rao Devnáráin Singh and Súrat Singh received titles and rewards. The Rájá, too, received the thanks of the Government.
* ↑ Havelock. By Archibald Forbes. Macmillan, 1890.