[10] The _bheesties_, or water-carriers, have been noted for bravery and fidelity in every Indian campaign.
[11] Now Colonel Bendyshe Walton, C.I.E.
[12] Kavanagh was a European clerk in one of the newly-inst.i.tuted Government offices.
[13] _Bagh_ means a garden, usually surrounded by high walls.
[14] See note at end of chapter.
[15] The great Mussulman carnival.
[16] Religious mendicants.
[17] "Victory to the _Khalsa_!"
CHAPTER IV
THE NINETY-THIRD--ANECDOTES OF THE SECUNDRABaGH--GENERAL EWART--THE SHaH NUJEEF
In the first chapter of these reminiscences I mentioned that, before leaving Dover, the Ninety-Third obtained a number of volunteers from the other Highland regiments serving in England. Ours was the only Highland regiment told off for the China expedition, and it was currently whispered that Lord Elgin had specially asked for us to form his guard of honour at the court of China after he had administered a due castigation to the Chinese. Whether the report was true or not, the belief did the regiment no harm; it added to the _esprit de corps_ which was already a prominent feeling in the regiment, and enabled the boys to boast to the girls in Portsmouth that they were "a cut above" the other corps of the army. In support of this, the fact is worthy of being put on record that although the regiment was not (as is usually the case) confined to barracks the night before embarking, but were allowed leave till midnight, still, when the time to leave the barracks came, there was not a single man absent nor a prisoner in the guard-room; and General Britain put it in garrison orders that he had never been able to say the same of any other corps during the time he had commanded the Portsmouth garrison. But the Ninety-Third were no ordinary regiment.
They were then the most Scotch of all the Highland regiments; in brief, they were a military Highland parish, minister and elders complete. The elders were selected from among the men of all ranks,--two sergeants, two corporals, and two privates; and I believe it was the only regiment in the army which had a regular service of Communion plate; and in time of peace the Holy Communion, according to the Church of Scotland, was administered by the regimental chaplain twice a year. I hope the young second battalion of the Argyle and Sutherland Highlanders are like the old Ninety-Third in this respect. At the same time, I don"t ask them ever to pray for the men who took away the numbers from our regiments; may their beards be defiled, is the only feeling I have for them. By taking away the old numbers a great deal was lost, and as far as I can see nothing has been gained except confusion and the utter effacement of all the old traditions of the army. The old numbers could easily have been retained along with the territorial designations. I hope at all events that the present regiment will never forget they are the descendants of the old Ninety-Third, the "Thin Red Line" which Sir Colin Campbell disdained to form four deep to meet the Russian cavalry on the morning of the memorable 25th of October, 1854:--"Steady, Ninety-Third, keep steady! d.a.m.n all that eagerness!" were Sir Colin"s memorable words. But I am describing the relief of Lucknow, not the "Thin Red Line" of Balaclava.
Among the volunteers who came from the Seventy-Second was a man named James Wallace. He and six others from the same regiment joined my company. Wallace was not his real name, but he never took any one into his confidence, nor was he ever known to have any correspondence. He neither wrote nor received any letters, and he was usually so taciturn in his manner that he was known in the company as the Quaker, a name which had followed him from the Seventy-Second. He had evidently received a superior education, for if asked for any information by a more ignorant comrade, he would at once give it; or questioned as to the translation of a Latin or French quotation in a book, he would give it without the least hesitation. I have often seen him on the voyage out walking up and down the deck of the _Belleisle_ during the watches of the night, repeating the famous poem of Lamartine, _Le Chien du Solitaire_, commencing:
Helas! rentrer tout seul dans sa maison deserte Sans voir a votre approche une fenetre ouverte.
Taking him all in all Quaker Wallace was a strange enigma which no one could solve. When pressed to take promotion, for which his superior education well fitted him, he absolutely refused, always saying that he had come to the Ninety-Third for a certain purpose, and when that purpose was accomplished, he only wished to die
With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe!
And leaving in battle no blot on his name, Look proudly to Heaven from the death-bed of fame.
During the march to Lucknow it was a common thing to hear the men in my company say they would give a day"s grog to see Quaker Wallace under fire; and the time had now come for their gratification.
There was another man in the company who had joined the regiment in Turkey before embarking for the Crimea. He was also a man of superior education, but in many respects the very ant.i.thesis of Wallace. He was both wild and reckless, and used often to receive money sent to him from some one, which he as regularly spent in drink. He went under the name of Hope, but that was also known to be an a.s.sumed name, and when the volunteers from the Seventy-Second joined the regiment in Dover, it was remarked that Wallace had the address of Hope, and had asked to be posted to the same company. Yet the two men never spoke to one another; on the contrary they evidently hated each other with a mortal hatred. If the history of these two men could be known it would without doubt form material for a most sensational novel.
Just about the time the men were tightening their belts and preparing for the dash on the breach of the Secundrabagh, this man Hope commenced to curse and swear in such a manner that Captain Dawson, who commanded the company, checked him, telling him that oaths and foul language were no signs of bravery. Hope replied that he did not care a d---- what the captain thought; that he would defy death; that the bullet was not yet moulded that would kill him; and he commenced exposing himself above the mud wall behind which we were lying. The captain was just on the point of ordering a corporal and a file of men to take Hope to the rear-guard as drunk and riotous in presence of the enemy, when Pipe-Major John M"Leod, who was close to the captain, said: "Don"t mind the puir lad, sir; he"s not drunk, he is fey! [meaning doomed]. It"s not himself that"s speaking; he will never see the sun set." The words were barely out of the pipe-major"s mouth when Hope sprang up on the top of the mud wall, and a bullet struck him on the right side, hitting the buckle of his purse belt, which diverted its course, and instead of going right through his body it cut him round the front of his belly below the waist-belt, making a deep wound, and his bowels burst out falling down to his knees. He sank down at once, gasping for breath, when a couple of bullets went through his chest and he died without a groan. John M"Leod turned and said to Captain Dawson, "I told you so, sir. The lad was fey!
I am never deceived in a fey man! It was not himself who spoke when swearing in yon terrible manner." Just at this time Quaker Wallace, who had evidently been a witness of Hope"s tragic end, worked his way along to where the dead man lay, and looking on the distorted features he solemnly said, "The fool hath said in his heart, there is no G.o.d.
Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the Lord. _I came to the Ninety-Third to see that man die!_" All this happened only a few seconds before the a.s.sault was ordered, and attracted but little attention except from those who were immediate witnesses of the incident. The gunners were falling fast, and almost all eyes were turned on them and the breach. When the signal for the a.s.sault was given, Quaker Wallace went into the Secundrabagh like one of the Furies, if there are male Furies, plainly seeking death but not meeting it, and quoting the 116th Psalm, Scotch version in metre, beginning at the first verse:
I love the Lord, because my voice And prayers He did hear.
I, while I live, will call on Him, Who bow"d to me His ear.
And thus he plunged into the Secundrabagh quoting the next verse at every shot fired from his rifle and at each thrust given by his bayonet:
I"ll of salvation take the cup, On G.o.d"s name will I call; I"ll pay my vows now to the Lord Before His people all.
It was generally reported in the company that Quaker Wallace single-handed killed twenty men, and one wonders at this, remembering that he took no comrade with him and did not follow Sir Colin"s rule of "fighting in threes," but whenever he saw an enemy he "went for" him! I may here remark that the case of Wallace proved that, in a fight like the Secundrabagh where the enemy is met hand to hand and foot to foot, the way to escape death is to brave it. Of course Wallace might have been shot from a distance, and in that respect he only ran an even chance with the others; but wherever he rushed with his bayonet, the enemy did their utmost to give him a wide berth.
By the time the bayonet had done its work of retribution, the throats of our men were hoa.r.s.e with shouting "Cawnpore! you b.l.o.o.d.y murderers!" The taste of the powder (those were the days when the muzzle-loading cartridges had to be bitten with the teeth) made men almost mad with thirst; and with the sun high over head, and being fresh from England, with our feather bonnets, red coats, and heavy kilts, we felt the heat intensely.
In the centre of the inner court of the Secundrabagh there was a large _peepul_[18] tree with a very bushy top, round the foot of which were set a number of jars full of cool water. When the slaughter was almost over, many of our men went under the tree for the sake of its shade, and to quench their burning thirst with a draught of the cool water from the jars. A number however lay dead under this tree, both of the Fifty-Third and Ninety-Third, and the many bodies lying in that particular spot attracted the notice of Captain Dawson. After having carefully examined the wounds, he noticed that in every case the men had evidently been shot from above. He thereupon stepped out from beneath the tree, and called to Quaker Wallace to look up if he could see any one in the top of the tree, because all the dead under it had apparently been shot from above. Wallace had his rifle loaded, and stepping back he carefully scanned the top of the tree. He almost immediately called out, "I see him, sir!" and c.o.c.king his rifle he repeated aloud,
I"ll pay my vows now to the Lord Before His people all.
He fired, and down fell a body dressed in a tight-fitting red jacket and tight-fitting rose-coloured silk trousers; and the breast of the jacket bursting open with the fall, showed that the wearer was a woman, She was armed with a pair of heavy old-pattern cavalry pistols, one of which was in her belt still loaded, and her pouch was still about half full of ammunition, while from her perch in the tree, which had been carefully prepared before the attack, she had killed more than half-a-dozen men.
When Wallace saw that the person whom he shot was a woman, he burst into tears, exclaiming: "If I had known it was a woman, I would rather have died a thousand deaths than have harmed her."
I cannot now recall, although he belonged to my company, what became of Quaker Wallace, whether he lived to go through the rest of the Mutiny or not. I have long since lost my pocket company-roll, but I think Wallace took sick and was sent to Allahabad from Cawnpore, and was either invalided to England or died in the country.
By this time all opposition had ceased, and over two thousand of the enemy lay dead within the building and the centre court. The troops were withdrawn, and the muster-roll of the Ninety-Third was called just outside the gate, which is still standing, on the level spot between the gate and the mound where the European dead are buried.
When the roll was called it was found that the Ninety-Third had nine officers and ninety-nine men, in all one hundred and eight, killed and wounded. The roll of the Fifty-Third was called alongside of us, and Sir Colin Campbell rode up and addressing the men, spoke out in a clear voice: "Fifty-Third and Ninety-Third, you have bravely done your share of this morning"s work, and Cawnpore is avenged!" Whereupon one of the Fifty-Third sang out, "Three cheers for the Commander-in-Chief, boys,"
which was heartily responded to.
All this time there was perfect silence around us, the enemy evidently not being aware of how the tide of victory had rolled inside the Secundrabagh, for not a soul escaped from it to tell the tale. The silence was so great that we could hear the pipers of the Seventy-Eighth playing inside the Residency as a welcome to cheer us all. There were lately, by the way, some writers who denied that the Seventy-Eighth had their bagpipes and pipers with them at Lucknow. This is not true; they had their pipes and played them too! But we had barely saluted the Commander-in-Chief with a cheer when a perfect hail of round-shot a.s.sailed us both from the Tara Kothi on our left and the Shah Nujeef on our right front. But I must leave the account of our storming the Shah Nujeef for a separate chapter.
I may here remark that on revisiting Lucknow I did not see a single tablet or grave to show that any of the Ninety-Third are buried there.
Surely Captains Dalzell and Lumsden and the men who lie in the mound to the east of the gate of the Secundrabagh are deserving of some memorial!
But it is the old, old story which was said to have been first written on the walls of Badajoz:
When war is rife and danger nigh, G.o.d and the Soldier is all the cry; When war is over, and wrongs are righted, G.o.d is forgot and the Soldier slighted.
I am surprised that the officers of the Ninety-Third Regiment have never taken any steps to erect some monument to the memory of the brave men who fell in Lucknow at its relief, and at the siege in March, 1858.
Neither is there a single tablet in the Memorial Church at Cawnpore in memory of the Ninety-Third, although almost every one of the other regiments have tablets somewhere in the church. If I were a millionaire I would myself erect a statue to Sir Colin Campbell on the spot where the muster-roll of the Ninety-Third was called on the east of the gate of the Secundrabagh, with a life-sized figure of a private of the Fifty-Third and Ninety-Third, a sailor and a Sikh at each corner, with the names of every man who fell in the a.s.sault on the 16th of November, 1857; and as the Royal Artillery were also there, Sir Colin should be represented in the centre standing on a gun, with a royal artilleryman holding a port-fire ready.
Since commencing these reminiscences I met a gentleman in Calcutta who told me that he had a cousin in the Ninety-Third, General J. A. Ewart, who was with the regiment in the storming of the Secundrabagh, and he asked me if I remembered General Ewart. This leads me to believe that it would not be out of place if I were to relate the following narrative.
General Ewart, now Sir John Alexander Ewart, I am informed, is still alive, and some mention of the part played by him, so far as I saw it, will form an appropriate conclusion to the story of the taking of the Secundrabagh. And should he ever read this narrative, I may inform him that it is written by one who was present when he was adopted into the Clan Forbes by our chief, the late Sir Charles Forbes, of Newe and Edingla.s.sie, Strathdon, Aberdeenshire, and this fact alone will make the general receive my remarks with the feelings of a clansman as well as of my old commander.
The reminiscence of Secundrabagh which is here reproduced was called forth, I should state, by a paragraph which appeared at the time in the columns of _The Calcutta Statesman_ regarding General Ewart. The paragraph was as follows:
General Ewart, not having been employed since he gave over the command of the Allahabad division on the 30th of November, 1879, was placed on the retired list on the 30th ultimo [Nov. 1884]. General Ewart is one of the few, if not the only general, who refused a transfer from the Allahabad Command to a more favourite division. He has served for over forty-six years, but has only been employed once since giving over the command of the Seventy-Eighth Highlanders in 1864, and that was for two and a half years in this country.
He commanded the Ninety-Third for about eighteen months before joining the Seventy-Eighth. He is in possession of the Crimean medal with four clasps, a novelty rather nowadays. He lost his left arm at the battle of Cawnpore.
I accordingly wrote to _The Statesman_ desiring to correct a slight inaccuracy in the statement that "General Ewart commanded the Ninety-Third for about eighteen months before joining the Seventy-Eighth." This is not, I remarked, strictly correct; General Ewart never commanded the Ninety-Third in the sense implied. He joined the regiment as captain in 1848, exchanging from the old Thirty-Fifth Royal Suss.e.x with Captain Buchanan of the Ninety-Third, and served in the regiment till he received the regimental rank of lieutenant-colonel on the death, at Fort Rooyah in April, 1858, of the Hon. Adrian Hope.
Colonel Ewart was then in England on sick-leave, suffering from the loss of his arm and other wounds and exchanged into the Seventy-Eighth with Colonel Stisted about the end of 1859, so that he never actually commanded the Ninety-Third for more than a few days at most. I will now give a few facts about him which may interest old soldiers at least.
During the whole of his service in the Ninety-Third, both as captain and field-officer, Colonel Ewart was singularly devoted to duty, while careful, considerate, and attentive to the wants of his men in a way that made him more beloved by those under his command than any officer I ever met during my service in the army. To the best of my recollection, he was the only officer of the Ninety-Third who received the clasp for Inkerman. At that battle he was serving on the staff of Lord Raglan as Deputy-a.s.sistant-Quartermaster-General, and as such was on duty on the morning of the battle, and I believe he was the first officer of the British army who perceived the Russian advance. He was visiting the outposts, as was his custom when on duty, in the early morning, and gave the alarm to Sir George Brown"s division, and then carried the news of the attack to Lord Raglan. For his services at Inkerman he was promoted brevet lieutenant-colonel, and on the termination of the war, besides the Crimean medal with four clasps (Alma, Balaklava, Inkerman, and Sebastopol), he received the Cross of the Legion of Honour and the Sardinian Medal, with the motto _Al valore Militare_, and also the Turkish Order of the Medjidie.
Early in the attack on the Secundrabagh three companies of the Ninety-Third were detached under Colonel Leith-Hay to clear the ground to the left and carry the barracks, and Colonel Ewart was left in command of the other seven companies. For some time we lay down sheltered by a low mud wall not more than one hundred and fifty to two hundred yards from the walls of the Secundrabagh, to allow time for the heavy guns to breach the garden wall. During this time Colonel Ewart had dismounted and stood exposed on the bank, picking off the enemy on the top of the building with one of the men"s rifles which he took, making the owner of the rifle lie down.
It was an anxious moment. The artillerymen were falling fast, but, after a few discharges, a hole,--it could not be called a breach--was made, and the order was given to the Fourth Punjab Rifles to storm. They sprang out of cover, as I have already described, but before they were half-way across the intervening distance, their commanding officer fell mortally wounded, and I think two others of their European officers were severely wounded. This caused a slight halt of the Punjabis. Sir Colin called to Colonel Ewart, "Ewart, bring on the tartan;" one of our buglers who was in attendance on Sir Colin, sounded the _advance_, and the whole of the Ninety-Third dashed from behind the bank. It has always been a disputed point who got through the hole first. I believe the first man in was Lance-Corporal Donnelly of the Ninety-Third, who was killed inside; then Subadar Gokul Sing, followed by Sergeant-Major Murray, of the Ninety-Third, also killed, and fourth, Captain Burroughs, severely wounded.
It was about this time I got through myself, pushed up by Colonel Ewart who immediately followed. My feet had scarcely touched the ground inside, when a sepoy fired point-blank at me from among the long gra.s.s a few yards distant. The bullet struck the thick bra.s.s clasp of my waist-belt, but with such force that it sent me spinning heels over head. The man who fired was cut down by Captain Cooper, of the Ninety-Third, who got through the hole abreast with myself. When struck I felt just as one feels when tripped up at a football match. Before I regained my feet, I heard Ewart say as he rushed past me, "Poor fellow, he is done for." I was but stunned, and regaining my feet and my breath too, which was completely knocked out of me, I rushed on to the inner court of the building, where I saw Ewart bareheaded, his feather bonnet having been shot off his head, engaged in fierce hand-to-hand fight with several of the enemy. I believe he shot down five or six of them with his revolver. By that time the whole of the Ninety-Third and the Sikhs had got in either through the wall or by the princ.i.p.al gate which had now been forced open; the Fifty-Third, led by Lieutenant-Colonel Gordon of the Ninety-Third, and Captain B. Walton (who was severely wounded), had got in by a window in the right angle of the garden wall which they forced open. The inner court was rapidly filled with dead, but two officers of the mutineers were fiercely defending a regimental colour inside a dark room. Ewart rushed on them to seize it, and although severely wounded in his sword-arm, he not only captured the colour, but killed both the officers who were defending it.
By this time opposition had almost ceased. A few only of the defenders of the Secundrabagh were left alive, and those few were being hunted out of dark corners, some of them from below heaps of slain. Colonel Ewart, seeing that the fighting was over, started with his colour to present it to Sir Colin Campbell; but whether it was that the old Chief considered that it was _infra dig_. for a field-officer to expose himself to needless danger, or whether it was that he was angry at some other thing, I know not, but this much I remember: Colonel Ewart ran up to him where he sat on his gray charger outside the gate of the Secundrabagh, and called out: "We are in possession of the bungalows, sir. I have killed the last two of the enemy with my own hand, and here is one of their colours," "D--n your colours, sir!" said Sir Colin.