Impossible Victories

by Bryan Perrett

  ‘I advanced direct on the Secundrabagh early on the 16th. This place is a high-walled enclosure of strong masonry of 120 yards square, and was carefully loopholed all round. It was held very strongly by the enemy. Opposite it was a village at a distance of a hundred yards, which was also loopholed and filled with men.

  ‘On the head of the column advancing up the lane to the left of the Secundrabagh, fire was opened on us. The infantry of the advance guard was quickly thrown into skirmishing order, to line a bank to the right. The guns were pushed rapidly onwards, viz., Captain Blunt’s troop, Bengal Horse Artillery, and Captain Travers,’ Royal Artillery, heavy field battery. The troop passed at a gallop through a cross-fire from the village and the Secundrabagh, and opened fire within easy musketry range in a most daring manner. As soon as they could be pushed up a stiff bank, two 18-pounder guns, under Captain Travers, were also brought to bear on the building. While this was being effected, the leading brigade of infantry, under Brigadier the Hon Adrian Hope, coming rapidly into action, caused the loopholed village to be abandoned; the whole fire of the brigade then being directed on the Secundrabagh,’

  The 93rd Highlanders were then deployed with five companies, commanded by Lieutenant-Colonel Leith Hay, opposite the southern wall of the palace and the rest, under Lieutenant-Colonel Ewart, opposite the eastern wall. For ninety minutes, while Travers’ two 18-pounders focused their fire on a small section of the wall close to the gate, they engaged in a fire-fight with those lining the walls, evidently to some effect as the gunners, serving their weapons at suicidally close range, sustained relatively few casualties. By the end of this period the guns had battered a small hole, between three and four feet square, through the tough masonry.

  Campbell’s intention was that part of the 93rd should fight their way through this tiny breach and then open the gates for the rest. When his drummer beat the Advance the whole line surged forward, the 93rd with a terrifying yell of long-suppressed rage that boded ill for those within the walls. The Highlanders had not reached India in time to witness first hand the worst of the mutineers’ atrocities, but they were fully conversant with all that had happened and now there was no thought in their minds other than to close with and kill the perpetrators, man to man and steel to steel. Pipe Major John McLeod and his pipers struck up The Haughs of Cromdell, otherwise known as The Old Highland Charge, the sound of which raised the men’s fury to berserk level. First through the breach was Captain Burroughs, slashing at those beyond with his broadsword. Close behind came Lance-Corporal John Dunley, then more and more kilted figures, including Lieutenant-Colonel Ewart and his fourteen-year-old drummer, James Grant. Leading the rush to open the gate, Burroughs went down under a sword-cut to the head. Fortunately, the resilience of his feathered bonnet saved him from the worst effects, although he was temporarily stunned and would certainly have been killed had not Dunley intervened to defend him until the fight surged past. The struggle for the gates was bitter in the extreme, but the sheer ferocity of the Highlanders’ attack ensured success. With the opening of the gates the rest of the regiment, the 53rd, the 4th Punjab Infantry and the brigade’s composite battalion poured through, hounding the rebels into the courtyard, along passages, up stairways and through room after room. Here and there shots would crack out, but there was neither time nor space to reload amid the screaming, hacking, frenzied struggle and the business was usually settled with the bayonet or sword. Ewart had personally killed eight of the enemy, including two native officers from whom he took a Colour, when he was wounded and set upon by five more. Seeing the Colonel now fighting for his own life, Private Peter Grant intervened and killed them all. In similar incidents Colour Sergeant James Monro saved the life of Captain Welch and Private David MacKay captured another set of the enemy’s Colours. When the slaughter was over, not a rebel was knowingly left alive within the Secundrabagh; over 2,000 were later carried out.

  The storming of the palace had cost the 93rd Highlanders 22 killed and 75 wounded. It might be thought that the regiment had done work enough for one day, but the afternoon was wearing on and Campbell was anxious to break the back of the enemy’s resistance by capturing the next objective, the Shah Najaf mosque, about 500 yards to the northwest, before dusk. The 93rd and the brigade’s composite battalion reformed outside the Secundrabagh and advanced on the Shah Najaf together with the heavy guns of Captain Peel’s Naval Brigade. Campbell’s despatch continues:

  The Shah Najaf is a domed mosque with a garden, of which the most had been made by the enemy. The wall of the enclosure of the mosque was loopholed with great care. The entrance to it had been covered by a regular work of masonry, and the top of the building was crowned with a parapet. From this, and from the defences in the garden, an unceasing fire of musketry was kept up from the commencement of the attack. This position was defended with great resolution against a heavy cannonade of three hours. It was then stormed in the boldest manner by the 93rd Highlanders, under Brigadier Hope, supported by the battalion of detachments under Major Barnston, who was, I regret to say, severely wounded; Captain Peel leading up his heavy guns with extraordinary gallantry within a few yards of the building, to batter the massive stone walls. The withering fire of the Highlanders effectually covered the Naval Brigade from great loss, but it was an action almost unexampled in war. Captain Peel behaved very much as if he had been laying the Shannon alongside an enemy’s frigate. This brought the day’s operations to a close.’

  By the time the despatch was written, Campbell had received official confirmation that he had been appointed Colonel of the 93rd. Unfortunately, his entirely justifiable pride led him to gild the lily somewhat with regard to his regiment’s part in the capture of the Shah Najaf, which was undoubtedly a tougher nut to crack than the Secundrabagh. The guns continued to batter the masonry wall without apparent result until sunset and during this period the 93rd sustained the loss of three killed and fifteen wounded in their exchange with the enemy lining the walls. As dusk began to fall the mutineers’ buglers could be heard sounding the Advance followed by the Double. This suggested that the garrison was about to make a sortie in strength and Hope took appropriate precautions. By last light, however, the enemy’s fire had died away completely. A patrol under Staff Sergeant John Paton, sent out to examine possible ways into the enclosure, discovered that the rebels had abandoned the position, escaping through a gate at the rear. Reasons for their doing so may have included the complete lack of survivors from the Secundrabagh, the concurrent break-out operations of the Residency garrison, which had succeeded in securing several important buildings behind them, and the fact that Peel’s guns were doing greater damage than was apparent from the outside.

  The Shah Najaf was promptly occupied and next morning the 93rd’s adjutant, Lieutenant McBean, accompanied by Sergeant Hutchinson and Drummer Ross, climbed a minaret to wave the regiment’s Colours for the benefit of the Residency garrison, now just 400 yards distant. They quickly became a target but Ross, disregarding not only McBean’s orders to come down but also the musket balls zipping past his ears, proceeded to blow Cock o’ the North. In response came the faint sound of the 78th’s own pipers and the dipping three times of the Residency flag.

  Just two major objectives, the Mess House and the Moti Mahal, now separated Campbell’s and Outram’s troops. The Mess House had been used by the 32nd prior to the Mutiny and its capture is described by Campbell:

  ‘Captain Peel kept up a steady cannonade on the building … (which) was defended by a ditch about twelve feet broad and scarped with masonry, and beyond that a loopholed mud wall. I determined to use the guns as much as possible in taking it. About three p.m., when it was considered that men might be sent to storm it without risk, it was taken by a company of the 90th Foot, under Captain Wolseley, and a picket of Her Majesty’s 53rd, under Captain Hopkins, supported by Major Barnston’s battalion of detachments under Captain Guise, and some of the Punjab Infantry under Lieutenant Powlett. The Mess House was carried imm
ediately with a rush. The troops then pressed forward with great vigour and lined the wall separating the Mess House from the Moti Mahal, which consists of a wide enclosure and many buildings. The enemy here made a last stand, which was overcome after an hour, openings having been broken in the wall, through which the troops poured, with a body of Sappers, and accomplished our communications with the Residency. I had the inexpressible satisfaction, shortly afterwards, of greeting Sir James Outram and Sir Henry Havelock, who came out to greet me before the action was at an end.’

  A point of interest regarding the storming of the Mess House was that two future field marshals and commanders-in-chief of the British Army, Captain Garnet Wolseley of the 90th and Lieutenant Frederick Roberts, Bengal Artillery now serving on Campbell’s staff, were participants. The former incurred Campbell’s wrath by exploiting the breakthrough into the Moti Mahal with his own and some Sikh troops, who were the first to reach the Residency garrison, an honour which the General intended should fall to the 93rd. Wolseley believed that the incident cost him a recommendation for the Victoria Cross, but his career was not damaged.10

  The most difficult part of Campbell’s task had now begun. He not only had to cover the evacuation of the garrison, its sick and wounded, the women and children and anything that might be of value to the enemy, but also to make provision for a very serious threat that was developing to his rear. Just for once, the rebels had managed to reach a strategic decision and had persuaded Tantia Topi, one of their most prominent commanders and a supporter of the Nana Sahib, to march on Cawnpore with an army of mutineers and other dissidents from the state of Gwalior. The probability was that the small force left by Campbell to defend the city would be overwhelmed and that the vital bridge across the Ganges would be lost. If that happened, it would leave Campbell’s entire column, including those evacuated from the Residency, trapped between two large rebel armies.

  The first priority, however, was to complete the evacuation, the course of this being described by Campbell in his despatch dated 25 November:

  ‘Having led the enemy to believe that immediate assault was contemplated, orders were issued for the retreat of the garrison through the lines of our pickets at midnight on the 22nd. The ladies and families, the wounded, the treasure (twenty-three lakhs of rupees and the King of Oudh’s jewels), the guns it was thought worthwhile to keep, the ordnance stores, the grain still possessed by the commissariat of the garrison, and the state prisoners, had all been previously removed. Sir James Outram had received orders to burst the guns which it was thought undesirable to take away; and he was finally directed silently to evacuate the Residency of Lucknow at the hour indicated. The dispositions to cover their retreat and to resist the enemy, should he pursue, were ably carried out by Brigadier the Hon Adrian Hope; but I am happy to say that the enemy was completely deceived and he did not attempt to follow. On the contrary, he began firing on our old positions many hours after we had left them. The movement of the retreat was admirably executed, and was a perfect lesson in such combinations. Each exterior line came gradually retiring through its supports, until at length nothing remained but the last line of infantry and guns, with which I was myself to crush the enemy if he had dared to follow up the pickets. The only line of retreat (was) through a long and tortuous lane, and all these precautions were absolutely necessary for the protection of the force.’

  It was decided that Outram would maintain a British presence at Lucknow by holding the Alambagh, which was a great deal easier both to defend and relieve than the Residency. Havelock, worn down by fatigue, strain and the effects of dysentery, died there on 25 November; he was to be remembered by his generation as the embodiment of the Christian soldier.

  On 27 November, having left 4,000 men and 35 guns with Outram, Campbell began the 40-mile march from the Alambagh to Cawnpore, from which no news had been received for several days. Anxieties began to rise along the slow-moving convoy as the rumble of distant gunfire became audible. At about noon a native runner from Major-General Windham, commanding at Cawnpore, reached the head of the column with a letter for Campbell, written two days previously. Windham, it seemed, had already been in action against Tantia Topi’s army, which was present in great strength and possessed ample artillery. It was probable that his troops would have to retire into the entrenchment covering the bridge and urgent assistance was therefore requested. Campbell was not altogether confident in Windham, who lacked experience, and, aware that he had only about 1,000 men at his disposal, could leave nothing to chance. Leaving his infantry to protect the convoy he rode ahead with the cavalry and horse artillery to discover the present state of affairs for himself. By the time he arrived it was clear that the rebels were in possession of the city and had overrun the British camp. On the other hand, Windham’s troops were still resisting in their entrenchment and the bridge was, for the moment, intact.11 It took until the following day for his own bullock-drawn heavy guns and the infantry to come up, enabling him to take effective counter-measures.

  ‘All the heavy guns attached to General Grant’s division, under Captain Peel RN and Captain Travers RA, were placed in position on the left bank of the Ganges and directed to open fire and keep down the fire of the enemy on (i.e., against) the bridge. This was done very effectively, while Brigadier Hope’s brigade, with some field artillery and cavalry, was ordered to cross the bridge and take position near the old dragoon lines. A cross-fire was at the same time kept up from the entrenchment to cover the march of the troops. When darkness began to draw on the artillery parks, the wounded and the families were ordered to file over the bridge and it was not till 6 p.m. the day of the 30th that the last cart cleared the bridge.’

  During the next week Tantia Topi, whose army numbered 14,000 with 40 guns, mounted several attacks, all of which were repulsed. Having reorganised his transport and sent on the civilians and the wounded to the safety of Allahabad on 3 December, Campbell was left with both hands free to plan his counter-stroke. This was delivered three days later against both wings of the rebel army, which quickly dissolved in rout. Once again, Captain Peel and his seamen distinguished themselves, manhandling their heavy 24-pounders forward with the skirmish line and simply blasting away anyone in their path. The pursuit was pressed for fourteen miles and resulted in the capture of sixteen guns and an immense quantity of ammunition, stores, vehicles and bullocks.

  The defeat of Tantia Topi and the Gwalior rebels marked the turning point in the history of the Mutiny. For the first time the country people, sensing who the ultimate victors would be, came in to trade. Campbell, his mission completed, wished to turn his attention to putting down the rebellion elsewhere, but Canning insisted that since Oudh had become the principal rallying point for the mutineers its early conquest would produce valuable political dividends throughout the sub-continent and beyond.

  Thus it was that many of those who had been besieged in Lucknow or taken part in its reliefs, all of whom had performed prodigies, found themselves marching once more on the city, where Outram’s force at the Alambagh was still maintaining itself. On this occasion however, Campbell had a 20,000-strong army at his disposal, including 9,000 Gurkha volunteers under Jung Bahadur.

  The capture of Lucknow, completed on 21 March 1858, does not form a part of this story. It cost Campbell 1,200 casualties but thousands of rebels died and the rest fled. They dispersed throughout the state to be dealt with piecemeal. Simultaneously, vigorous action by General Sir Hugh Rose, whose troops included elements of the Bombay and Madras armies as well as contingents from some of the princely states, stamped out the rebellion in Central India. In November the last formed bodies of mutineers in both theatres were defeated; they had brought nothing but destruction and death wherever they went and by now both the people and most of the local rulers had turned against them. All that remained were a few armed gangs that were remorselessly hunted down. By the end of the year it had become possible to begin returning responsibility for the troubled areas to the civil p
olice.

  There were several important consequences of the Mutiny. In 1858 the East India Company was deprived of its powers of government, these being directly assumed by the Crown. Secondly, the Indian Army was thoroughly reorganised and restructured to ensure that the circumstances giving rise to the Mutiny could not arise again. Most remarkable of all was the fact that, while the terrible events of the Mutiny could never be forgotten, both sides recognised that they had been guilty of untypical acts of savagery that were best put behind them. For the remaining 90 years of the Raj they would live, work and fight together, and when their paths diverged at Independence they parted as friends. During the Second World War a few Indian politicians attempted to evoke echoes of the Mutiny but the response was trivial when compared with the two million Indians who volunteered for active service in the armed forces of the Crown, and the millions more who undertook some form of war work.

  Notes

  1. His brother, Sir John Lawrence, was chief commissioner of the recently annexed Punjab where, by his ruthless energy he not only disarmed every suspect regiment before the idea of mutiny could take root, but also recruited over 30,000 Sikhs to the British service, enabling him to despatch his deputy, Brigadier-General John Nicholson, to Delhi with substantial reinforcements for the besieging force. See At All Costs! Chapter 3.

  2. The contemporary designation used by both the Royal Artillery and the Bengal Artillery for batteries was to refer to them as companies within a battalion, then the arm of service, viz.: 4th Company, 1st Battalion, Bengal Artillery. However, as this contrasts awkwardly with modern usage I have adopted the more simplified format of 4/1 Battery Bengal Artillery, 3/8 Battery RA, etc.