HUMOURS OF INDIAN MUTINY.

Otago Witness, Issue 3336, 20 February 1918, Page 54

HUMOURS OF INDIAN MUTINY.

By the Rev. John Lekdkoti. The Indian Mutiny is linked in our minds with so much that is dark and tragic that to associate with it anything like humour or fun may appear almost an outrage. The facts of life, however, are not nearly so proper as some people would make them. The tragic and the humorous, the grim and the ridiculous, get mixed together at times in the strangest of ways: and, in particular, wherever the British soldier goes he shows himself not only splendidly brave in action, hot irreprcssibly cheerful. lie is always cool enough to have time for his little joke. So it has been in the/present war against Germany, and so it was ako in the days of the Indian Mutiny. As we read the deathless story, we are at times like to weep ; yet at other times we break into a smile, and sometimes even burst into boisterous laughter. The British soldier, it would appear, is never overwhelmed by the seriousness, of war. but preserves always a sort of nonchalant detachment. For ono thing, he has always leisure for the making and giving of nicknames. In the present campaign he has suffered much from the huge German shells: yet, on account of the foul smoke and smell they give out as they c-xplodo, ho dubs them " Black Marias," or "Jack Johnsons," or '"'coalboxes." So, during Outram's heroic do-

fence of the Alum Bagh, near Lucknow, a heavy gun in the enemy'6 front battery was known among our men as "Nancy Dawson" ; and again, when Sir Hugh Pose invested Jhansi, one of the enemy's guns was nicknamed "Whistling Dick," the reason annexed being that while with other guns there was time to duck beneath the eandbags, with this gun the puff of smoke was scarcely seen when the shot came whistling overhead. Nor was it only the guns that got nicknames. Some way down the slope of the Ridge towards Delhi city stood an old Hindu temple, which, as the scene of much hard fighting, had to have some handy name; and, hearing the natives call it "swami-ghur" or "swaml-khana"— that is, "godhouse"—our men promptly named it "the Sammy House." Why should they bother with an outlandish native name when a good English one with a dash of humorous contempt in it was to hand? Again, in the turret of a high native house that almost overlooked the Residency compound at Lucknow there was a- party of snipers. One of these, an African eunuch, n>ed his double-barrelled rifle .with such skill that he was known among our men as "Bob the Nailer" ; he nailed every one he aimed at. And the same good humour amid the engines of death appeal's in the following. At the beginning of the siege of the Lucknow Residency the rebels were so short of ammunition that they hurled against our posts great stones or logs of wood bound with iron. As one of these logs came swinging through the air our men would cry out with a laugh, "Here comes a" barrel of beer at last!" As this last tale suggests, our people during the Mutiny were often hard put to it for food and drink. In the entrenchment at Cawnpore horseflesh became a delicacy, so that our riflemen were more anxious to bring down a horse than to shoot its rider. Yet Mowbray Thomson, one of the few survivors of the Cawnpore massacre, could write thus cheerily—afterwards at least: "Our hungry disgust had well-nigh sunk into despair when an old knacker came into range. . . . He was brought down by a shot like lightning, and 'hewn up. . .. . The head and some mysteries of the body we stewed into soup, and liberally sent to fair friends in the entrenchment, without designating its nature, or without being required to satisfy any scruples upon that head."

Then, too, as we have learned again in the present war, our British soldiers cannot get on without tobacco. At Lucknow, when the tobacco gave out, they took to smoking any sort of likely leaf they could find, iust as in Flanders the other day some of our men were smoking tea. When Greathed's column reached Agra after a forced march, the British in his force were so burnt by the sun as to be hardly distinguishable from natives. "The Queen's Eighth," writes one who was present, "passed within three yards of us. "These dreadful-looking fellows must be Afghans," said a lady to me, as they slowly and wearily marched by. I did not discover they were Englishmen till I saw a short clap pipe in the mouth of neai'ly the last man." Sir James O'utram, it is said, used to get very irate on occasion; but after letting out at any one, especially a young officer, he was never comfortable until he had made it up by some kind word or deed, often by the offer • of a cheeroot —a gift of'value in those days. His holster, it is said, was stuffed with cigars instead of a revolver, and he gave them away freely, beiiig also a hard smoker himself. Nor was tobacco the only thing that ran short. At Cawnpore the ladies gave up their stockings to be filled with shot—"a species of cartridge never heard of before" ; and on one occasion at least a bit of notepaper was hard to find. One of a few Europeans who, fleeing from the rebels, had found refuge in a cowshed, got a promise from one of the herdsmen to carry a letter to his wife at Naini Tal. lie had only a small scrap of paper—"hall the flyleaf of Brydges on the One hundred and Nineteenth Psalm," and the stump of a lead-pencil. When the note was written he dipped it in milk, and setit out to dry in the sun. In an instant a. crow pounced upon it and carried it off. "I, of course, thought it was gone for ever, and felt heart-broken with vexation, as I had no more paper, or any means or hope of getting any, on which to Avrite [mother note." However, two natives followed the crow, and after an hour's chase paw the bird drop the paper, and brought it back uninjured. And, one is glad to learn, the letter duly reached its destination. Soon after the outbreak of the Mutiny, when the first regiment of kilted Highlanders arrived in Calcutta, the natives are said to have declared that the British were so short of men that they had been forced to send their women. From the closing days of the Mutiny there comes another gibe at the kilt. One clay, near Cay.-npore, the troops under Sir Colin Campbell had to ford a river, and the men stopped to take off their shoes and stockings and trousers. "What are you stopping for there?'' a soldier cried out from behind. "Don't you see I am taking off my breaches to cross the river?" cams the reply. "Bed-id!'' exclaimed the other, "I knew tin general woidd never stop till, he had mads Highlanders of us all." At another point 50 men of the Seventy - first Highland Light Infantry were taken 70 miles in 30 hours on camels. The Highlanders did not like the action- of their steeds, an'd their kilts proved so awkward for riding, and left them so sore. that, after a halt, they refused to remount, and had to be told sharply that if they did not mourt the carrels they would be left behind an-! los-i their heads to thi rebels. The British soldier is not only a firstrate fighting man, but so greedy for fighting that he can never have enough. Before Delhi there were more than 30 fights within 12 weeks; yet one of our men could write: "It appears quite strange to have had no fightina for five full days,

and our fellows will begin to think they are badly used." The Goorkhas, loo—who, by the way, were with us and not against us in the Mutiny—were as keen as the Europeans. When word came in that the enemy was at hand, they were "so delighted at the chance of getting a fight that they threw somersaults and cut capers." When it got out that there was to be a battle the next day our men in hospital declared they would not be kept in from it, and begged their comrades not to tell they were sick. Even when severely wounded, thev would not give in. At Delhi especially their spirit was magnificent; and, stricken to death, a soldier would tell his officer he would soon be up again and ready for a brush with the enemy. At the taking of a/fort near Calpee "a soldier who went under the assumed name of Whirlpool received no fewer than 19 wounds. "Take care, lads," he said as they put him into the dhooly, "and don't shake my head, or else it will come off." For a previous exploit he was awarded the Victoria Cross; and he must have been of the right stuff, for he not only received 19 wounds, but recovered from them. There were others who could joke even over their punishments. General Hope Grant was very strict in the matter of looting, and having one day caught some men in the very act of robbing a house, he had them tied up forthwith and flogged. Thereafter, whenever the men saw him coming, they would say one to another, "Now, boys, take care of your backs; here is the provost-marshal coming."

_ One of His heroes of the Lucknow garrison was Private Cuney, of the band. Accompanied by a sepoy who adored him, he crept into a battery of the enemy and spiked the guns. On his return he was confined in the guardroom for leaving his post without orders; but whenever there was fighting to be done he had to be let out, and when wounded he would leave bed to join in a sortie. Another Lucknow hero was Captain Fulton, of the Engineers, who greatly distinguished himself in counteracting the mining operations of the rebels. One day, having detected a mine the enemy had driven a.certain distance, he ran a short counter-mine to meet it, and then sat patiently, 'revolver in. hand, waiting for the unconscious enemy to break through. Someone looking for him asked a sergeant if he were in the mine. "Yes, sir," was the reply; "there he has been for the last two hours like a terrier at a rat-hole, and not likely to leave it all the day." Another day he found the enemy 'mining quite near his post; so, putting his head over the wall, he called out in Hindustani a trifle of abuse and "Bhago! bhago!" ("Fly! fly!"); and at once there was such a scuffle and scurrying that he could not help laughing. A like ruse, was used with similar success at Cawnpore. One night the enemy threatening a general assault that would have overwhelmed our little band, Captain Moore and Lieutenant Delafosse went out into the open, and in a loud rvoice Moore gave the word of command, 'No. 1 to the fmnti" Completely taken in, and thinking we were to attack in force, the enemy at once rose and retreated to safer cover. • A very picturesque figure in the story of the Mutiny is Co'onel Neill, of the Madras Fusiliers, who, from their fierceness, were known as Neill's Lambs. When his men were being entrained at Howrah, the stationmaster threatened to start the train whether they were all aboard or not; whereupon Neill put him in the charge of a sergeant's guard; and when other officials proved insolent, he laid hold of the engine-driver and the stoker, and placed a guard over them until all his men were safely in the train. Another hero, who also, like Neill, fell in the Mutiny, was Captain William Peel, R.N., whose men and guns from H.M.S. Shannon proved of the greatest service. He was everywhere spoken of for his coolness in action. He went into action, someone said, as unconcerned as if he had been going to an evening party, and while working his guns he was always whistling oi- telling an anecdote. Among the volunteers in the Lucknow garrison, clerks chiefly, was a stout, middle-aged Eurasian, who one day asked his officer, "What are wo to do, sir, if we are charged by elephants?" Without a smile, the officer replied, "Whether able to keep oil* such huge animals or not, Government expects each individual, to make the attempt." Another Eurasian was in great anxiety how to present arms when his post was visited by an officer. ''Never mind, sir," said another civilian volunteer. Signer Barsotelli; "make a leetle noise; who is to see in the dark?" This Italian—there was a Frenchman also in the garrison—helped much not only by his bravery, but by his gaiety. Called out suddenly one night from a sound sleep, he exclaimed, "I think these grand officers do this for their own amusement." Yet the next moment, we are told, there he stood, a musket in one and, a doublebarrelled rifle in the other; at his side a huge cavalry sword, and pendent over his breast a huge ammunition-pouch—a comic figure perhaps, yet fearless and determined. Of Sir 'Colin Campbell, afterwards Lord Clyde, there are many memorable tales. "When ho grows very indignant," writes Lady Canning, who met him in Calcutta", ,- he pulls ofi* his little, cap and scratches his head violently, leaving his hair standing belt, upright." During some sharp fighting on the Kala NucUlee", the Irishmen of the Fifty-third, hearing they were to be relieved by the Highlanders of the Ninety-third, charger! without orders. A little drummer-boy who had perched himself on a- mound and sounded the advance, asked why he had dared to act without orders, replied, "Please, sir, I was afraid the men would lick me if I didn't." Furi--OU6 at the daring breach of discipline, Sir Colin rode up to the Fifty-third and pitched into it handsomely. Put the wild Irishmen, whenever be began to speak. shouted as loud as they could, "Three

cheers for the Commander-in-chief, boys!" «intil at last he was forced to go away laughing. Another good story with a bit of boisterous fun in it comes to us from the annals of the defence at Lucknow Residency. After the unhappy check at Chinhut, Sir Henry Lawrence decided to hold only the Residency, and gave orders that the Muehee Bhawa, an old fort _ in the city, which was to have been maintained as a separate position, should be evacuated and blown up. At midnight the troops marched out, and half-an-hour later the air was rent by a tremendous explosion. One m?ji, however, was missing. When the roll was called he was lying drunk in some out-of-the-way corner, and could not bo found. When'the magazine exploded he was blown into the air, but, returning to earth unhurt, went off to sleep again. In the' morning, to his horror, he found himself alone amid a mass of ruins. But finding a pair of bullocks -and an ammunition-cart, he appeared with these at the gate of the Residency. "Arrah, by ! open yer gates," he cried out. And the guards, we read, let him in, convulsed with laughter. Such are some of the humours of the Indian Mutiny; and perhaps the recounting of them may help to keep us cheerful during the present distresses. It need only be added that nearly all the stories told above are to be found in Forrest's History, and have thus the great merit of being true.