Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

SOME EPISODES OF THE INDIAN MUTINY.

THE following incidents connected with the capture and looting of Lucknow daring the Indian Mutiny appear in the Youth's Companion from the pen of Sir W. H. Russell, the famous war correspondent of the London Tunes :— THE ‘LOOTING’ OF LUCKNOW. In 1865 the British authorities in India annexed the kingdom of Oude to their sovereignty, deposed the king, and sent him as a state prisoner from bts capital of Licknow to Calcutta. That annexation, no doubt, gave rise to a sense of insecurity among the native princes of India, and probably determined some of them to take up arms against the British Government when the Bengal Sepoys mutinied in 1857. Lucknow had none of the great historical associations of Delhi, which had long been tbe capital of the great Mogul Empire. Nevertheless, as the capital of Oude it was regarded with affection by the chiefs and people. Though the reigning bouse of Oude was Mohammedan, most of tbe population were Hindus. Naturally the possession of or adherence of Lucknow to their cause was much desired by tbe Bengal mutineers.

Soon after the rising of the Sepoys at Meerut and the massacre of British officers gave tbe first impetus to the re bellion, the Begum of Oude, mother of the young prince who claimed the throne, a woman of great energy and courage, placed herself at the head of the levies of the native chiefs or Talookdars in the hope of recovering the kingdom for her son. Sir Henry Lawrence, then British Commissioner at Lucknow, made every possible preparation to meet the storm which burst so suddenly upon us. The cluster of houses and offices around the spacious building, which was called the residency, was surrounded by a ditch and an earthen wall. Guns were mounted to command the approaches. Powder, arms and provisions were stored in the cellars. When the Sepoy regiments mutinied, Sir Henry Lawrence had by his foresight forestalled the risk of any general massacre, such as occurred at Delhi aud elsewhere, of the Europeans in the city of Lucknow. DEFENDING THE RESIDENCY. But in a bold attempt to avert a siege by an attack on the rebels concentrated in masses outside the city, his feeble force was repulsed and was forced to take refnge within the residency, which was crowded with the civilians of the station, their wives, children and servants. For its defence there were only the Thirty-second Regiment of British Regulars, seven hundred strong, one weak company of British artillery, and a few hundred Sikhs and loyal Sepoys who had refused to march off with their mutinous comrades. The troops of the little garrison bad but feeble resources for fighting the great levy arrayed for the attack of the place, and could give little guarantee for the safety of the Europeans whom they had to defend. The besiegers consisted of nine regiments of native infantry, two regiments of cavalry, two batteries of regular artillery, about twenty five hundred military police, and all the armed population of Lucknow —not less than fifty thousand men, speedily augmented by masses of the country people, a warlike, turbulent race !

The place was at once closely invested, and searched by incessant fire. Day and night effieera, soldiers and civilians—men, women and children-were slain by the fusillade and cannonade. Sir Henry Lawrence was mortally wounded early in the siege.

Two expeditions were organized by the Government at Calcutta to relieve the residency. The first, a small column under Havelock, crossed the Ganges in the blaze of the July monsoon and fought its way half way through Oade. But it was not till late in August that a column under Havelock and Oatram leached the resi dency, which had then been invested for eighty seven days. The force of twentyfive hundred men and seventeen gnns was not strong enough to cover the retreat of the besieged women, children and noncombatants, but it was a great re-enforce-ment to the suffering garrison. It came not a moment too soon ! Of nine hundred and twenty-seven Europeans in the residency one hundred and forty had been killed or died of their wounds ; one hundred and ninety were wounded. Sixteen civilians had been killed and fourteen wounded. Of the native garrison seventytwo had been killed and one hundred and thirty-one wounded.

Havelock and Oatram were now besieged in turn, but meantime help was coming, and tbe defence was sustained by the knowledge that it would be effective. Sir Colin Campbell, a veteran of service in India, China, and the Crimea, was as sembling at Cawnpore all tbe troops that

could be spared by tbe Government. Crossing the Ganges in the second week be stormed, on the seventeenth of that month, the fortified enclosure of tbe Secuderabagh outside the city in front of tbe residency, and after hard fighting all day opened communications with the garrison under Havelock.

Arrangements for the safe escort of the women and children, the wounded, the treasure and tbe stores, were so skilfully designed that tbe enemy entertained no suspicion of the design, and made no attempt to molest them in their retreat to Cawnpore, which they reached under tbe cover of Sir Colin Campbell's army, just in tbe nick of time to save tbe bridge across the Ganges and the station from the army of G «alior.

But our work in Oude was not yet accomplished. Lucknow was one of tbe centres of the vast rebellion, and it was necessary to occupy the capital for the due subjugation of Oude and tbe re conquest of the provinces north of the Ganges.

On the first of March, 1853, Sir Colin Campbell once more crossed the river from Cawnpore at the bead of a complete and well ■ organised column, infantry, cavalry and artillery. He established himself without opposition outside Lucknow.

I accompanied his head-quarters from Cawnpore, and I never can forget the wonder, and I may add, tbe admiration which the first sight of Lucknow as I beheld it from the turret of the Dtlkoosha or ‘ Heart’s Delight,’ caused me. The city was indeed a vision of gilded palaces, fsi ides, colonnades and terraces of long perspective, minarets, brightly-hued domes, cupolas rising up in the midst of a calm ocean of verdure. CITY or GILDED PALACES. For miles and miles away spires of gold glittered in the sun, turrets covered with polished metal shone aloft like constellations. Nothing mean or squalid visible ! A city larger than Paris, and as it seemed, more brilliant, lay before us! Was this the capital of a semi- barbarous race—the work of a corrupt, degraded, effete dynasty ? In tbe midst of this marvellous display of Oriented magnificence palaces appeared which, from a distance, looked liked the Tuileries and the Louvre. I saw the bouse of tbe Begum or queen, the Begum Kotbi; the long front of the Kaiserbagb, and many another seemingly stately residence which I did not then know to be squalid stucco. These were all fortified, filled with matchlock men, disciplined Sepoys; de fended by earthworks and walls and garnished with artillery. It was estimated that there was a force of fully eighty thousand or ninety thousand men behind the earthworks.

By a series of admirably planned and boldly executed movements, Sir Colin Campbell succeeded in occupying both sides of the River Goomtee, which runs through tbe city, and in seizing palace after palace from the enemy On the 14th of March, after a successful assault upon the outworks of the Begum Kotbi, an officer rushed into the headquarters with the news, * The Kaiserbagb is ours !’ The royal palace—a walled enclosure of many acres, a vast series of courts surrounded by buildings inhabited by the members of the royal family of Oude, by the ministers and their dependents—had fallen. 1 mounted my horse at once and worked my way through enclosures, gardens, and walls, where breaches had been made by our sappers for tbe assaulting columns, and presently reached the battered mosque by the Begum Kothi, which had just been occupied by the Ninety-third Highlanders and Sikhs. Doolies, or litters, with wounded men were being borne to the rear.

The marble pavement of the great hall of tbe Imam Barra was covered two or three inches deep with fragments of broken mirrors, and the glass of chandeliers which once bung from the ceilings. The soldiers were still busy within, 'smashing' everything smashable. The courts were filled with wreck. Sepoys’ uniforms and accoutrements, firelocks, matchlocks, tulwars or curved sabres, shields, powder-flasks. The Twentieth, the Thirty-eighth, the Fortysecond, the Ninetieth and the Ninetyseventh Regiments blocked up the narrow way. Having scraped past them I looked out upon another court with a garden of orange-trees and parterres in front, surrounded by statues, gilt lamp-posts and fountains. In this court, as one of my friends said, * Hell had broke loose.’

Dead and dying Sepoys lay under the orange-trees ; the white statues were bloodstained. All around us a raging mass of men were breaking in the doors, firing thei trifles to burst tbe locks, that they might * loot ’ inside, in spite of the musketry from the lattices of the windows, which greeted them when they entered the court. BENT ON PLUNDER

Down tbe steps from tbe stucco palaces streamed men laden with brocades, shawls, ornaments, arms, caskets of jewellery, literally * drunk with plunder.' Some gouged out tbe precious stones from stems

of pipes, saddle cloths, the bills of swords, the butts of pistols. Others swathed their bodies in stuff crusted with gems. Others carried off vases of jade or china, or dashed them to the ground. I entered a cut de sac, one side consisting of open sheds, in which were broughams, carriages, paikees— covered litters borne by men—with richly gilt harness and velvet hangings. The other side was lined by storehouses with rooms above them, each strongly barricaded, with the exception of one, of a hick tbe door bad been forced. I entered Tbe room was crammed with enormous vases of porcelain, of China aud Japan, bowls and goblets, and cups of tbe finest jade. There were long wooden cases tilled with jade spocns, mouthpieces, drink-ing-vessels and saucers, mostly broken in sheer wantonness, lining tbe walls. a soldier's offer of jewels. As I was about to return to tbe court tbe shadow of a man fell across it ; then appeared a bayonet, raised evidently to the level of the eye, then came the rille, and finally the head of a soldier. * Come along. Bill,’ shouted he, * here's a lot of places no one has been to !'

Then entered three or four bandits of one of Her Majesty’s regiments—faces black with powder, tunics stuffed with ‘loot’ or ‘ prize. ’ The lock of the first door which resisted was smashed by the discharge of a rifle. In rushed the men with a shout. Presently they came out with tbe pistols and tulwars crusted with gold and precious stones of a royal armory. One soldier drew from a silver box which he forced open an armlet of emeralds, diamonds and pearls, which I thought at first must be glass, belonging to tbe chain of a large chandelier. ‘ What will your honor give me for this ’’ said he. ‘ I’ll take a hundred rupees on chance.'

I had not a penny in my pocket—in India no Englishman has—bis body servant carries his money. I told the fellow they were worth a great deal more than a hundred rupees if they were real stones. * I won’t grudge them to your honor. You’re welcome to them for a hundred rupees ! There I’

It was liberal certainly if he owned them or if there was one real stone in the lot, but I had not a penny nor had any of my friends, for by this time I had been joined by three of Sir Colin's staff. We stood out of fire under a gateway, where the parley was going on, for there was still fighting in the palace courts. * Well,’ said I, *1 will give you a hundred dollars for the chain—but you must wait till I get to beadquarters.’ * And how Jo I know where I’ll be this blessed night ? These are only times for ready money transactions, your honor. I’ll take two gold mohurs and a bottle of rum for it 1 There I’ I had neither mohurs— a coin worth thirty-two shillings—nor a bottle of rum, and so, as I learned later, 1 missed a great chance indeed The armlet consisted of large rose diamonds and rubies 1 The soldier sold it for a small sum to an officer of bis regiment, and the < tticer sold it to a bunneah or native merchant for two thousand pounds. The bunneah sold it surely at a profit to another merchant, who received seven thousand five hundred pounds from the queen’s jewellers at Calcutta for the armlet.

Eventually the stones were mounted separately and were bought by the government for more than ten thousand pounds to be presented to the faithful chiefs by. Lord Canning, the governor-general, when he went up country after the mutiny, as * Khilluts ’ or presents of honour. The soldier, however, ere he wound the chain round bis arm, insisted on making presents of trinkets out of a small casket. A nose-ring of rubies and pearls with a single-stone diamond drop fell to my share. One of my friends was presented with a large enamelled brooch in tbe shape of a huge butterfly with diamond and opal wings. The musketry was dying away. We moved on throngh similar scenes in other courts. ruthless looters. The looters burned brocades and em broidered shawls in a fire in tbe great court for the sake of the gold and silver They broke up fowling pieces and pistols for tbe gold mounting and jewels in tbe stocks. They dashed china, glass and jsde to pieces in pure wantonuess; they ripped up pictures or tossed them on the flames. The courts of the palace were lumbered with broken

cases filled with stuffs, brocades and kinhob — clotn of gold—musical instruments, standards, shields, banners. drums, books, saddlery. Many of tbe marauders around us were laden with trash. Ooe of them, waving the chain of a lustre of yellow, gieen, and blue glass prisms, entreated us u boy bis * stringsof emeralds,’ and would not believe they were worthless. It must be lemembered that the soldiers, by a usual practice of war, had been eu onraged to the a-sault by tbe liberty of ‘ loot,’ but there could be no natural excuse for the wanton destruction they committed while furious with fighting and plunder. I made the best of my way back to our camp through tbe streets outside the palace, which presented a scene the like of which I never beheld. There were thousands of camp followers staggering under loads of plunder, covered with clothing not their own. They were carrying looking glasses, pictures, arms, rich shawls, ecarte, embroidered stuff's, silks, the spoils of ransacked palaces. Lucknow was being cairied away piecemeal. Goorxbas and Sikhs with glaring eyes and set teeth sought to stem the current of men weighted with spoil. Grasscuttere. mahouts, all tbe riffraff of an Indian army camp.following were waiting on the fringe of the crowd of soldiery till they could venture in to share the plunder, and join in tbe saturnalia of the sack of tbe palaces. I got back to my tent utterly exhausted. In the valet's tent outside, my Madras-ee was busy with his scales weighing gold and silver for the fellows who came to ascertain the value of w hat they had plundered. The • chink, chink ’ lasted all night, tbe next day and the day after. My man had a percentage for weighing, and he must have driven a thriving trade. ENORMOUS VALUE OF THE PLUNDER OBTAINED. That was tbe first day of tbe ' loot' of the Kaiserbagb '. It was not till the second day that ‘ prize ' was declared, and prize-agents were appointed. Plunder was then stopped. Guards were then s-et over tbe approaches and exits of the city, and all valuables became the property of the army, to be divided in fixed proportions among the soldiery according to their rank. It never was ascertained what the value of the ‘loot ’ of Lucknow was, but from some native bankers, pretty good judges, there came staetments that more than a million and a quarter pounds' worth of valuables had passed into the hands of the looters. One ornament made for the young king, Brijes Kudder, which disappearec, cost lakus of rupees, or fif.y thousand p muds. It was sold in London, it is said, that very year, and no one knew how it got there. There were stories that estates in England, encumbered with heavy mortgages, were set free in a wonderful manner soon after the great take of gold and jewels, which was tbe accumulated plunder of tbe family of the kings of Oude—whose sub jects, however, bore the process most patiently. In May, 1858, the prize-agents had in their possession property estimated to be worth six hundred thousand pounds for sale. A week later and they had one million two hundred and fifty thousand pounds’ worth. As tor myself, I only know that for the want of about sixteen dollars, two gold mohurs and a bottle of rum I lost what was worth, at least, ten thousand pounds, to which, too, I should have been perfectly entitled by the rules of war, for I was at tacbed to an army which bad taken Luck now, and ‘ prize ’ had not been declared when the jewels were ottered to me. With a small bag of coin, with or without bottles of rum, I could have acquired in a day a great fortune, of which I have never before nor since bad the smallest chance of obtain ing an infinitesimal fraction.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP18960502.2.59

Bibliographic details

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVI, Issue XVIII, 2 May 1896, Page 509

Word Count
2,977

SOME EPISODES OF THE INDIAN MUTINY. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVI, Issue XVIII, 2 May 1896, Page 509

SOME EPISODES OF THE INDIAN MUTINY. New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVI, Issue XVIII, 2 May 1896, Page 509

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert