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Chapter 9

Champions of the people – A promise to go down to the sea more than fulfilled – The warriors of Oudh see the defences and blow alarming sounds – A Council wants two hundred thousand pounds, and cannot get it – A crockery room and British bayonets – Colonel Furnell – Havelock’s troops, trumps, and smokers – Captain Crommelin – Sir Robert Napier – A great adventure in the mines, two men shot – Familiar talk with the enemy – Greased cartridges provoked a mutiny – Lieutenant Grant – Somebody to be hung – Good news

I ought to have mentioned before that the fifteen or twenty thousand rebels and mutineers who were scared away by the arrival of reinforcements, returned to the city, accompanied by many more attracted by the prowess of the hundred thousand armed beings who plundered the weak and simple, and strutted through the city with all the confidence and none of the virtues of champions of the people. These simple folks were clean gone at the delicious prospect before them of cutting us up to a man; of establishing a most perfect government of disorder, to let every one earn a livelihood in any way he liked, limited only by the strength of the passions which God had given him; and at the promise of their chiefs to lead them down to the sea: which has been more than fulfilled in the case of some, who have actually crossed over to the penal settlement on the Andamans!

The city swarmed with the warriors of Oudh, and of

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course we had to look sharp after ourselves, for they often came so near as to see our defences, when shot and shell flew about in a style which it was pleasant to look on, for they scarcely hit anyone. The reckless men would sometimes work themselves up to such a frenzy as to impiously shoot at the sky, when no amount of inaction could force them to leave the shelter of their defences, albeit that the Residency was encircled by brazen instruments of war blowing out the most alarming sounds, which meant they were to assemble and advance. But it happened sometimes that a “ Council” would sit twelve hundred yards from us, and decide that the reduced finances of the state made it indispensable that the two hundred thousand pounds unlawfully retained by the obstinate Europeans should be theirs. The rabble would then approach imprudently close, with their officers grouped round the standards in the rear, to retire with the dead and dying the moment they saw that we were resolved not to let them have it.

On one occasion, indeed, their zeal took them far into a room of the palace, strewed a foot deep with broken crockery, when there was the most dreadful clatter of plates and clamour of angry and despairing voices, as our troops, recovering from their surprise, met them with fixed bayonets; which, to judge from the execution done that day by the 90th Foot, are the most awful things in the world in British hands. I humbly assisted on the occasion to disturb the calm deliberations of the enemy, by following along the roofs of the houses and dropping hand grenades among them, so that the warriors were greatly puzzled where to go, despite of a violent inclination to go somewhere. Colonel Purnell, who commanded in the palace, by his judicious arrangements

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and constant watchfulness, put it quite out of the power of the enemy to get so far again, supposing there was any disposition to go into a place from whence no one had ever returned. We were greatly pleased with this officer’s cool courage, and the calm gentlemanly manner in which he gave directions and then saw them executed. I was often with H.M. 90th Foot, and I have reason to remember them all with pride and pleasure.

The troops that came in with General Havelock brought no more than the clothes on their backs, and no liquor was issued to them; but they shifted for themselves, quite as well as any Frenchman would have done, and cared nothing for danger, or exposure, or anything else, so long as they had a pipe of dry tea, or bitter leaves, or tobacco, to envelope their heads in smoke. These fine fellows were a terror to the enemy, and from the fact of their being tattooed, were considered to be soldiers especially selected from the flower of our army.

Our chief engineer, Captain Crommelin, was confined to his room with a very sore foot, and, as he is one of those active men who are everywhere at the same time, and have a provoking habit of harrying sluggards, some of us were not sorry for it. But there was another of those tiresome officers who never would lie down, and kept his and our legs perpetually on the move, giving quite as much employment to our eyes; for, if once lost, we had again to go over every step of the ground to find him. He poked his nose into queer places, and, whilst we stood shivering near him, would stare straight in the faces of the enemy, as if powder and shot were non-existent. Colonel Robert Napier was, in fact,

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a most dangerous man to be with; for if you escaped being shot by the enemy, you only lived to be walked to death. This is an officer who hates figures, but has the strongest liking for facts. He is without the least fear, and, when his mind is made up, he follows it quickly. He is one of the most intelligent officers in the service, and his good sense is proverbial. His private virtues are those of every good man, and I have the best reason to say so. Had our gracious Queen knighted myself, I could not have been better pleased than when I saw this good, kind friend, dubbed for his meritorious services during the war. It is the prayer of many that he may survive to win more laurels in China, where he has gone to bring that vain and provoking nation to its senses.

Examining the new and visiting the finished mines was very dirty work, and my wardrobe was too poor for many changes. I brought away some coarse canvas from the deserted stores of the palace; and, with the assistance of a charming little lady, (who showed me how to cut them), I peeled the skin off my fingers sewing a tunic and overalls: the women laughing at my awkward first essay at tailoring. Sir Robert Napier once said that I would quickly learn anything, and sure enough, in a couple of days I met the admiring gaze of my comrades in a very business-like suit, and henceforth crept through the galleries dry and warm, and altogether very much at home.

The dress was new on my back, and the conceit of it not yet gone out of my silly head, when the enemy must needs make another and last attempt to blow us up in the vicinity of the Sikhs, who complimented me by naming me the Burra Surungwalla, or Great Miner,

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and now anxiously waited for the result, as I entered the mine and sat, like a cat patiently waiting for her prey. Slowly and cautiously the enemy’s miner lessened the partition of earth between us, and, in two hours, a too heavy stroke of his placed us face to face. His eyes glared with fear as he spread out his arms screaming, and fell back mortally wounded into the shaft, where he lay moaning pitifully. The gallery was unusually large, but not more than six or eight feet from the pit, we being separated from the enemy, at the Sikh quarters, only by a few yards. I widened the opening, and crawled in to get to the mining tools, but they were too far, and I lay still, wondering what would come of the great noise at the top of the mine. They loudly called to each other to go down and fetch the dying miner and his implements, amidst the jingle of ramrods, an unusual uproar, and fierce resolves not to be outdone this time. I began to think I had ventured too near, and was speculating upon the probability of the pistol missing fire, when down came a Sepoy to solve the question by receiving a bullet in his stomach, before he could discharge his musket. I had forgotten to load my revolver, and was now left with only one shot more, which I reserved.

The commotion above grew louder and louder, and the fellows blustered and swore as if the whole body of them were coming down to me. I was close enough to see their feet by placing my face to the floor of the mine, and I now taunted them with cowardice in the profane language that is so often, and so well spoken by Englishmen to their followers, and so raised their ire that one swaggered and swore, in a superior style, that he’d go and kill me. I laughed and tried to provoke

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them to come in, till they thought of firing into the mine, and drove me back to my own gallery, nearly suffocated with smoke and blinded from earth the bullets threw up; which gave them an opportunity of hooking up the two wounded men who were groaning their lives out.

I returned to the same spot after a few minutes, protected by a couple of Sikhs, (who watched from our gallery), and then we commenced a very pleasant and harmless abuse of each other. I was upbraided for associating with cursed Feringies, who ate cow’s meat, and did other abominations; which convulsed the Sikhs with laughter, for they perceived that I was mistaken for one of them, to whom such things are horrible. I told them at once that it was a European officer who spoke, when, to my surprise, the noise ceased. They civilly listened as I reproached them with ingratitude – condemned their infamous conduct to helpless women and children – their pusillanimity when Confronted by us – and presented to them a picture of the ruin in which themselves and their families were sure to be soon involved.

“Why,” I asked, “have you mutinied, and what can you expect from the atrocities you have perpetrated?”

“We are fighting for our religion, which you meant to destroy.”

“In what manner have we threatened your faith?”

“By giving us greased cartridges,” Was the prompt response.

“That was a mistake,” I answered, “which the Government took the utmost pains to explain, and you were earnestly, and truly assured, that it had no intention of disregarding your religious prejudices. Did

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you ever know the British Government to make false professions? Has it not always spoken the truth?”

There was perfect silence for a while, when a voice, as if affected by the truth, remarked, “It is true!” Then there was quietness again, as if all were thinking. But, if they thought at all, their reveries were immediately disturbed by a command, in an authoritative voice, to fire, which they did so carelessly that there was no need this time to shift backwards. I mocked them, and challenged the officer to come down and fetch the tools, to which he replied that he had plenty, and would give me some if I came for them. The Sepoys were once more desired to fire at me, and refused, urging that they “wished to hear the Sahib speak!” I caused them to laugh at the officer, by asking him to wait till I fetched some women’s apparel, and kept them in humour with a fanciful account of our inexhaustible supplies – the speedy approach of the army which I have once before described as overrunning India – and endeavoured in vain to draw information from them.

They began filling up the mine with earth, but stopped whenever I spoke, sometimes calling to me to go on. I felt a foolish pride to possess the implements which lay nearly in the shaft, or pit, and told the Sepoys, at the opening of our conversation, that I would have them, and was answered by a defiance, for they were right under their guns. When I thought my talk had diverted their attention, I brought away the tools by a sudden spring, which so alarmed them, that only two men stayed to fire, and they were in such trepidation that both missed me at a distance of five or six feet, “Well done!” exclaimed the Sikhs and Sepoys in concert, as I retreated to my own gallery to watch the

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closing of the pit, which was now set about in earnest. In an hour more the adventure was over, and I went home to tell what I had done, very much pleased with myself and with everybody else in the world – which isn’t a bad one.

On another occasion, and in another direction of the defences, I sat nine hours in a mine waiting for the enemy to come in; but they worked so slowly that about three feet of the distance remained when I quitted the spot at 7 o’clock p.m., wet, cramped, and hungry. We knew, from the direction, that the enemy’s gallery was a long one, and I was in hopes that it would give me a chance of bringing in alive the miner or miners for Sir James Outram and his able Chief of the Staff. About 12 o’clock at night Lieutenant Innes broke in, but the miners being warned by some one coughing, they put out the light and escaped.

Lieutenant Grant, of the Madras Fusiliers, who commanded at this place, was wounded through the stomach soon after, and we were deprived of the services of a very active, judicious, and gallant officer, who, strange to say, has recovered from the effects of the wound, and is doing duty with his regiment, if the astounding courage of Earl Canning has not forced it out the service.

It is vain to say, but it may be of use to me for the reader to know, that I was the only officer during the siege, who had any successful subterranean encounters with the enemy, because it always happened that I was on duty when they came. My comrades were up to such hazardous work, and there were few who would not have done it as well, if not better than myself.

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Our chivalrous General, Sir James, used jokingly to surprise his visitors who were not in the secret, by saying, that, as the articles of war condemned a man to death for conferring with an enemy, Kavanagh was to be hung! When I was a wild lad, ready for any mischief, my uncle used to say that such was the fate that awaited me.

After October the old and new garrisons were in high spirits,. for tidings reached us of the preparations for our rescue, and we already sniffed, in imagination; the savoury viands and inspiring draughts, long absent from our covetous eyes. The few numbers of the Home News, and fragments of Indian papers brought in by Havelock’s force, were eagerly perused by us over and over again, and it was soothing to our outraged feelings to learn from them that all England was affected for us, and that the intrepid little army which had manfully resisted the enemy against great odds, had eventually been rewarded by the complete capture of Delhi.

I have now come down to the time when I went out to bring in Sir Colin Campbell to the relief of my suffering brothers and sisters, and, the story being a long one, I shall go over to another chapter, where I hope you will do me the honour of following me, for it is one of the recompenses I desire for doing my duty.

This collection transcribed by Chris Gage
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