CHAPTER XVII
With the Gurkha Picket
On the morning of the 12th of June our friends on the Ridge were outsoon after dawn, visiting their respective pickets and receivingreports. All was quiet. They gazed with admiration on the wonderfulpanorama, at the stately mosques, minarets, and towers of the royalcity, at the huge mass of walls bulking in threatening manner beforethem, at the king's palace--a town in itself--that stood to the far sideof the city, and at the blue waters of the Jumna glittering andsparkling in the sun, washing the opposite walls to those whose heavyguns had poured shot and shell at our men but a few hours ago. To thesouth of the Ridge lay the picturesque suburbs of the Kishengang and theSabzi-mandi, with their magnificent buildings, walled gardens, and shadygroves.
The peaceful scene was not of long duration. The guns of the Mori andKashmir bastions presently belched forth a shower of shot and shell,and, under cover of the heavy fire, two large bodies of mutineers pouredout to the attack, one charging the Gurkha picket, the other pushing itsway through the gardens, sheltered by trees and walls. Those sepoyregiments attacking Hindu Rao's mansion saw only dark faces between themand their desire.
"Come over to us!" the Brahmans shouted to the Gurkhas. "Come over, andwe'll reward you; you shall have treasure and honour. You are of ourreligion. Siva, the Destroyer, is fighting on our side. Join us indriving away the white men. Come!"
"Yes, we are coming! Wait for us!" shouted back the Nepalese. And theywent, with bayonets fixed and kukris bared; but the rebels waited not.Terrified by the determined faces and gleaming steel, they turned andfled, pursued for some distance by the fierce little mountaineers.Thenceforward the Gurkhas were hated with a hatred as bitter as thataccorded to the British.
"Those monkeys of Gurkhas are renegades to their faith!" declared theBrahman priests to those mutineers in Delhi who were of theirpersuasion. "They prefer to receive the Englishman's pay rather thanfollow the dictates of their holy men. Let them be outcasts! Spare themnot! When we have destroyed the white men, then shall we deal with them,if any have escaped by that time!"
The attack made at the same time on the troops stationed below the Ridgemet with no better success. The British soldiers down there were no lesseager than their comrades up above to give the foemen a taste of theirquality. After some hours' hard fighting, the rebels were repulsed withheavy loss, and our men began to feel happy, fondly imagining that thetide was already turning in their favour.
The unthinking ones and the least experienced talked confidently ofentering Delhi in a few days, or a week or two at most. They underratedthe strength of the enemy, and also the determination of themutineers,--a mistake the British soldier is wont to make.
Undismayed by this reverse, the enemy came out to attack our posts everyday between the 12th and 17th of June, and every day they were beatenback. Time after time they flung themselves in heavy masses against thesmall force defending the Ridge, only to be hurled back again and againby the Gurkhas, the Guides Infantry, and the Englishmen of the 60thRifles, who all fought with equally unflinching gallantry.
But on the 17th of June, Major Reid, to his delight, was ordered to acton the offensive. The enemy had commenced to erect batteries outside thewalls, in the Kishengang and Trevelyan-gang suburbs, commanding theBritish positions, and this could not be allowed. Reid's men, withanother column from the main force, sallied forth and stormed thepositions, routed the foe, and destroyed the works. But not without losswas this accomplished. Our foemen were no cravens; they flung themselvesnot once but many times with desperate courage against their assailants,making little impression, however, on the stern warriors of England,Scotland, and Ireland, of the Punjab, and of Nepal.
When morning dawned next day the officers reminded the British soldiersthat this was Waterloo-day, and the remembrance of that gloriousvictory, and of the valour of their fathers, roused a new enthusiasm. Onthis day the Guides Cavalry had their turn, and acquitted themselveslike the heroes they were. But once more they paid a price for sodistinguishing themselves, for Captain Daly, their gallant leader, wascarried away severely wounded.
The knowledge that his men had proved themselves so worthy consoledCaptain Daly in his pain. There were few soldiers in the force now whowere not ready to admit, and to back their opinion with curious andunnecessary oaths, that these two native regiments were an invaluableacquisition to the force--that Guides and Gurkhas were worthy to upholdthe reputation of the British army.
Little of importance happened during the next three or four days, thoughthe batteries were continually playing on the Ridge. One round-shot camecrashing through the portico of Hindu Rao's house with terrible effect,killing an English officer and eight Gurkhas.
On June the 23rd the rebels made a vow. This day was the centenary ofthe battle of Plassy. For just one hundred years had the Feringhis'dominion lasted, and now, according to the Moslem prophets, their timewas come. So the sepoys, maddened by the resistance offered to theirattacks, furious that these Gurkhas should persistently remain at theirpost, ever watchful and ever eager for the fray in spite of theincessant cannonade, vowed that on this day Hindu Rao's house should becaptured.
About mid-day the attack on the Ridge began, the insurgents swarming upon every side. Beaten back, but reinforced by fresh hordes, they againcame to the attack with desperate valour, to be once more repulsed bythe Gurkhas. Foiled but not done with, the enemy recommenced a briskcannonade of the handful who opposed them. Under cover of this fire afresh assault was made, and for a moment the post seemed lost. The darkuniforms of the English riflemen, the drab of the Guides, and the uglydress of the Gurkhas, seemed lost amidst those swarming thousands.Somehow Ensign Russell found himself in the front with the Gurkhacompany of the Guides. Little Subadar Merban Sing, the captain of thecompany, stood at his elbow, as mild in appearance as usual, smilingpleasantly and serenely as he watched the straining and tugging bodies,the uplifted and downfalling arms, the musket flashes on every side, thethrusting of bayonets and slicing of kukris, and, as calmly as if onparade, he gave directions to his men.
Inspired by his companion's coolness and absolute lack of fear, Tedfought manfully at his side. A Guide in front of him stumbled, badlywounded. It was Merban Sing's brother. Quick as thought Ted dashedforward and stood over the body as half a dozen sepoys ran to thrusttheir bayonets into the helpless Gurkha. With his pistol Ted shot one,gave another the point of his sword, and Merban Sing, again at his side,struck down two more whose bayonet-points were almost plunged in theensign's breast. The Gurkha subadar, felled from behind, dropped overhis wounded brother, who at the same time received his death-wound. Arush from behind brought a dozen more Guides around the lad, who sawsteel flash in front of his face, and felt a burning sensation in hischeek; then his head seemed to split, and he remembered no more.
With yells of triumph the myriad enemy pushed forward, but not tovictory. Major Reid's voice rang out clear, keeping his men together,and with a cheer the gallant fellows responded. The riflemen closed up,shoulder to shoulder, and, first pouring a withering fire into the mass,dashed forward with the bayonet, followed by the Guides, who also usedthat best of weapons. The little Nepalese, throwing down musket andbayonet, drew their razor-edged kukris and plunged into the thick oftheir opponents, hewing them down and scattering them on every side bythe fury of their charge. The foe gave ground and the crisis had passed.The officers cheered, the men responded, and again a bayonet and kukricharge drove the pandies farther back. Then the Rifles and Guides,kneeling down, sent volley after volley into the mass of waveringsepoys, and followed up their advantage by again charging home, and thedanger was passed. But the enemy, though disheartened, were not routed;the conflict still raged fast and furious. The rebel guns, which hadceased firing during the hand-to-hand fighting, again gave tongue withdeadly effect. Taking advantage of the diversion thus created, theplucky sepoys made a last desperate effort to fulfil their vow, only toreceive further punishment. As the sun went down and the light
faded,the rebels lost heart and retired, discouraged and cowed, to the shelterof their walls, hastened on the way by the bullets which dropped amongstthem.
Everywhere had the attack failed, both on the Ridge and below. Butthough a severe blow had been dealt to the mutineers, too many of ourown had been slain; for the sepoys in Delhi could better spare athousand men than could the army before Delhi afford to lose fourscore.To resist an attack was one thing; to storm the city successfully wouldbe quite another.
When Ensign Russell came to himself he was back in the Mahratta'smansion, his brother and cousin by his side as the doctor examined him.
"Thank God that you've a thick head, young man," observed that official;and turning to the others he added, "He'll be all right in a few days."
"What's the matter?" asked the boy. His head was ringing and singing,and he felt sick.
"Crack on the head with the butt-end, Teddy," answered Charlie. "Itknocked you senseless, and Goria Thapia carried you out of danger. Goodjob you've got the Russell skull. I expect the musket was smashed tobits! Without joking, old boy, you've had a narrow escape."
"What's the matter with my cheek--it's stinging frightfully?" asked Ted.
"Your cheek?" replied Jim, laughing. "Oh, nothing's the matter withthat! It's as big and fine and well-developed as usual." Jim then placedhis hand on his brother's brow. "A sword or bayonet has just grazed yourcheek, Ted, old man, and taken the skin off. It will be painful, butyou'll hardly feel it in a week's time. Now, go to sleep."
"But how did the fight go after I was dropped, Jim? Was Merban Singkilled?"
Captain Russell related the stirring incidents of the day, and told howMerban Sing and two of his brothers had laid down their lives to defendtheir trust.
For some time after this determined assault the rebels became morecautious, whilst our men sat tight, waiting for reinforcements and for asiege-train with which to batter those heavy walls whereon our littleguns made no impression.
When off duty, officers and men would stroll from one regiment's linesto another, the chief meeting-place being the Flagstaff Tower on thenorth end of the Ridge, well out of range. Games at cricket and quoits,as well as polo-matches and races, were arranged. Numerous were thevisitors to Hindu Rao's house, as men from all the regiments came to seethis important outpost, to note the damage done by shot and shell, andto scrutinize those wonderfully tough little Gurkhas who were the firstline of defence, and who were enjoying themselves hugely.
But though Major Reid[14] had many visitors, he himself never once lefthis post during these months of bitter fighting. He was guardian of theRidge, and cricket, quoits, and races appealed to him in vain.
[14] Afterwards General Sir Charles Reid, K.C.B.
The 60th Rifles and the Sirmuris had become the best of friends andclosest of chums, and in the early days of the fighting, when tobaccowas still to be obtained without difficulty, little Gurkhas and heavyYorkshiremen or sprightly Cockneys might be seen sitting side by side,smoking their pipes contentedly, and offering one another tobacco bysigns, being unable to exchange a word.
By the end of June the casualties among the Rifles, Guides, and Gurkhashad been terrible, and the top room of the house had been turned into aGurkha hospital, for the wounded Nepalese refused to leave their post.Their British comrades offered to carry them to the big hospital in thecantonments below, where comparative peace and quietness reigned, andwhere they might have the best medical aid, but the Gurkhas would havenone of it. They preferred to stay by their comrades, to listen to theshot and shell whistling around, to hear the news each day--who haddistinguished himself, and whether their beloved Major Reid and hisofficers were still unharmed. So Reid, with tears of pride in his eyes,yielded to the wish of his children, and there they stayed.
The troops had been reinforced, but no siege-train had arrived. At theirvarious posts in the Punjab John Lawrence, Herbert Edwardes, and JohnNicholson were recruiting the wild Sikhs and still wilder Pathans intoregiments of irregular cavalry and infantry. Edwardes, Nicholson, andBrigadier Cotton, in command at Peshawur, the gate of India, had soimpressed the tribes under their sway with the might of England, thatthese fierce men, though at first ready to join the rebels, had changedtheir tone, and now volunteered to fight against the sahibs' enemy.
Old men, young men, and men of middle age brought their horses andweapons before these great Englishmen, and begged to be allowed toenlist. So week by week some Punjabi,[15] Sikh, or Pathan regiments offoot or horse would march proudly to the Delhi camp, sent down bycommand of John Lawrence, who himself could ill afford to spare them.The first reinforcements to arrive were the 1st and 2nd Punjab Infantryand the 4th Sikhs. The 1st P.N.I, were commanded by Major Coke, and wereknown as "Coke's Rifles" or as "Cokeys", and a gallant lot they proved,as did indeed their comrade corps.
[15] The Punjabi corps would consist chiefly of Mohammedan inhabitants of the Punjab, Sikhs, and Pathans, with some Jats and Dogras.