Later, in the autumn of that year, Colonel Ramsay began to have serious doubts himself as to the reliability of Jung Bahadur’s report, and notified the Indian Government that he now had what he termed ‘fair presumptive evidence of the Nana’s existence’. He was reasonably certain that the story of his death had been circulated ‘to favour his escape and to aid his concealment in the Nepalese territories’.
His assumption relied upon one eyewitness. A fakir had told Ramsay’s orderly havildar that he had been in the Nana Sahib’s camp for some weeks after the death of Bala Rao, ‘until after Jung Bahadur went down in the terrain with his army in the cold weather. On reaching Butwal,’ the fakir continued, ‘Jung Bahadur sent for all the Pugree wallahs but Nana Sahib feared treachery and would not see him. He was resentful of the fact that Jung Bahadur had taken his money and now refused to give him any assistance.’ The fakir added that the Nana subsequently journeyed into the hills, ‘but he did not know whether he was alive’.
The mendicant’s tale had the ring of truth, but much to Colonel Ramsay’s disappointment he could not be traced to provide a sworn statement. His account did much to confirm Ramsay’s belief that there had been collusion between the Nana and Jung Bahadur over the account of the Nana’s death, and he was reasonably sure that the Nana was ‘still alive in the hills between the shrine of Muktineth and the Omaon frontier’.
No further action was taken, for it was now the official view that rumours of the Nana’s continued existence might well lead to a hard core around which disaffection would grow. The reward for the Nana’s capture was not withdrawn, but the report of his death was generally accepted despite the possibility that it had been his brother Bala Rao, and not the Nana, who had died in the jungle. John Sherer had little doubt that the Nana had indeed died in the jungles of Nepal. Prior to being hanged at Cawnpore, Jwala Prasad, the Nana’s brigadier, confessed to Sherer that ‘he was not present when the Nana died, but that he attended when the body was burned. He spoke,’ wrote Sherer, ‘apparently without attention to deceive, and I fully believed him.’
Stories concerning men resembling the Nana surfaced from time to time, and in October 1874 Mowbray Thomson was sent to interview a prisoner taken by the Maharajah of Gwalior. He did not at first think that he was the Nana, but when changes were made to the man’s dress and hair, Thomson thought he bore a close resemblance to the Nana Sahib. ‘The likeness was remarkable,’ wrote Mowbray Thomson. ‘Though I am unable to positively swear to him, so many years having elapsed since we met, I strongly believe him to be the rebel Nana Sahib.’
But the authorities could not agree. ‘I saw Colonel Mowbray Thomson yesterday,’ reported Lord Northbrook, ‘who inclines to think that the prisoner is the Nana, but his evidence is worth very little, for he had only the kind of acquaintance with the Nana that a subaltern has with a Rajah near cantonments.’
For many years rumours concerning the Nana persisted, but with the passage of time interest in his demise waned until a curious incident in a small town in Gujerat created a stir among the authorities in 1895. An old man who had been causing a disturbance near the police post was arrested. The following morning, a young police officer was told that an old man dressed as a mendicant had spoken in his sleep of Nepal, and had appealed for the protection of Jung Bahadur. When questioned, the would-be mendicant claimed to be the Nana Sahib and ‘that if he had his rights he would be the Peshwa’. A physical examination disclosed marks on his body closely resembling those the Nana was said to possess, and an urgent telegraph was sent to Calcutta.
‘Have arrested the Nana Sahib. Wire instructions.’ Back came the reply which no doubt astonished the young police officer. It was brief and incisive: ‘Release at once.’ The Government, conscious of the likelihood of the Nana becoming a martyr, was determined to put an end to all further speculation. Whether the old man’s claim was genuine or not is impossible to say, but there is some irony in the Nana being deliberately ignored by his enemies and left to wander the countryside, claiming to be the infamous Nana Sahib, only to be ignored and scorned by his own people for a homeless old man ‘whose brains God had filled with illusion’.
Nana Sahib left no heir, and in celebrating the centenary of the outbreak of the Mutiny, the Government of Uttar Pradesh erected a memorial to the Nana at Bithur. It stands as a bronze statue on what had once been part of the palace grounds, and the inscription on the pedestal, loosely translated, reads: ‘India will always remember Nana Sahib Dondu Pant’s self sacrifice and that will glorify India for ever.’
Another to escape justice was Hussaini Khassum, the infamous Begum of the Bibigarh, who fled to the hills with the Nana’s entourage. Not so fortunate was Sarvur Khan, the bodyguard she had employed to slaughter the women and children. In February 1858, Sergeant William Forbes-Mitchell encountered a native hawker whilst encamped at Cawnpore, describing him as ‘a very good looking, light coloured native in the prime of life. Speaking good English, the native told the sergeant that his name was Jamie Green and that he had General Hope Grant’s authorization to sell his wares in the camp. Although amused by ‘Jamie Green’s’ attempts to persuade the Highlanders to part with their money, Forbes-Mitchell took an exceptional dislike to his companion, a ‘villainous looking Eurasian named Mickey’. The next day he discovered that both had been arrested and condemned to death, the one for spying for the Lucknow rebels, and the Eurasian for having been identified as Sarvur Khan. ‘Jamie Green’ later confessed to Forbes-Mitchell that he was no native Christian but Mohammad Ali Khan, who had travelled to London with Azimullah. Questioned by Forbes-Mitchell on the reason for the massacre of the women and children, Mohammad Ali Khan replied, ‘The murder of the European women and children at Cawnpore was a woman’s crime for there is no fiend equal to a female fiend; but what cause she had for enmity against the unfortunate ladies I don’t know. I never enquired.’ He and Sarvur Khan were hanged shortly afterwards.
The fate of other prominent mutineers is less clear, apart from Firuz Shah who died in poverty at Mecca in 1877. Baba Bhutt, the Nana’s adoptive brother, together with an ailing Azimullah Khan, were observed travelling towards Calcutta. Azimullah, so it was rumoured, died of smallpox before reaching their destination. Another version of his fate has it that he fled from India in the company of a Miss Clayton, only to be murdered in Istanbul following the death of Miss Clayton in old age.
The generals responsible for the successful outcome of the operations to re-occupy Cawnpore and Lucknow, fared considerably better, as one might expect, although upon being elevated to the peerage as Lord Clyde, Sir Colin Campbell was heard to remark, ‘It’s too late. There is nobody alive to whom I care to tell the news’.
Sir James Outram left Calcutta in April 1858 to take up an appointment as the Military Member of the Governor General’s Council, until reasons of health caused him to resign the office two years later. He sailed for England in July to be welcomed as a hero and fêted at a banquet given in honour of himself and Lord Clyde. He died peacefully in his armchair in 1863 at Pau in the South of France, and is buried in Westminster Abbey, to be joined there a few months later by his old comrade, Lord Clyde.
Concerning the fate of the junior officers and officials closely connected with the events in Cawnpore and Lucknow, none achieved a greater claim to fame than Frederick Sleigh Roberts VC, who became the most distinguished soldier of the Victorian Age. As Field Marshal Earl Roberts of Kandahar he was to play a notable role in defeating the Boers in 1902. Lieutenants Mowbray Thomson and Henry Delafosse both survived a shipwreck on their journey home to England before pursuing their military careers with distinction. Both served on the North-West Frontier and retired as generals, Mowbray Thomson eventually receiving a knighthood. He died in his bed at Reading sixty years after the event which had made him a popular Victorian hero. His old friend Henry Delafosse preceded him by twelve years, dying in 1905.
William ‘Jonah’ Shepherd, greatly disturbed by his experiences during th
e siege, resigned his position as Head Clerk in the Commissariat division and left Cawnpore for Agra. He was given a grant of land and Rs. 1,000 as a reward for ‘services rendered during the siege of Cawnpore’, but finding it barely adequate to both support himself and the villagers he was responsible for, having bought the village, he rejoined the service, dying in 1891 at the age of sixty-six.
Amelia Horne, after witnessing the brutal murders of her family at the Satichaura Ghat, was rescued by a sowar who in the general confusion succeeded in concealing her from the other mutineers. Later, dressed as a Mohammedan female, she was forcibly converted to Islam and spent ten months as the mistress of her captor, Ismael Khan. Eventually, acting on the promise of a free pardon to rebels who delivered up their prisoners, he released her in Allahabad. In 1858 she settled in Calcutta where she met and married a William Bennett. Recovering slowly from her horrific experiences, she spent the rest of her days in relative poverty, giving piano lessons and writing her memoirs.
Of the two soldiers who escaped the massacre with Mowbray Thomson and Delafosse, Private Murphy of the 86th of Foot found employment as the first custodian of the Memorial Garden in Cawnpore, but fate dealt a tragic blow to Gunner Sullivan, who enjoyed just two weeks of freedom before being struck down by cholera, dying shortly after the four survivors reached the safety of Havelock’s camp.
Even as late as November 1859 the area which had been the site of the cantonments in Cawnpore remained as a desolate sandy waste. After paying a visit on her return from Lucknow, Lady Charlotte Canning recorded her impressions in a letter to Queen Victoria:
I am tomorrow to go over the sad scene with Captain Mowbray Thomson, one of the survivors of the massacre … I suppose it is one’s impression of the horrors which have happened here which throw such a gloom over the place, but I think I never saw anything so hopelessly arid and gloomy. Ruined houses everywhere and every spot with a story of horror. We are to choose the site of the memorial church tomorrow & lay out the ground round the well. The design of the memorial monument will be chosen from some expected from England.
She ended her letter by stating: ‘I never knew what heat was till I came here & the damp moist air of Calcutta is to me far less trying than this parched climate.’
It was a design of Lady Canning’s which was eventually adopted as the basis for a marble statue, Angel of the Resurrection, sculptured by Baron Marechetti, which became the central feature of a memorial garden established shortly after law and order had been restored to the province. The sculpture never received the universal acclaim expected of it. In a handbook for visitors to Cawnpore, H.G. Keane described it thus: ‘The result is not wholly satisfactory. The statue is monotonous and unmeaning in design, rough and inartistic in execution. The ogee doorway and cast iron doors are the only decent feature.’
Percival Landon was even more forthright in his condemnation. Writing in 1906, he told potential visitors: ‘the cheap German Gothic screen and clap trap angel who stands with crossed palm branches over the well head might surely have been spared to those who hold the ground sacred … the well head itself is in the same deplorable state as the angel and the screen.’
The garden remained under the control of the military authorities until 1863, during which time anyone of Indian birth was refused entry. This ban remained in force right up to the day of independence when all restrictions on entry were removed by the State Government of Uttar Pradash in 1947. Two years later, the Angel and its screen were moved to the compound of All Souls Memorial Church near the site of Wheeler’s entrenchment.
Because of its Mutiny fame, Lucknow enjoyed a special status with the British during the time they governed India, and indeed the Union flag which had been raised above the ruins of the Residency in 1858, remained there in spite of its tattered condition for almost ninety years until August 1947, when independence was declared.
Commenting on his experiences during the Mutiny, William Forbes-Mitchell remarked:
It was a war of downright butchery. Whenever the rebels met a Christian or a white man he was killed without pity or remorse, and every native who had assisted any such to escape, or was known to have concealed them, was as remorselessly put to death whenever the rebels had the ascendant. Conversely, whenever a rebel in arms was met upon whom suspicion rested, his shrift was as short and his fate as sure.
William Swanston, the civilian volunteer from Allahabad, was in no doubt as to why the sepoys had mutinied:
It was entirely a matter of caste. I have little doubt that the principal instigators will be found to be the Mohammedans … The annexation of Oudh, though I believe a wise and necessary measure, has been no doubt the straw that has broken the camel’s back, though in a way we never expected. That the villainous and barbarous deeds committed have, with few exceptions, been perpetrated by the Mohammedans there is little doubt; and however guilty the Hindoo soldiery may be, the Hindoos as a race have generally been the people to save and protect the Christians.
In his summing up of the causes, John Sherer raises some interesting and relevant points which are worth quoting:
It must not be overlooked that there were large parts of India which experienced no mutiny, and other parts where what mutiny occurred did not excite the people. On the whole the native princes behaved very well; the large states did us little harm, and some of the small ones who took part against us would sooner have remained neutral if the rebels would have allowed them to do so. That the Moslem section of the army should have gathered at Delhi, and made the Emperor’s name a rallying cry, is not to be wondered at.
He goes on to pose a question:
But what made the Hindoos take the same course, and cluster around the long disused throne of the Great Mogul? It cannot be supposed that the Hindoo soldiers could really wish for a Mohammedan government; they must have merely thought that Moslem enthusiasm would serve well as an influence against the British rule. There can be no doubt that the power of the Brahmins amongst the soldiers was very great. And the Brahmins have been always the inimical force which is discontented with British supremacy. Not because it is British, but because it is Western … because the political principles of the West are all opposed to any belief in caste – that is, caste as understood in India.
Despite the reforms which followed the Mutiny, chief among them being a Bill which transferred the functions of the East India Company to the Crown, the Government still relied to a large extent upon the support of Indian soldiers to maintain its authority. It will always remain open to doubt as to whether the uprising could have been suppressed without the support of those sepoys who remained loyal to the Raj. History has recorded little of their fate and it is appropriate that a remark made by a veteran present at the unveiling of a memorial at Lucknow in 1876, to those sepoys who had fallen in the service of the East India Company, should be recorded for posterity. The surviving loyal sepoys of the Lucknow garrison, dressed in their old uniforms and wearing their medals, were presented to the Prince of Wales.
It was an occasion to be remembered by all who were there, and one old Lucknow veteran, perhaps thinking of the rewards his years of service should had brought him, could not resist putting in a word about his pension – ‘14 rupees a month, Sharzadah! It’s not much, is it?’
SELECT BIBLIOGRAPHY
Allen, Charles, A Glimpse of the Burning Plain, London, 1986.
Anderson, R.F., A Personal Journey, London 1858.
Bartrum, Katherine Mary, A Widow’s Reminiscences of Lucknow, London, 1858.
Bingham, G.W.F., Diary (typed copy), National Army Museum, ref. 5903-105.
Case, Adelaide, Day by Day to Lucknow, London, 1858.
Chand, Nanak, Diary Cawnpore, National Army Museum, ref. 1857 (54).
Dawson, Lionel, Squires and Sepoys, London, 1964.
Germon, Maria Vincent, A Journal of the Siege of Lucknow, London, 1858.
Harris, Georgina Maria, A Lady’s Diary of the Siege of Lucknow, London, 1858.
Harris, John, The Indian Mutiny, London, 1973.
Hibbert, Christopher, The Great Mutiny, New York, 1978.
Huxham, Mrs G., A Personal Narrative of the Siege of Lucknow, National Army Museum, ref. 7303-24.
Majendie, Vivian Dering, Up Among the Pandies, London, 1859.
Maude, J.F., VC, Memoirs of the Mutiny, London, 1908.
Metcalfe, H., Reminiscences of the Great Mutiny, London, 1953.
Moorsum, H.M., Letters, India Office Library, ref. mss Eur. E299.
Munro, W., Reminiscences of Military Service, London, 1883.
North, C, Journal of an English Officer, London, 1858.
Rees, L.E.R., Personal Narrative of the Siege of Lucknow, London, 1858.
Ruggles, J., Recollection of a Lucknow Veteran, London, 1906.
Russell, W.H., My Diary in India, London, 1859.
Shepherd, W., A Personal Narrative of the Outbreak and Massacre at Cawnpore, Lucknow, 1886.
Sherer, J.W., Daily Life During the Indian Mutiny, London, 1898.
Smith, Ludlow, Journal (typescript), National Army Museum, ref. 1857 (54).
Swanston, W.O., My Journal by a Volunteer, Calcutta, 1858.
Ward, Andrew, Our Bones are Scattered, New York, 1996.
Watson, F.S., Journal (typescript), National Army Museum, ref. 92 WAT.
INDEX
Addison, Henry, 4–6
Alexander, Lieutenant Gordon, 163, 171
Anderson, Captain R.F., 120–1, 128, 134, 136–7, 139–40, 146–7, 157–8, 170
Atkinson, Captain George, 7–8
Azimulla Khan,
truce offer, 61
death of, 198
see also: 28–9, 35, 37, 60, 65, 82, 91, 178
Bartrum, Mrs Katherine Mary, 122, 128, 133–4, 144–5, 149, 155, 168, 170
Cawnpore & Lucknow Page 25