In Times of Peril: A Tale of India

by G. A. Henty

  CHAPTER X.

  TREACHERY.

  Of all the names connected with the Indian mutiny, Cawnpore stands outconspicuous for its dark record of treachery, massacre, and bloodshed;and its name will, so long as the English language continues, beregarded as the darkest in the annals of our nation. Cawnpore issituated on the Ganges, one hundred and twenty-three miles northwest ofAllahabad, and was at the time of our story a large straggling town,extending nearly five miles along the river. It stands on a sandyplain, intensely hot and dusty in summer, and possesses no fort orother building such as proved the safety of the Europeans in Agra andAllahabad. The force stationed there at the first outbreak of themutiny consisted of the First, Fifty-third, and Fifty-sixth NativeRegiments, the Second Regiment of Bengal Cavalry, and about fiftyEuropean invalid artillerymen. When the news of the revolt at Meerutreached Cawnpore, and it was but too probable that the mutiny wouldspread to all the native regiments throughout the country, Sir HughWheeler, who was in command, at once set to work to prepare a fortifiedposition, in which to retire with the European residents in case ofnecessity. To this end he connected with breastworks a large unfinishedbuilding intended as a military hospital, with the church and someother buildings, all standing near the center of the grand parade, andsurrounded the whole with an intrenchment. Within these lines hecollected ammunition, stores and provisions for a month's consumptionfor a thousand persons, and having thus, as he hoped, prepared for theworst, he awaited the event.

  Although there was much uneasiness and disquietude, things went ontolerably well up to the middle of May. Then Sir Hugh Wheeler sent toLucknow, forty miles distant, to ask for a company of white troops, toenable him to disarm the Sepoys; and he also asked aid of Nana Sahib,Rajah of Bithoor, who was looked upon as a stanch friend of theEnglish. On the 22d of May fifty-five Europeans of the Thirty-secondRegiment, and two hundred and forty native troopers of the Oudeirregular cavalry, arrived from Lucknow, and two guns and three hundredmen were sent in by the Rajah of Bithoor.

  Nana Sahib was at this time a man of thirty-two years of age, havingbeen born in the year 1825. He was the son of poor parents, and had atthe age of two years and a half been adopted by the Peishwa, who had nochildren of his own. In India adoption is very common, and an adoptedson has all the legal rights of a legitimate offspring. The Peishwa,who was at one time a powerful prince, was dethroned by us for havingon several occasions joined other princes in waging war against us, butwas honorably treated, and an annuity of eighty thousand pounds a yearwas assigned to him and his heirs. In 1851 the Peishwa died, leavingNana Dhoondu Pant, for that was the Nana's full name, his heir andsuccessor. The Company refused to continue the grant to Nana Sahib, andin so doing acted in a manner at once impolitic and unjust. It wasunjust, because they had allowed the Peishwa and Nana Sahib, up to thedeath of the former, to suppose that the Indian law of adoption wouldbe recognized here as in all other cases; it was impolitic, because asthe greater portion of the Indian princes had adopted heirs, these wereall alarmed at the refusal to recognize the Nana, and felt that asimilar blow might be dealt to them.

  Thus, at this critical period of our history, the minds of the greatIndian princes were all alienated from us, by what was in their eyes atonce a breach of a solemn engagement, and a menace to every reigninghouse. Nana Sahib, however, evinced no hostility to the English rule.He had inherited the private fortune of the Peishwa, and lived in greatstate at Bithoor. He affected greatly the society of the Britishresidents at Cawnpore, was profuse in his hospitality, and was regardedas a jovial fellow and a stanch friend of the English. When the mutinybroke out, it proved that he was only biding his time. Nana Sahib wasdescribed by an officer who knew him four years before the mutiny, asthen looking at least forty years old and very fat. "His face is round,his eyes very wild, brilliant and restless. His complexion, as is thecase with most native gentlemen, is scarcely darker than that of a darkSpaniard, and his expression is, on the whole, of a jovial, and indeed,somewhat rollicking character." In reality, this rollicking nativegentleman was a human tiger.

  On the very night that the men of the Thirty-second came in from Oude,there was an alarm of a rising, and the ladies and children of thestation took refuge in the fortified post prepared for them; and fromthat time the sufferings of the residents commenced, although it wasnot for a fortnight afterward that the mutiny took place; for theovercrowding and the intense heat at once began to affect the health ofthose huddled together in ill-ventilated rooms, and deprived of all theluxuries which alone make existence endurable to white people in Indiancities on the plains during the heats of summer. Scarce a day passedwithout news of risings at other stations taking place, and with thereceipt of each item of intelligence the insolence displayed by theSepoys increased.

  A few English troops arrived from Allahabad and at midnight upon the4th of June, when the natives broke into revolt, there were in theintrenchments of Cawnpore eighty-three officers of various regiments,sixty men of the Eighty-fourth Regiment, and seventy of theThirty-second, fifteen of the First Madras Fusiliers, and a few invalidgunners; the whole defensive force consisting of about two hundred andforty men, and six guns. There were under their charge a large numberof ladies and children, the wives and families of the officers andcivilians at the station, sixty-four women and seventy-six childrenbelonging to the soldiers, with a few native servants who remainedfaithful. The total number of women, children, and non-effectivesamounted to about eight hundred and seventy persons.

  During the night of the 4th of June the whole of the native troopsrose, set fire to all the European residences outside theintrenchments, and marched to Nawabgunge, a place four miles away. Amessage was sent by them to Nana Sahib, to the effect that they weremarching to Delhi, and inviting him to assume the command. This he atonce assented to, and arrived at Nawabgunge a few hours later, with sixhundred troops and four guns; and his first act was to divide thecontents of the English treasury there, which had been guarded by hisown troops, among the mutineers.

  Having destroyed the European buildings, the force marched toKulleanpore, on its way to Delhi; but on its reaching this place thesame evening, Nana Sahib called together the native officers, andadvised them to return to Cawnpore and kill all the Europeans there.Then they would be thought much of when they arrived at Delhi. Theproposal was accepted with acclamation, and during the night the rebelarmy marched back to Cawnpore, which they invested the next morning;the last message from Sir Hugh Wheeler came through on that day,fighting having begun at half-past ten in the morning.

  The first proceeding of the mutineers was to take possession of thenative town of Cawnpore, where the houses of the peaceable and wealthyinhabitants were at once broken open and plundered, and manyrespectable natives slaughtered.

  The bombardment of the British position began on the 6th, and continuedwith daily increasing fury. Every attempt to carry the place by stormwas repelled, but the sufferings of the besieged were frightful. Therewas but one well, in the middle of the intrenchments, and upon this bynight and by day the enemy concentrated their fire, so that it might besaid that every bucket of water cost a man's life. After four or fivedays of incessant bombardment, the enemy took to firing red-hot shot,and on the 13th the barracks were set on fire, and, a strong windblowing, the fire spread so rapidly that upward of fifty sick andwounded were burned. The other buildings were so riddled with shot andshell that they afforded scarcely any shelter. Many of the besiegedmade holes in the ground or under the banks of the intrenchments; butthe deaths from sunstroke and fever were even more numerous than thosecaused by the murderous and incessant fire.

  In the city a reign of terror prevailed. All the native Christians weremassacred, with their wives and families; and every white prisonerbrought in--and they were many--man, woman, or child, was taken beforethe Nana, and murdered by his orders.

  Day by day the sufferings of the garrison in the intrenchments becamegreater, and the mortality among the woman and children was terrible.Every da
y saw the army of the Nana increasing, by the arrival ofmutineers from other quarters, until it reached a total of over twelvethousand men, while the fighting force of the garrison had greatlydecreased; yet the handful of Englishmen repulsed every effort of thegreat host of assailants to carry the fragile line of intrenchments.

  When Ned and Dick Warrener, having carried out the instructions givenby the ranee, arrived next morning at her house at Cawnpore, Ahrab atonce led them to a small apartment.

  "I have much news to tell you. The fighting is over here. The Nana sentin a messenger to the English sahibs, to say that if they would give upthe place, with the guns and treasure, he would grant a free passagefor all; and the Nana and his Hindoo officers have sworn the sacredoath of our religion, and the Mohammedans have sworn on the Koran, thatthese conditions shall be observed. Boats are to be provided for themall. They leave to-morrow at dawn. Her highness the ranee will shelteryou here if you like to stay; but if you wish it you can go at daybreakand join your countrymen."

  With many thanks for the ranee's offer, the boys at once decided tojoin their countrymen; and accordingly next morning after a kindfarewell from their protectress, they started before daybreak undercharge of their driver of the day before, and, still in their disguisesof native women, made their way to a point on the line of route outsidethe town. There were but few people here, and, just as day broke thehead of the sad procession came along. The women and children, the sickand wounded--among the latter Sir H. Wheeler, the gallant commander ofthe garrison--were in wagons provided by the Nana; the remnant of thefighting men marched afterward. Hastily dropping their women's robes,the boys slipped in among the troops, unnoticed by any of the guards ofNana's troops who were escorting the procession.

  A few words explained to their surprised compatriots that they werefugitives who had been in shelter in the town, and many a word ofwelcome was muttered, and furtive handshakes given. In return the boyswere able to give the news of the arrival of the British before Delhi,and the commencement of the siege, all of which was new to thegarrison, who had been for twenty-two days without a word from theouter world. At last the column reached the ghat, or landing-place,fixed upon for their embarkation.

  Here seventeen or eighteen boats were collected. The way down to theriver was steep, for the bank of the Ganges is here rather high, andcovered with thick jungle. At the top of the ghat is a small Hindootemple. The wounded and sick were carried down the bank and placed inthe boats, the ladies and children took their places, the officers andmen then followed. When all was ready, the Nana's officer suddenlycalled the native boatmen to come ashore to receive their wages for thepassage down to Benares.

  Then, as if by magic, from out the thick jungle on both sides of thepath to the ghat, hundreds of Sepoys rushed; while at the same momentlines of bushes fell to the ground, and showed a number of cannon, allplaced in position. In a moment a tremendous fire was opened upon theunhappy fugitives. Numbers of them were at once killed in the boats;some jumped into the water, and, pushing the boats afloat, made for theopposite shore; while others leaped into the river on the deeper sideand tried to escape by swimming. But upon the other shore were enemiesas bloodthirsty as those they left behind, for there the Sepoys of theSeventeenth Native Regiment, who had mutinied at Azimghur, were posted,and these cut off the retreat of the fugitives there. Then all theboats, with the exception of two or three which had drifted downstream, followed by bands of Sepoys with cannon on either bank, werebrought back to the starting-place, which is known, and will be knownthrough all time, as "the slaughter ghat." There all the men stillalive were taken on shore and shot; while the women and children, manyof them bleeding from wounds, were taken off to a house formerlybelonging to the medical department of the European troops, called theSubada Khotee.

  Dick and Ned Warrener were in one of the boats which were still ashorewhen the treacherous Sepoys burst from their hiding-place. "Thescoundrels!" burst from Ned indignantly; while Dick, seeing at a glancethe hopelessness of their position, grasped his brother's arm.

  "We must swim for it, Ned, Take a long dive, and go under again themoment you have got breath."

  Without an instant's delay the brothers leaped into the water, asdozens of others were doing; and although each time their heads came upfor an instant the bullets splashed around them, they kept on untoucheduntil they reached the center of the stream. They were still withinmusket range, but the distance was sufficient to render them prettysafe except against an accidental shot. They looked back and saw theSepoys had many of them entered the river up to their shoulders, toshoot the swimmers: others on horseback had ridden far out, and werecutting down those who, unable to swim far, made again toward shallowwater; while cannon and muskets still poured in their fire against thehelpless crowds in the boats.

  "Look, Ned, it is of no use making for the other shore," Dick said;"there is another body of the wretches there; we must simply float downthe stream in the middle. If we keep on our backs, and sink as low aswe can, so as to show only our noses and mouths above water, they mayfire for a week without hitting us. There, give me your hand, so thatwe may float together; I will look up from time to time to see that weare floating pretty fairly in the middle, I will do it quickly, so asnot to be seen, for if we lie still on our backs they won't watch usafter a time, but will take us for two drifting dead bodies. Now, oldboy!" So saying, the lads turned on their backs, and occasionallygiving a quiet stroke with their legs, or paddling with their hands,drifted down stream, showing so little of their faces above water thatthey could scarcely have been seen from the shore.

  Both the lads were good swimmers, but Dick was perfectly at home in thewater; and Ned, knowing his own inferiority in this respect, lefthimself entirely in his brother's hands. Soon Dick, in his quickglances to note their position, perceived that three boats alone of allthe number had got fairly away down stream--that their occupants hadgot out oars and were quickly coming up to the swimmers; but he saw,too, that on both banks the Sepoy guns kept abreast of them, and that afire of artillery and musketry was maintained. For a moment he thoughtof being taken on board; but their chance of escaping the fire centeredupon them seemed hopeless, and he judged it was better to keep on inthe water. He accordingly paddled himself out of the center of thestream, so as to give the boats a wide berth, trusting that theattention of the enemy would be so much directed at the boats that thefloating bodies would be unnoticed. As to keeping afloat for any time,he had no fear whatever. The water of Indian rivers in the heat ofsummer is so warm that swimmers can remain in them for many hourswithout any feeling of chill or discomfort.

  An hour later Dick lifted his head and looked forward. The firing wastwo miles ahead now. But one boat of the three still floated, and Dickcongratulated himself that he had decided not to join his fate to thatof those on board. Hour after hour passed, and still the boys floatedon, until at last the sun went down, dusk came and went, and when allwas dark they turned on their faces and swam quietly down the stream.For many hours, alternately swimming and floating, they kept theircourse down the river, until toward morning they gently paddled ashore,crept into the thick jungle of the bank, and fell asleep almostinstantly.

  It was dusk again before they awoke. They were desperately hungry, butthey agreed to spend one more night in the river before searching forfood, so as to put as much distance as possible between themselves andCawnpore. They had been twenty hours in the water before, and allowingtwo miles an hour for the current, and something for their swimming,they calculated that Cawnpore must be forty-six or forty-seven milesbehind. Eight hours' more steady swimming added twenty to this, andthey landed again with a hope that Nana Sahib's ferocious bands musthave been left behind, and that they had now only the ordinary dangerof travel in such times, through a hostile country, to face.

  It yet wanted an hour or so of daybreak, and they struck off at rightangles to the river, and walked till it became light, when they entereda small wood near to which was a hut. Watching this close
ly, they sawonly an old man come out, and at once made to it, and asked him forfood and shelter. Recovered from his first surprise, he received themkindly, and gave them the best which his hut, in which he lived alonewith his wife, afforded. A meal of cakes and parched grain greatlyrevived them, and, after a long sleep, they started again at nightfall,with enough food for the next two days' supply. That they were notahead of all their foes was certain, from the fact that the peasantsaid that he had heard firing on the river bank on the previous day.They knew by this also that the one boat ahead of them had at any rateescaped its perils of the first day.

  For two more nights they walked, passing one day in a thick wood, theother in a ruined temple, their hopes rising; for, as they knew, thefurther they got from Cawnpore the loss likely the country people wereto be hostile.

  The third morning they again entered a hut to ask for food.

  "I will give you food," the peasant said, "but you had better go to therajah's, his house is over there, half an hour's walk. He has fourEnglishmen there who came from the river, and he is the friend of theFeringhees."

  Delighted at the news, the boys went forward. As they entered thecourtyard of the house they were greeted with a hearty salutation inEnglish, and their hands were clasped a moment afterward by LieutenantDelafosse, an officer who had greatly distinguished himself in thedefense of Cawnpore, and was one of the few survivors. He took them into the rajah, who received them most kindly, and after they had beenfed Lieutenant Delafosse told them how he and his three comrades hadescaped.

  The boat had, although many on board had been hit by rifle balls,escaped the first day. She was crowded, and very low in the water,having on board most of those who had been in the two boats sunk by theenemy. The next day they were again fired at without effect byartillery, infantry accompanying the boat all day, and keeping up anincessant fire. On the third day the boat was no longer serviceable,and grounded on a sand-bank. Then the enemy's infantry fired so heavilythat those still able to carry arms, fourteen in number, made for theshore and attacked their foes. These fell back, and the handful ofEnglishmen followed them. Great numbers of the enemy now came up, andthe English took refuge in a little temple; here they defendedthemselves till the enemy piled bushes at the entrance, and set them onfire. Then the English burst through the flames, and made again for theriver. Seven out of the twelve who got through the fire reached theriver, but of these two were shot before they had swum far. Three mileslower down, one of the survivors, an artilleryman, swimming on hisback, went too near the bank and was killed. Six miles lower down thefiring ceased, and soon afterward the four survivors were hailed bynatives, who shouted to them to come ashore, as their master, therajah, was friendly to the English. They did so, and were most kindlyreceived by him.

  An abundant meal and another good sleep did wonders for the youngWarreners, and the next morning they determined to set out to jointheir countrymen at Allahabad, where they expected to find their fatherand his troops. The rajah and their fellow-countrymen endeavored invain to dissuade them, but the former, finding that they weredetermined, gave them dresses as native women, furnished them with aguide, and sent them across the river in a boat--for they were on theOude side--with a message to a zemindar there to help them forward.