Battles usually consist of a melange of small engagements and the descriptions above mention one in which Lieutenant Bond was involved. For the most detailed account of Robert Shebbeare’s day we have his letter of 13 January 1858 (below) in which, with characteristic modesty, he devotes most space to a description of the death of his friend, Lieutenant A.W. Murray.
It is interesting that he gives no indication that the events at Kissengunge, for which he was awarded his Victoria Cross, were anything more than a normal day’s fighting, but this is unsurprising, perhaps, when one considers that he had been involved in almost daily engagements with the enemy for three months. It seems likely that had the VC been awarded posthumously at that time, his great friend Lieutenant Murray, and Sergeant Dunleary, might also have received it.
Lahore, January 13th, 1858
My dear Father,
I have this day (my Birthday) received yours of 23rd November and as a mail has been advertised to close today, I hasten to give you what information I can about poor young Murray’s death. He was with the Guides when I joined them, having been posted two or three days before. On the 23rd June we were ordered up from the right flank of the Hindoo Rao’s position to support the troops engaged on the outskirts of the Subzee Mundee. We went upon extended order and on arriving near the houses the Guides went in with a rush and a shout, the pipes and drummers playing with all their might and dancing frantically. Murray and I were together then and his whole conduct then as on every other occasion before the enemy was most admirable. His courage and coolness fitted him perfectly for the management of the Guides, who are a very wild set and cannot be kept in hand without a good deal of tact and judgement and moreover have the greatest respect for any one who shows pluck and daring courage. On that occasion we drove the enemy out of the whole of their position on the Hindoo Rao’s side of the Kurnaul Road and followed them across until we were recalled and ordered to confine ourselves to defending our own position and not to lose men by attacking them. I think it was as we were about to retire that poor young Murray received a bullet wound on the head, which however did not touch the skull tho’ it laid him up for some time. I can’t recollect whether it was the 9th or 10th of July [it was the 9th] that he and Bond were sent to hold the Sammy House (an old temple) which up to that time had not been strengthened in any way. The front wall of the yard even being broken down in many places and the gate only stopped up with branches. They held the place however with the greatest pluck, although completely surrounded at one time, and received the highest praise from Major Reid, Commandant at Hindoo Rao’s, for their defence. We lost a great many men that day and Murray was hit at the back of the right hand by a bullet, which again put him on the sick list and eventually obliged him to go up to Simla on Medical Certificate. He recovered his health and came down to be in time for the siege.
On the 14th September we were with Reid’s Column, the 4th, on the Kichengunge attack. Major Reid was shot in the head at the very commencement and the consequence was, that the Fusiliers, who led the attack, were not properly supported, as we in the rear had received no orders. However we, shortly afterwards, went up to the front and finding it impossible at the moment to advance in face of the terrible fire, from the front and flanking fire from both sides, we tried a garden wall which gave us some shelter. This position we held for some time. I tried to get the men to make another attack and jumped over the wall followed by Murray, McLean and Koodrutoola Subadar, with a sergeant called Dunleary of the 1st Fusiliers, two Riflemen and three or four Guides, but we were not supported and could do no good by advancing. I went back to call more men, while Murray with the others knelt behind a small bank. At this moment poor Murray was struck by a bullet in the middle of his chest and died in the spot. McLean said to him ‘where are you hit?’ and he put his hand on his chest but could not speak. His death was perfectly sudden. I did not know it at the time, for, seeing that the enemy annoyed our men very much by firing from a small temple to the right of our position, I went with some men to run them out. Shortly after we found the enemy coming round our flank to cut off our retreat and we withdrew towards our old position, as we could never have made good our attack on the guns in the face of the overwhelming force which had assembled against us. After we had retired I was grieved to find that poor Murray’s body had not been brought away. Captain Daly, however, sent Koodrutoola with some men and they managed to bring it in next morning. I buried him at once and afterwards Captain Daly, Sir Edward Campbell and I went and read the burial service over his grave. Believe me, my dear father, your most affectionate son, Robert H. Shebbeare.
Later a tomb was put up in his honour with the inscription:
Sacred to the memory of A.W. Murray, Lieutenant in the 42nd NLI, and attached during the siege of Delhi to the Corps of Guides, who fell while encouraging his men to follow his own brave example on 14th September, 1857. In admiration of his unvarying gallantry, his comrades in the Guides erect this tomb.
Kaye gives a rather different account of Alexander Murray’s death than that recorded by Robert Shebbeare in his letter.12
A party of the enemy sheltered by a breastwork were firing heavily upon our people, when some officers with a handful of men made a rush upon the work to take it. Foremost of these was young Murray of the Guides, who had been wounded in June and July, who had gone to the hills to recruit, and had returned to Delhi a few days before the assault. Speeding onwards with impulsive bravery, the grim message of death met him in the pride of his youth and the flush of his daring. He was shot through the chest and fell dead upon the field.
Most of the maps showing the salient features in the environs of Delhi at the time of the siege are rather general in nature, so of particular interest is Robert Shebbeare’s own freehand diagram, showing details of the serai at Kissengunge, and indicating the direction of the enemy fire. From this, together with his letters, we get a first-hand account of what actually happened at the serai. (Notice that Robert Shebbeare calls it a mosque, rather than a serai.)
The official citation in the London Gazette, 21 October 1859, read:
Shebbeare, Brevet-Captain Robert Haydon. Date of Act of Bravery: 14th September, 1857 (India). For distinguished gallantry at the head of the Guides with the 4th column of assault at Delhi, on the 14th September, 1857, when after twice charging beneath the wall of the loopholed serai, it was found impossible, owing to the murderous fire, to attain the breach. Captain (then Lieutenant) Shebbeare endeavoured to reorganize the men, but one-third of the Europeans having fallen, his efforts to do so failed. He then conducted the rearguard of the retreat across the canal most successfully. He was most miraculously preserved throughout the affair, but yet left the field with one bullet through his cheek and a bad scalp wound along the back of his head from another.
As one can see from the next letter, and several others, the carriage of correspondence was very unreliable and it would seem that a high proportion of letters and parcels went missing, so it is lucky that Robert Shebbeare duplicated some of the information about events at Delhi.
Camp Delhi, Lahore Gate. October 14, 1857
My dearest mother,
I am very much grieved to find from your letters that all mine have miscarried. By the first two mails after the Meerut Delhi outbreaks I sent five letters; three by the first mail by different routes and two by the second — By this means I thought I was making sure you would hear of my safety. Since then I have written a short note by every mail but one.
I had little time and less convenience for writing but I wrote each time to tell you that I was well and happy. You will also I fear have seen my name twice in the list of wounded, which would alarm you as you did not receive my letters.
I was wounded by three bullets on the 14th July and again by one on the 14th September but I am glad to say that I was not seriously hurt by any one of them. In addition to these wounds, two musket balls went through my hat; one while in the trenches at Hindoo Rao’s and the other in
Kichengunge on the 14th September. The first slightly grazed my scalp, giving me a severe headache and making me feel very sick. The second cut through a very thick turban and knocked me down on my face, but without doing me any injury. On the same day and shortly afterwards a ball hit me on the (right) jawbone but glanced off with no worse effect than making me bleed violently and giving me a very ‘mumpish’ appearance for some days.
I have indeed great reason to be thankful for my good fortune during the campaign. In the 1st place I joined the camp just at the right time; at the commencement of the business (it was not a siege until the 1st September) and was offered the post of 2nd in command of the Guide Corps, the finest regiment of Asiatics in India. This I of course at once accepted, being very much honoured by the offer. Daly the Commandant took command of the cavalry and I held that of the infantry until the end of July when I got command of the whole corps, Daly having been wounded in action and my friend Hodson, who held the command after him, having raised a regiment of his own. From this time until the capture of the city I commanded the regiment. In the meantime, as I was only acting in the Guides, Hodson got me appointed 2nd in command of his cavalry regiment. So that in the event of the other officers rejoining the Guides I had that appointment to fall back on. Now, to crown my luck and satisfy me that I did not make a failure of my command in the Guides, I was recommended by General Chamberlain to Major Coke as 2nd in command, Major Coke being on the point of starting for England and the command of his Regiment remaining with me during his absence.
I write all this to you, dear mother, as it happened because you will understand that I write it for your satisfaction and to prove to you that I have not neglected my duty and that my conduct has been favourably viewed by my superiors; but I write in this style to no one but my Father and yourself and I sincerely hope that you will not show the letter to any one but our own family circle. Any one else reading it would put me down as a braggart, a character which I despise. I was hit oftener during the campaign than any other officer I think, but was always so little hurt that my friends used to laugh and say that I was made of India Rubber!
I shall remain with the Guides until some officer returns to take command of them and then I shall go over to Meerut and join Coke’s Regiment. It is a rifle regiment composed principally of Pathans from the Peshawar district and Alfreedies, so I must begin the study of Pooshtoo (their language) at once. I have been fortunate as regards property, for I left almost all mine in Rohtuck, but I think the increased pay I have received has more than recompensed me and I may yet receive compensation from Government.
My future station will be Bunnoo or Koliat up near Peshawar I fancy; but it may be some time before the regiment goes back there.
I am going to send by this mail a coral necklace for Alice, or if coral is not fashionable as a necklace she will perhaps be able to make a bracelet of it. It is a piece of plunder from the city of Delhi though I did not ‘loot’ ie plunder it myself but obtained it by legitimate means. I hope Alice will like it and wear it for the sake of the brother she has never seen.
I have written a most horribly egotistical letter; but what can a soldier’s letter be after a fight if not egotistical? I must close now but will write every mail.
With love to all, believe me dearest mother your most affectionate son
Robert H. Shebbeare
PS. Tell the girls that I have a great ugly beard and dress myself like a ruffian for want of a razor and good clothes.
Being wounded, Robert Shebbeare did not take part in the actions inside the city after its recapture, where a good deal of ill-feeling was displayed towards the inhabitants.
Indeed, the mutiny was a very bad-tempered and bloody affair and there are well-recorded accounts of many atrocities committed by both sides. From Robert Shebbeare’s letters come little sense of the burning anger and desire to revenge the various massacres of British women and children that had taken place in the early stages of the revolt. This comes through from accounts given in many contemporary soldiers’ correspondence, and these feelings were echoed in many sections of the press at home. Kendal Coghill, adjutant of the 2nd European Bengal Fusiliers, who went through the Cashmere Bastion at the storming of Delhi, writing on the 18th September, 1857, said, inter alia:
I had the satisfaction of receiving the ‘King of Hindoostan’ over as a prisoner and immediately placed him safe with a double sentry over him. I could not help calling him a pig and other opprobrious epithets and asking him about our families. I would have shot him dead if he had only looked up, the brute — and gave the sentries orders, if he tried to stir, to drop him. Captain Hodson and Lieutenant Macdowell of my regiment, attached to Native Sikh Cavalry, went in pursuit of the princes and overtook them about 8 miles off. Hodson had only 100 men and they had 10,000 men, but, thinking he was an advanced guard, they gave up their arms (the 3 princes, the Band of Christian Drummers of 28th N.I., and the English sergeant-major of the 28th N.I. who was formerly an artillery man, and during the siege pointed the enemy’s guns on us, calling himself Sheikh Abdoolah and dressing like a sepoy). The band etc etc were killed on the spot but the 3 princes were brought with the sergeant-major to an open spot where the princes had commenced the slaughter and violation of our ladies themselves, and they were mercilessly killed and stripped and laid flat on the open ground till the dogs and jackals walked off with them. The sergeant-major is still in our Guard in irons and is going to be blown away from a gun in presence of the force.
Following the recapture of Delhi, Coghill went out to help clear the surrounding countryside.
4th October. ‘Since writing the above I’ve been going all over the country as part of a flying column. Our column is 1,600 men, two 9 pounders and two 18 pounders pulled by elephants. The marching is awful as we march straight across country where there are no roads, and we drop by surprise in the night on villages and towns that befriended the enemy, and kept them in supplies, and cut up our ladies and officers when they were obliged to halt, at the first commencement of the outburst. Our cavalry surrounds the towns and we walk in, turn the women and children out, sack the place and fire it. Any that try to escape the flames get cut up. Sometimes by forced marching we manage to get two villages in a night — we have three columns out flying and revenging and you see the wholesome funk we have established over the country ... We are rapidly clearing the country up here, and sending into the Prize Agents any amount of plunder. Plundering for ourselves is not allowed, but as everyone does it, I have succeeded in boning two handsome Cashmere shawls value about £80 or £90 each . . . take your pick when you get them and send the other to Lady North as a present from me for her kindness in getting me a position for life (and, I may say, a strong chance of death). Our Colonel (Showers) is Brigadier of this flying column: he has the pluck of the devil and his chief fun is dashing his own and other people’s heads against stone walls.
As we have seen from his own letters, Robert Shebbeare’s comments show no signs of the institutionalised contempt for the natives, and all things native, that seemed to have become endemic amongst the British. Indeed, his observations on the Indians with whom he came in contact are generally tinged with a mixture of affection, amusement and respect, and he seems always to be much concerned for their welfare. That such attitudes were not general can be seen from further comments made by Coghill in a letter to a sister dated 18 January 1858. His thoughts are quite representative of many writers at the time and it is possible that attitudes to native men were different amongst officers who served with European regiments, as did Coghill, from those who were in native ones, as were Seaton and Robert Shebbeare. At the outbreak of the Mutiny many commanding officers of the native regiments were incredulous at the idea that their own ‘babes’ and ‘children’ could possibly be plotting against them in their midst.
In case of accidents to the envelope, this is from K. Coghill, Adjutant, 2nd Bengal European Fusiliers, Delhi, to Mrs Tom Greene, Dublin:
My
darling Silly, (a beautiful name for any one who will marry) I have just returned from a wild goose chase in the district looking for that fabulous beast formerly known as the devoted Sepoy — but a pale-faced dog may now walk from one end of India to another, alone with a thick stick . . . The niggers are the most cringing grovelling brutes conceivable — whenever they pass a European now they bow to the ground, and if an officer passes they keep their heads well down on the ground and feel thankful for a kick rather than otherwise, as it shows they have been noticed. Believe me, this war has been a first rate thing for the country — they used to be so cocky and thought themselves as good as Englishmen, but now it is all up with them for ever, and there won’t be a chance of another war till we have to thrash the Sikhs who seem to think we can’t do without them — whereas we had to waste all our good officers to mix with them to show them the way to the front.
In the same letter Coghill gives some insight into what happened at the recapture of Delhi, and on the subject of prize money, touched on in this book in the Introduction to Chapter Two, he waxes incandescent:
Is it not a howling shame that we have been done out of our prize money. The General distinctly ordered that he trusted Englishmen would remember their honour and country, and spare the women and children — to avoid plundering and looting, and that he would appoint prize agents and let the army select them, and when all the prize was collected, it should be served out equally to the troops with the sanction of the Queen, and now that stingy white Sepoy, Lord Canning (mutiny) has sent an order to say that the money is to be restored to the poor native who has been more wronged than he has wronged us. It’s all very well for General Wilson to say he had his troops well in hand when he took the city, and so he had with one exception, which was that we were first told to kill every male in the place, which order we obeyed to perfection and were going on till the general came to the front and saw piles of dead and then he got soft-hearted and ordered the troops to desist from slaughtering. The only answer he got was a sort of silent growl that, ‘now was the time for soldiers to do the work they had waited three months for and if they gave in then, before it was completed, the civilians would have the whole thing their own way, and let the cowardly rebels have another chance at our women,’ and bang whack, they went on, the same as ever — every mussulman scoundrel was polished off till the General said the murder must cease and every native should be tried by military power, and then all hands quieted. The consequence is, not twenty men are hanged a day and there have come back into the city some 100,000 black brutes whom were the scum of Delhi, and the civilians say, ‘poor fellows, they could not help it’ . . . it is a shabby thing, to give a promise and then break it six months after it is given. Instead of prize money we are to have six months batta — which to a lieutenant is £70, whereas prize would be about £700, and to make it worse the niggers we ought to have killed are to get it instead of us — generosity!!!
Indian Mutiny and Beyond Page 10