Frightened, the military authorities immediately tried to suppress it by imprisoning the rebels, but that night, two regiments of sepoys, the 11th and the 12th Bengal Native Infantry, took arms and forced the release of the captives along with another twelve hundred prisoners.
That act of weakness proved fatal for that same night the sepoys and light horsemen attacked the European quarter of the city, setting fire to it and mercilessly slaughtering the wives and children of all European officers and officials.
The garrisons of Lucknow and Cawnpore rebelled simultaneously, executing their officers and murdering every European they could find, while the Rani of Jhansi, a beautiful and brave princess, raised her banner in rebellion after ordering the execution of the British garrison that had taken refuge in the Jhansi fort.
Taken by surprise, the military authorities had found themselves unable to quell that storm of violence. They could only establish a military cordon through Gwalior, Bhartapur, and Pattiallah, hoping to stand against the rebels that had gathered under the orders of Tantia Topi, the bravest and most talented of the Indian generals, a man who would later amaze the British with his famous retreat across the Bundelcund. Their efforts were only partially successful, for on the morning of the 11th, two hundred and fifty insurgents, their slaughter of Europeans complete, rushed towards Delhi, their ranks swelled by the sepoys of the 34th Bengal Native Infantry who had just executed its officers.
The Europeans who had survived the massacres of Meerut and Allighur had taken shelter there. Realizing they would soon be slaughtered, Lieutenant George Willoughby gathered them in the magazine where he organized a desperate resistance.
Attacked from all sides, that brave man, with an admirable sangfroid, set fire to the powder and blew up more than fifteen hundred insurgents. In the ensuing confusion, he conducted the women, children and the elderly to safety, dispatching them to Caruol, Amballah and Meerut, recently recaptured by the British.
It was then that the rebel regiment from Allighur reached Delhi, and quickly proclaimed the Holy City’s king their new Emperor, a proclamation celebrated with the massacre of fifty Europeans and their children who had taken shelter in the royal palace.
Furious battles raged against the first column of British soldiers to advance into rebel territory, with atrocities committed by both sides.
General Anson, the first commander-and-chief had died of cholera at the end of May. General Barnard had succeeded him and led the troops to Dehli, where the rebels were feverishly fortifying as they awaited the oncoming attack.
By the beginning of June, the city was under siege, but the British were unable to obtain a sizable victory and were forced to retreat several times before the rebels’ incessant sorties. What’s more, they were short of equipment and suffered greatly from the heat and harsh climate.
Nevertheless, the end was drawing near for the rebels; Delhi would soon fall in a sea of blood.
***
Sandokan and his friends, mounted on fast horses, had left the British outpost at Aligarh and were riding towards Delhi, now only a few hours journey.
Lieutenant de Lussac, having donned his uniform and obtained a letter of transit from the commander at Aligarh, led them behind the British cordon. His presence saved them precious time, sparing Sandokan and his men from lengthy interrogations.
The countryside was swarming with soldiers, horses, and artillery, all advancing towards the Grand Mughal’s ancient capital.
The long-awaited siege-train had finally arrived and was being directed towards the north of the city to destroy the strongest bastions which until then had tenaciously resisted all attacks.
Signs of the terrible insurgency were everywhere. Villages had been burned and razed to the ground; countless bodies lay dead in the fields. The smell of death hung in the air, drawing storms of marabou, buzzards, arghilah, kites and gypaeti in search of carrion. Four hours after they had left Aligarh, the band of men arrived within sight of the gates and towers of the Holy City.
Long columns of British soldiers were scattered about the countryside. A furious battle had been fought that morning, the besiegers had gotten the worst of it and mounds of corpses lined the main road.
The rebels had broken through the siege in several places and several bands of men were scouring the nearby countryside for whatever livestock they could find. It would not be difficult for men disguised as Indians to pass for rebels from Meerut or Furridabad and enter the city. The time had come to part ways.
“Lieutenant de Lussac,” said Sandokan, once they had ridden past the last British outpost, “when shall we meet again?”
“It depends on how quickly we can breach the walls,” replied the Frenchman, dismounting from his horse. “When that happens, I’ll lead my squadron into the city.”
“How long do you think this siege will last?”
“Now that the siege train has arrived, it won’t take them long to erect the batteries. The bastions should fall in a few days.”
“How can we get word to you?”
“I was thinking about that this morning,” said the Frenchman. “I’ll need to know where you’re staying if I’m to protect you. There’s undoubtedly going to be a mass slaughter when the British breach the walls; they’re all eager to avenge the women and children massacred in Cawnpore, Lucknow, Allighur and elsewhere and they’re in no mood to take prisoners.
“After a bit of consideration, I had an idea that I think will work. Every night, when you go to the Kashmir Bastion, throw something large concealing a letter onto the other side of the moat. I’ll have someone look for it. A turban for example, white if possible.”
“Very well,” said Sandokan.
“The letter of transit and the letter from the governor won’t suffice to protect us?” asked Yanez.
“Perhaps, but you never know what could happen in the heat of battle, it would be better if I were there to protect you. It’s getting dark, you should go. Goodbye, my brave friends. I hope you find your little girl. Safe journey.”
They embraced like old friends then as the Frenchman rode back to the British camp, Sandokan and his companions bravely set off towards the city.
Numerous horsemen were roaming about outside the walls, looting the cantonments the British had evacuated that morning. At the sight of that armed group approaching, a squadron of looters, led by a subedar[23], rode towards them and ordered them to stop. Tremal-Naik, who was now riding in the lead, was quick to obey.
“Where are you going?” asked the subedar.
“To Delhi,” replied the Bengali, “to fight for India’s freedom.”
“Where did you come from?”
“Meerut.”
“How did you get through the British lines?”
“We circled their camp this morning while you were engaged in battle.”
“Is it true they’ve received more cannons?”
“The siege-train arrived this morning.”
“Wretched dogs!” exclaimed the subedar. “That won’t be enough to defeat us! There are thousands of us in the city, all determined to fight to the death. We know our enemy well, the British claim to be civilized, but they won’t spare a soul if given the chance.”
“That’s true,” said Sandokan. “Will you allow us to enter the city? We wish to take part in the battle.”
“No one may pass through the Turcoman Gate until they’ve been interrogated by the commander. I do not doubt your loyalty, brothers; nevertheless, I have to obey my orders.”
“Who is in command?” asked Tremal-Naik.
“General Abu Hassam, a Muslim who has embraced our cause and given us indisputable proof of his valour and loyalty.”
“Where is he?”
“In the cantonment closest to the front line.”
“He’s probably asleep by now,” said Sandokan. “I wouldn’t like to spend the night in the open; we’re all quite tired and hungry.”
“I’ll give you food and shelter for the nigh
t. Come.”
The subedar signalled his men to fall in then set off at a trot, Sandokan and his companions following closely behind them.
“I hadn’t expected this,” murmured Tremal-Naik, turning to address the pirate. “What should we do?”
“We could scatter them with a vigorous attack,” replied Sandokan. “They may outnumber us four to one, but I doubt they’d put up much of a fight.”
“And then what? Do you think we can just enter the Holy City? We’re surrounded by rebels. Do you see that band of looters over there? They’d rush to attack us at the first sound of gunfire.”
“Their presence held me back,” replied Sandokan.
“We have nothing to fear, it’s just a few questions.”
“I don’t trust anyone. There could be a few Thugs lurking about. What if they recognize you?”
The Bengali shuddered.
“That would be disastrous,” he replied. “Bah! Our fears may be exaggerated.”
They arrived at a small battered hamlet at ten that evening. Numerous bonfires blazed along the streets, small bands of rugged men sitting about them, armed with pistols, jatagans[24] and talwars.
“Is this where the general lives?” Sandokan asked the subedar.
“Yes,” replied the officer.
He gestured for his escort to stand down and entered a small hut. Though the roof had been partially damaged several sepoys lay on the ground on mounds of dried leaves.
“Get up,” he said in a tone that brooked no argument. Once the soldiers had gone, he invited Sandokan and his companions to enter, apologizing for the poor accommodations but promising to have dinner sent to them immediately.
He ordered his escort to guard the hut then set off to find the general.
“Quite the palace,” said Yanez, smiling calmly as he took in his surroundings.
“I’d almost prefer to sleep outside,” said Sandokan.
“Bah, these quarters may not be ideal, but they’ll do for a night. Those leaves will make a fine bed; we’ll sleep well once we’ve filled our stomachs. I doubt we’ll get into Delhi before morning.”
“If we get in,” Sandokan replied grimly.
Yanez was about to reply when a soldier wearing a sepoy uniform came through the door, carrying a torch and a basket that appeared to contain their dinner.
At the sight of the Bengali he cried out in surprise.
“Mr. Tremal-Naik!”
“Bedar!” exclaimed the Bengali, advancing to meet him, “What are you doing here? I never would have expected to find one of Captain Macpherson’s sepoys among the rebels!”
The soldier shrugged and said, “The captain died long ago. My regiment joined the revolt and I went with them. And you, sir, what brings you here? Have you embraced our cause?”
“Kind of,” replied the Bengali.
“That’s a little vague, sir,” laughed the sepoy. “Whatever the reason, I’m happy to see you again, and I’ll be twice as happy if I can help you in any way.”
“Perhaps we can discuss that later.”
“Ah!”
“What is it?”
“I bet it has something to do with the Thugs.”
“Enough talk for now. What did you bring us, Bedar?”
“Dinner, sir, it’s a little thin, but there’s never much food during a siege. Some roasted antelope, some bread and some palm wine.”
“A fine meal, and very generous,” replied Tremal-Naik. “Set it down; please join us if you can spare the time.”
“It’s an honour I won’t refuse,” replied the sepoy.
He opened the basket and began to lay out their dinner, which though small, was more than enough to satisfy their hunger. Sandokan and Yanez, who had yet to utter a word, though pleased by that chance encounter, ate with relish, as did Tremal-Naik and the six Malays.
“My friends,” said the Bengali, “This is Bedar, one of Captain Macpherson’s bravest sepoys, one of the men who took part in the first expedition against Suyodhana and his Thugs. Bedar, this is Sandokan, Yanez and their men, the Tigers of Mompracem.”
“You were there when the captain died?” asked Sandokan.
“Yes, sir,” the sepoy replied, his voice filling with emotion. “He died in my arms.”
“Then you must have seen Suyodhana,” said Sandokan.
“His face is burned in my memory; he was only ten paces from me when he fired on my captain.”
“How did you escape? I thought the Thugs had killed all of the captain’s men.”
“Luck, sahib,” replied the sepoy. “I was struck in the back of the head by a talwar while I was trying to carry the captain from the field; he had just received two bullets in the chest. The blow was so strong I fell to the ground unconscious. When I came to, a deep silence reigned over the Sundarbans. I was surrounded by corpses. The Thugs had not spared anyone.
“All my companions had fallen, but they had sold their lives dearly, for no less than two hundred stranglers lay among the grass. Fortunately, my wound wasn’t serious. I stemmed the bleeding and began to search for the captain’s body. Unable to find it, I fled towards the river, hoping the gunboat that had brought us to the Sundarbans would still be there. Unfortunately, she’d been destroyed; the water was strewn with wreckage. After the sepoys had all been killed, Suyodhana had attacked the ship, set fire to her powder and blown her up.”
“A terrible tragedy,” said Sandokan.
The Bengali nodded sadly.
“Did any of her crew survive?” asked Yanez.
“No, sir, they had all rushed to assist us at the first sound of gunfire and were slaughtered by the Thugs.”
“There were a lot of those wretches then?” asked Sandokan.
“They outnumbered us twenty to one,” replied the sepoy. “I wandered about the jungle for two weeks, living off whatever fruit I could find, trying to avoid the snakes, tigers and gavials. I slowly made my way from island to island and finally reached the bay where I was rescued by a Bengali fishing boat.”
The room fell silent.
“Bedar,” said Tremal-Naik after several minutes had passed, “Have you seen Suyodhana since?”
“Never, sir.”
“We have it on good authority that he’s here in Delhi.”
The sepoy started.
“He’s here!” he exclaimed. “I know the Thugs have joined our cause. Large numbers of them have arrived from Bengal, the Bundelcund and Orissa, but I haven’t heard a word about the arrival of their leader.”
“We’ve come to find him,” said Tremal-Naik.
“For revenge? If that’s your intention, you can count on my assistance, Mr. Tremal-Naik,” said Bedar. “The captain was like a father to me; I’d like nothing more than to avenge his death and the death of my friends murdered in the Sundarbans.”
“Yes,” said the Bengali, not hiding his hatred. “I’ve come here to kill him and rescue my daughter; he kidnapped her several months ago.”
“He kidnapped your daughter!”
“We’ll tell you the full story later. I need to know if General Hassam will give us permission to enter Delhi.”
“It shouldn’t be a problem; no one could mistake you for British spies. Have you seen him?”
“Not yet, however, the subedar that brought us here is arranging for us to meet him.”
“Have you been here long?”
“An hour.”
“He hasn’t summoned you yet?”
“No.”
“That’s strange,” said the sepoy. “The general is usually quite prompt. I’ll pay the subedar a visit and try to find out what’s happened.”
He had just gotten up and was about to leave, when the subedar entered the hut accompanied by two Indians wearing large turbans, their faces veiled behind a cloth that concealed everything but their eyes.
“I was just going to look for you, subedar,” said the sepoy. “These men are growing impatient and had begun to wonder if they had been forgotten.”
“I came here to ask them to wait another fifteen minutes; the general is quite busy at the moment. You’ll escort them, Bedar.”
“Very well, sir,” replied the sepoy.
The subedar turned on his heel and left, the two men following close behind him without having once uttered a word.
“Who were those two Indians?” Sandokan asked the sepoy, who was watching their departure. “His assistants?”
“I’ve never seen them before,” replied Bedar. “They looked like Sikhs.”
“Why did they keep their faces hidden?”
“That was odd.”
“Are there many Sikhs in your camp?” asked Tremal-Naik.
“Not many. Most have joined the enemy.”
“Do you think you can defeat the British?”
“If every Indian had taken up arms, there wouldn’t be a single Englishman in all of India,” said the sepoy with a frown. “But they were afraid and left us to fight on our own; we’ll be made an example of, I’m sure those dogs will give us no quarter. Well, so be it! We’ll show them that Indians know how to die.”
When the fifteen minutes had passed, Bedar got up and said, “Follow me, gentlemen. General Hassam does not like to be kept waiting.”
As they left the hut a small troop of horsemen emerged from the shadows and followed them to the central square where General Hassam had set up his headquarters.
Rebels crowded the streets and rooftops, gathered about their bonfires, their weapons within arm’s reach, ready to spring into action at the first call to battle.
Men had flocked from all over: Orissan and Maratha warriors, bearded Sikhs armed with rifles and heavy scimitars, Bundelcundi sent from General Tantia Topi and the Rani of Jhansi, and thousands of sepoys from Meerut, Cawnpore, Allighur, and Lucknow still dressed in their uniforms.
It appeared as if they were expecting an attack, for all the horses were bridled and saddled.
With Bedar riding in front and the horsemen bringing up the rear, the small band of men soon reached a large square filled with rebels, lit by enormous mounds of burning wood.
Sandokan: The Two Tigers (The Sandokan Series Book 4) Page 23