The Last Mughal

by William Dalrymple

  Moreover, for the first time the jihadis were able to get close enough to put their axes to work: Imdad Ali Khan, one of Bakht Khan’s jihadis, was said to have displayed particular bravery, ‘and although surrounded, managed to escape with considerable difficulty’.107 Among those who accompanied him at this time were ‘Moulvee Nawazish Ali with his 2,000 men’ and a newly arrived regiment of ‘suicide ghazis’ from Gwalior, who had vowed never to eat again and to fight until they met death at the hands of the kafirs, ‘for those who have come to die have no need for food’.108

  One other rebel who distinguished himself at this time was Sergeant Gordon, the English convert to Islam who had been brought by the sepoys from Shahjahanpur. According to Sa’id Mubarak Shah, Gordon ‘laid and fired the guns against the English batteries. The shot struck fair and true and so delighted the sepoys that they presented nazrs to the sergeant, who replied ‘it is too late, I can do nothing now. If you had acted on my advice at the commencement, the British batteries could not have advanced a foot. Now that matters are hopeless you want me to stop their further progress. It is impossible, but I will die along with you.’109

  Maulvi Sarfaraz Ali, the imam of the mujahedin, went to the court on 10 September, and said how grateful the jihadis were that at long last their ‘valour and dedication’ were being recognised, and that they were looking forward to participating in the coming battle with more vigour than ever.110 According to the estimates of Hervey Greathed, owing to the number of sepoy desertions that had taken place in August, the proportion of jihadis had risen dramatically and they now numbered just under half the remaining rebel army: of the total estimated insurgent army remaining in Delhi of around 60,000 men as many as 25,000 were jihadis.*111

  Mirza Mughal sent the town criers round the streets calling on the ordinary citizens to come and join the defence. The same call went up from the jihadis, who began touring the Delhi streets calling out, ‘“Citizens, citizens, all who would be martyrs for the faith come follow us …” They collected in great numbers, prepared for action and took the most solemn oath that they would go out and fight and if necessary die, but would never retreat.”112 On 10 September, other orders were sent to the different subahdars to rally together for the last battle: ‘His Lordship the Emperor has passed an order,’ wrote Mirza Mughal,

  reminding the Hindus and Muslims that, for the sake of the cow and [against the defilement by] the pig, and abiding by religion and faith, if you want to make progress and earn merit in this life, then let us see whether you can prepare your infantry, cavalry and artillery and reach Kashmiri gate to attack our debased and unworthy opponents, the villainous kafirs. Let there be no delay in this. Act in accordance with his Lordship’s orders. Act promptly. Now that you have fought on the grounds of religion and faith you should remain constant on that. Every officer should form sections of his platoon and cavalry and after arranging them should inform them of the order, and prepare for the attack. Should anybody, officer or sepoy, make any excuses please immediately send a report about them before His Lordship.”113

  On 11 September, the British began co-ordinating the firing of all their guns, so that the shot struck the walls simultaneously in great deafening salvoes. By midday, the city walls were finally beginning to crumble, ‘sending up clouds of dust, and bringing the masonry down into the ditch’.114 The guns on Kashmiri Gate were soon silent, and two large breaches opened in the curtain walls, one near the Kashmiri Bastion, the other near the Yamuna river front, at the Water Bastion. Yet despite their hunger, the rebels fought now with a vigour that they had never shown before, sending out squadrons of cavalry from the gates to harass the coolies, engineers and gunners; in a few days, British casualties topped the 400 mark.

  ‘Though their batteries on the bastions had been well nigh silenced,’ noticed Charles Griffiths, ‘the rebels stuck well to their field guns in the open space before the walls; they sent a storm of rockets from one of the Martello Towers and fired a stream of musketry from the ramparts and advanced trenches.’115 Several of the British batteries caught fire and were ‘left a smouldering heap of sandbags, fascines and gabions’.116 Even Edward Vibart had to admit that ‘the mutineers fight with an obstinancy not to be conceived, though the bastions are a heap of ruins, yet they still return our fire and their numbers are so great that day after day they come out and attack us on all sides. They will never be driven from the walls until the bayonet is brought into play’.117

  By Sunday, 13 September, it was clear that the assault was imminent, and most guessed it would take place the following morning.

  The British troops spent the day practising escalading with siege ladders. They also voted on who among them would become prize agents, in charge of the legalised looting of the captured city: to his own surprise, Edward Campbell received the most votes. He heard of his appointment at the new front line in the old Mughal Garden of Qudsia Bagh, opposite the Kashmiri Gate, to which he had been moved from Hindu Rao’s House five days earlier.

  At a meeting of the senior commanders at eleven that morning, General Wilson announced that it would be Nicholson who would lead the attack, which was provisionally set for sunrise the following morning. There were to be four columns, each directed to enter the city through a different opening on the northern face of the walls, and to head to a different goal; a fifth column was to act as reserve; to his disgust, Edward Vibart found that he was assigned to this, and so would not take part in the assault. Theo Metcalfe, meanwhile, was to guide the column that aimed to enter the city through the Kashmiri Gate and capture the Jama Masjid, which would then be used as a base for assaulting the Palace.

  For most, the evening was spent writing wills and last letters. ‘I believe we are to escalade,’ wrote one young officer to his anxious mother.

  You know what that will be – rush up a ladder, with men trying to push you down, bayonet and shoot you from above. But you must wave your sword and think it capital fun, bring your men up as fast as you can and jump down on top of men ready with fixed bayonets to receive you. All this is not very pleasant to think coolly of, but when the moment comes excitement makes you feel as happy as possible … I hope it won’t make me swear, though that is almost allowable for you are mad with excitement, and know not what you are saying. But I will strive against it with all my might.118

  Edward Campbell attended the last church service that Padre Rotton was to conduct on the Ridge, as he celebrated the Eucharist – ‘a deeply solemn and impressive occasion’ – and preached on the text, ‘I am ready to be offered’, from the letter of St Paul to Timothy. But it was the Old Testament reading, foretelling the doom of ‘the bloody city’ of Nineveh, ‘full of lies and robbery’, which really appealed to Rotton, and which he spoke about at greatest length: ‘Draw thee waters for the siege, fortify thy strongholds,’ he read from the Book of Nahum. ‘Then shall the fire devour thee; the sword shall cut thee off; it shall eat thee up like the canker worm … There is a multitude of slain, and a great number of carcasses … They shall stumble upon their corpses.’119

  Within the city, preparations for resisting the assault were also almost complete. Bakht Khan was busy finalising the defences in the area around the Kabul Gate that he was to command, building barricades and sandbag emplacements. That morning, he sent to his old rival Mirza Mughal, with whom he seems to have patched up a modus vivendi, asking for 200 coolies, wooden planks, baskets and gunny bags to be sent to him. Everything he asked for was promptly sent.120 Mirza Mughal, meanwhile, was issuing a last order for the population of the town to resist the assault with every weapon they could find. He also supervised clearing the two muhallas nearest the breaches, and sending the inhabitants to safety in other parts of the city.121

  In the Red Fort, Zafar made a point of continuing with his ceremonial duties as if nothing unusual was happening – in this case conferring the title of Safir ud-Dowlah on an ambassador come to offer the fealty of the Court of Lucknow. But in private he feared the worst: �
��The King became greatly depressed when he heard that the guns on the city walls had been silenced,’ wrote Sa’id Mubarak Shah, ‘and taking up a Koran opened it to see what it would declare. The first passage his eye fell on was to the following effect: “Neither you nor your army, but those who were before.” The old King remained silent, but Hakim Ahsanullah Khan tried to persuade him that it really meant that he would conquer in the strife.’ Zafar suspected otherwise.122

  Zinat Mahal, meanwhile, was at the other side of the city in her haveli in Lal Kuan, deep in last-minute negotiations with the British through Hodson’s intelligence chief, Maulvi Rajab Ali. Ever since 4 August, Zafar’s queen had been in regular touch with the British, putting out feelers and hoping to be able to come to terms in return for certain conditions being met. Hodson had regularly relayed developments to Sir Robert Montgomery, Lawrence’s Chief of Intelligence in Lahore, reporting that Zinat Mahal ‘was intriguing with British spies’, was ‘firmly pro-British’ and had ‘offered her assistance in the taking of the city’ and even in ‘blowing up the Bridge of Boats’.123

  On 25 August, the day Nicholson had set off in pursuit of Bakht Khan, she had sent an emissary to Greathed, ‘offering to exercise her influence with the King’; but Greathed had politely replied that while ‘we wished her personally all happiness, and had no quarrel with women and children’, he was not authorised to ‘hold communication with anyone belonging to the Palace’.124

  Never one to take no for an answer, Zinat Mahal now hoped she might be able to get farther by directing her communications towards Hodson. It was a shrewd move, for Hodson loved intrigue, and – though he had no authorisation – reopened communications, apparently on his own authority. On 9 September Zinat Mahal had asked for another meeting with Maulvi Rajab Ali at her haveli in Lal Kuan. By the 13th, even as her hand was weakening by the minute as the British assault drew closer and closer, she was still holding out for her old dream, the same objective for which she had worked so tirelessly for so many years. As Hodson put it in his report, Zinat Mahal demanded in return for her assistance

  that her son should be pronounced heir apparent and the succession of the throne guaranteed to him, while on the part of the King that it was demanded that his position should continue undiminished, and the arrears for the five months subsequent to the outbreak in May paid up at once.

  It was with considerable difficulty that I succeeded in awakening her to the real position in which the King was placed, and the utter impossibility of either the King, or any of this family, being ever restored to the throne they had forfeited. When at length she comprehended that not only the liberty, but also that the lives of the King and his son were at stake, I succeeded in enlisting Zeenut Mahal in the cause, by guaranteeing the lives of her son and father. On this condition alone would she consent to use her influence with the King.125

  While these secret negotiations were going on in Lal Kuan, Maulvi Muhammad Baqar, meanwhile, published what he strongly suspected would be the last ever issue of the Dihli Urdu Akbhar. The melancholy yet resigned editorial was about repentance, and not trying to understand the mysterious ways of God: ‘You should not lose heart,’ he advised, ‘but instead draw faith and fortify your belief in the Almighty.’

  Although the Kafirs are advancing towards us and dig a new front almost every night, the important thing is to admire the spirit and bravery of our victorious army, and to observe that they try to assault the Kafir positions day and night. If the Almighty is placing this impediment in our path there must be some design in it: who knows what act of arrogance or injustice we may have unknowingly committed that has caused it? We should pray to God for forgiveness and enlightenment, and we should make it a point to refrain from committing any excesses on fellow human beings, or exploiting and injuring them in any way.

  It is said that the people in the city, especially the poor, are in dire straits. It is necessary at a time like this to provide relief and succour to the toiling masses so that they pray with sincerity of heart for the final victory of the Emperor’s government. Remember that when the time is ripe and when he wishes it so, the Almighty will instantly bring us victory. Who knows what kind of travail and examination he wishes to subject us to, that he delays our victory so? Only He knows the unknown. The discerning and wise ones wait for his favour.126

  That evening, up on the Ridge, Robert Tytler made Harriet promise that if things went badly the following morning she would take the bullock cart with the children, and head off in good time to Ambala. ‘He would have to remain with his treasure till a general rout took place,’ wrote Harriet. ‘It would have been about the worst spot in camp to remain alive, as the enemy would have made a rush to seize all the rupees they could … [But] if there was a reverse, I don’t believe anyone could possibly have reached a place of safety. Simla would have gone, Kussowlie would have gone, and all India would have risen in arms by one consent.’ Nevertheless, Robert got ‘our bullocks in readiness to make a start’, just in case.127

  Most of the British retired early. ‘There was not much sleep that night in our camp,’ wrote Richard Barter. ‘I dropped off now and then, but never for long, and when I woke I could see there was a light in more than one of the officers’ tents, and talking was going on in a low tone amongst the men, the snapping of a lock or the springing of a ramrod sounding far in the still air, telling of preparation for the approaching strife.’128

  Edward Campbell was also unable to sleep, and instead wrote what he realised might be his last letter to GG, commending himself and his family to the Almighty: ‘without our God we can do nothing’, he scribbled in his tent.

  My precious wife, remember that we are in His hands, who has been so merciful and forbearing to us hitherto. Put your trust in thy Lord who shall yet be our salvation. I feel more and more how important it is to seek comfort in him, who alone can give true peace … The alarm has just sounded so I must give up writing and get into my harness. May God watch over thee my darling wife, and keep us both and all dear to us.129

  At midnight, the troops rose, and began to assemble in their different columns. By the light of lanterns, General Wilson’s orders were read out to them. Each man was to carry 200 rounds of ammunition, and the goal of each column was outlined, as well as the route they were to take. The wounded were to be left where they fell. There was to be no plundering; all the valuables in the city would be placed in a common treasury under Edward Campbell’s supervision. No prisoners were to be taken; but ‘for the sake of humanity and the honour of the country’, women and children were not to be hurt.

  At 3 a.m., the four assault columns marched first to the Flagstaff Tower and then down in silence from the Ridge, using Zafar’s fruit trees in the once lovely Mughal garden of Qudsia Bagh as cover. All this time the siege artillery and breaching batteries had been firing as rapidly as they had been for the last ten days and, according to Barter, ‘the darkness before day was illuminated by constant flashes, while the air seemed alive with shells’.130

  This went on for half an hour, until, as dawn broke over the horizon, the guns all fell suddenly silent together. For a second in the stillness the soldiers could hear ‘small birds twittering among the trees’ and smell the perfume of the orange blossom and Zafar’s roses, both still ‘apparent in spite of the sulphury smell of powder’.131

  Then Nicholson gave the order, and after three months, the British finally advanced on the walls of Delhi.

  10

  TO SHOOT EVERY SOUL

  The assault on the city started exactly as planned. On the command, the officers leading each column gave the signal, there was a cheer, and the troops ran as fast as they could from the wooded shelter of Qudsia Bagh, through a rose garden, and out into the 50 yards of no-man’s-land between the garden and the city walls. Here they were immediately met with ‘a perfect hailstorm of bullets’ from the ready and waiting sepoys.1

  The first obstacle was the ditch, 20 feet deep by 25 broad. As the ladders were fe
tched and put into place the troops caught at the crest of the glacis, unable to get down, ‘fell fast under the withering fire’. It was nearly ten minutes before the first troops had succeeded in rising out of the far side of the glacis alive; but once they had climbed to the breach, the momentum became hard to stop.2 ‘Up our men went, beautifully, like a pack of hounds,’ wrote Fred Roberts to his mother. ‘We gunners had done our work so well that the Breach was perfect and we gained the ramparts with comparatively slight loss.’3

  It seemed much less smooth if, like Richard Barter, you were the first up. As he ran forward, Barter remembered seeing the heads of the defenders rising from the gap in the ramparts, ‘while along the walls they swarmed thick like bees. The sun shone full upon the white turbans and black faces, sparkling brightly on their swords and bayonets, and our men cheered madly as they reached the breach’.

  The enemy whose fire had slackened when ours ceased, at first seemed perfectly taken aback at our appearance, but recovering from their surprise, they now recommenced in earnest: round shot came screaming from the guns far to our right, while grape and shells whistled from those nearer, and the walls seemed a line of fire along our front. Bullets whistled in the air, tore up the ground about our feet, and men fell fast …

  Three times the ladder party was swept away, and three times were the ladders snatched from the dead and wounded … It was hard work getting up the breach, which was like a sloping bank of sea sand from the pounding of the shot. Behind it were some gabions, between which the enemy kept up a smart fire, so close to us that I could feel the flash of each discharge hot on my cheek. To spoil their aim, I kept firing my revolver with my right hand, while I scrambled up [the ladder] with my left, holding my sword under my arm as best I could, for we carried no scabbards. They kept heaving huge blocks of masonry at us, and tried to roll some down …