The property in the fort of Dhamoony was literally nothing. The whole
consisted of some five or six small guns, principally iron, and a
considerable quantity of grain; the produce of which, as well as what
was found in other forts taken during the campaign, was thrown into the
general fund. Here, for a time, a small detachment was left; but they
soon became so sickly, and died so fast, that we were obliged to
dismantle the place, and leave it to the ravages of time.
The poor keeledar was alone detained and held responsible for the
rebellion of his garrison. He was punished in a most exemplary manner by
our government, by being placed on eight rupees per diem, as a prisoner;
quite as much, I should imagine, as he got in a whole month as keeledar
of the fort of Dhamoony. The unbounded liberality of the East India
Company is quite unknown in England, and, indeed, in the more remote
parts even of Hindostan. Their munificence is proverbial among the whole
of the native powers with whom they have ever been concerned. Their
extreme liberality, and their good faith in all treaties, which has
never been tarnished, establish them in India on a rock which no power
can shake. Whatever treaty, whether commercial or political, is entered
into by them, it is as sure as that the sun will rise and the moon will
shine, that its terms will be strictly fulfilled. Whatever may be the
loss of such a treaty or bargain, its stipulations are adhered to to
the very letter. These are principles that have established the
Company's possessions in India on the firmest basis; and, aided by Old
England, she may now defy the combined power of all Europe. Her native
troops are good soldiers, and loyal and faithful subjects; but they
certainly require a little humouring. There are certain indulgences
which must be granted to them: the free exercise of their religious
rites; certain comforts, such as additional clothing, &c., during the
several seasons of the year; and by no means to attempt to induce them
to wear anything that is objected to by their several castes. However
absurd their habits may appear to a person unacquainted with Indian
affairs, they must be, to some extent, sanctioned. I am speaking, of
course, of things reasonable. I do not mean to say that, if a Hindoo
priest fancied himself a greater man than the bishop of Calcutta, his
lordship should resign his office in his favour; but simply that they
should be indulged in every way not inconsistent with prudence and
justice. I am persuaded that two or three millions of native troops
could, in the course of one year, be organized and fit for the field;
and I do not hesitate to affirm that, when headed by brave European
officers, and encouraged by the example of British gallantry, they would
be found equal to any troops in the world. I speak this from my own
experience in India, and from being constantly engaged on active service
with these troops. The Company have ever been justly conscious of the
importance of attending to the different sects of men admitted as
soldiers, selecting those of the higher class of Hindoos for their
infantry, and of the Mahometan castes for their cavalry. Whenever men of
inferior caste have crept in, little rebellions have been traced to that
source. I do not mean to say, that men of an inferior caste are not
equally brave soldiers; but I do maintain, the higher the caste or sect
of the native, the more he may be trusted, and the more likely he will
be to prove himself a faithful subject, as well as a good soldier.
Our division was now directed to proceed against another fort of the
Nagpore rajah's, called Gurrah Mundellah, to which we had to march some
two or three hundred miles, over hill and dale, cutting down mountains
and filling up rivers. Our march was, therefore, of course very tedious.
The government political agent, Major O'Brien, joined us at Jubblepore,
and we proceeded slowly towards the place of our destination. In some
parts of this country we were obliged to cut nearly our whole day's
march through underwood and ravines; and, in some places, such was the
impossibility of ascent over many of the hills, that it took a whole day
to cut a road so as to accomplish the next day's march through this wild
and desolate country; but some of the views in the openings were truly
splendid and beautiful. Everything that could please the eye or delight
the senses was to be found in this spot—the haunt of beasts of prey.
One of these little valleys reminded me of a scene in the "Arabian
Nights' Entertainments;" it was indeed a fairy land, to describe which I
am quite incompetent.
In this valley I arose about the hour of midnight, to view the
enchanting scene. The moon was of unclouded brightness, and far on its
western journey. Close beneath my tent was a clear and sweetly murmuring
stream, in which the moon dipped its silver wings, and its brilliant
rays shed so clear a light through the trees that I could see every
white tent around. Their inmates were all slumbering, lulled by the
gentle moaning of the lofty pine. Hushed was every tongue, calm was
every bosom, save those of one solitary mendicant priest at his midnight
prostrations. His little tinkling bell disturbed the serenity of the
night, and grated on my ear with discordance.
In three days more, after most tedious marches, we began to inhale the
same atmosphere as our enemy, and we were obliged to approach the
several ghauts with caution. The country that surrounded the large town
and fort against which we were advancing was terrifically wild; and, in
some parts, deep-sunk dells and excavations in the earth told us that
caution alone would insure success. In this fort, we had been given to
understand, a considerable body of the flying Pindarees had been
enlisted, to assist in defending the fort against the English, their
hated enemies. These we were resolved to make an example of;
consequently, a strict investment of the fort was our primary object, to
prevent their escape. For this purpose, Brigadier-General Watson, C.B.,
was dispatched with the cavalry and some few infantry. I accompanied
this party, and we commenced our march in the afternoon, working our way
through rivers, jungles, and over immense hills. A little after dark, on
passing a small hill a little on our left flank, two shots were fired at
us. The general dispatched a company of infantry to reconnoitre the spot
from whence the shots had proceeded. On examination, it proved to be a
small look-out of the enemy. We found several small cots or bedsteads
here, and their fires were still burning; but, after firing their two
shots, they must have immediately fled; and we were extremely obliged to
them for their hint, which reminded us of the necessity for caution.
We had gained information from our spies, that our road lay over a high
ghaut, on which the enemy had a strong piquet; that, when we had
surmounted that ghaut, the road to the fort of Gurrah Mundellah was over
lowlands interspersed with water; and that we should have to cross the
Nerbuddah, where we might expect to be opposed, as that river was wide,
deep, and stony. Acting upon this information, our brave brigadier
accompanied a small party, for the purpose of dislodging this piquet,
without giving them a shot at the whole division. We were a long time
ascending; so that, by the time we got up, the residue of the army were
at the bottom. The enemy heard them by the neighing of the horses and
the confounded clatter of our dragoons' swords, which may be heard for
miles. It would be much more musical if they would tie bells round the
horses' necks, than to tolerate this abominable noise. The moment the
piquet heard them, they fired, their long ginjalls, which kill a mile
off. The first shot wounded a poor grass-cutter of the 8th Native
Cavalry through the leg. At this time our detachment, which was stealing
up the side of the hill, was so close upon the enemy, that they had not
time to fire many more shots. They then ran off, leaving eight or ten of
their ginjalls suspended from branches of trees. At this place were ten
or twelve fires, and about twenty cots. Some of their rice was cooking;
but, for fear they might have poisoned it, we broke the utensils. The
ginjalls we also broke, not being able to carry them with us. We then
descended the hill; when the moon rose, and diffused her bright rays
over the distant plain. The sight was enchanting, in comparison with
prowling about in the pitchy darkness of the night, not knowing the
moment we might be saluted with a pound ball from one of their long
ginjalls. The corn-fields, the crops of which were then in a state of
maturity, looked silvery bright, and it was a great relief to the eye
that had been intensely watching in dreary darkness. Lighted torches, or
fires, could be seen on the distant hills, and those in the intermediate
space were, no doubt, indications to the fort, of our approach.
We halted on the banks of a sweet crystal brook, and drank of its
renovating stream. In about an hour we resumed our march on a tolerably
good road, but crossed by little rippling rills almost every half-mile,
which kept our feet continually damp and cold. We passed through many
rice-fields, and the country seemed fertile and cheerful, but not a man,
or even a solitary hut, could we discover. We at last saw a light,
apparently about a mile ahead of us. As we advanced, the light still
appeared in the same situation. Sometimes we imagined that it was borne
by some of the flying enemy, who had good reasons for keeping that
distance ahead of us; but we soon discovered the fallacious light to be
nothing more than the ignis fatuus on its midnight rambles. Shortly
afterwards we came to a small village, consisting of about twenty huts;
but nothing was to be found here except a few Pariah dogs, and some
wandering cattle. Here we halted for the night, and handed round
biscuits and grog to those who had not had the precaution to provide
themselves with some refreshment. On similar occasions I had formerly
been negligent, and had often suffered the pangs of hunger through my
own neglect; but this evening, foreseeing, from the nature of the
country, that our supplies could not reach us, I had provided myself
with a whole bottle of brandy and a considerable quantity of biscuit,
which went freely round. The morning was very chilly, and we had no
covering; but, notwithstanding this, the weary bodies of the men soon
sank to sleep. My favourite mare had a blanket, which I would not
deprive her of, as she would not drink brandy. Her portion of biscuit
she had. When I awoke, what was my astonishment to see my groom wrapped
up in my mare's blanket, and snoring like a pig, while the poor mare
stood shrivelled up, and looking almost frozen to death. At this piece
of consummate impudence on the part of the groom, I lost my temper,
which nothing could restore but the satisfaction of giving the fellow a
good horsewhipping. Besides this, I made him forfeit one rupee of his
pay to purchase sweetmeats for the mare, to which she was exceedingly
partial. I made the groom feed her himself with this remunerative
luxury, and, to give the poor fellow his due, he did it good-naturedly
enough.
Soon after daybreak we again got on our way, but found that we were a
much greater distance from the fort than we had been led by our spies to
suppose. We now marched in full preparation to meet the enemy, assured
that they would not lose the fair opportunity of stopping our progress,
which was now afforded them. On our arrival at the spot where we
expected to meet with resistance, to view the wide roaring river, the
Nerbuddah, majestically rolling over its rocky bed, would alone have
been sufficient to stop the progress of soldiers less inured to
difficulties than we were. Had that river been defended, the forcing of
the passage would have cost us dearly in lives. The banks on the
opposite side were bold and abrupt; and the only accessible part for
wheel-carriages was a roadway that had been excavated from the sides of
the river. Had this ford been defended, or the road stopped, our passage
would have been attended with immense difficulty and danger; but we did
not see a single man, and we could form no other conclusion from such
apparent indifference to so advantageous a position, than that they had
occupied, and were resolved to defend, some place which they deemed more
suitable to their purpose. About a mile farther, we saw some unarmed
stragglers on the edge or margin of a wood, peeping at us. I rode after
one of this party, whom, when I came up, I found to be a woman. She
immediately threw herself on her knees, and begged for mercy, saying she
was a poor villager. When she saw that I had not the remotest intention
of injuring her, she afforded me every information I required; stating
that all the soldiers were in the fort and town, and that, until we got
there, we should fall in with none but poor and inoffensive people, who
were leaving the fort for their native homes. With a large party of this
kind we fell in, almost immediately afterwards. They were armed, and
drawn up in battle array; and nothing but the appearance of women and
children among them would have prevented our advance from firing on
them. From the fortunate circumstance that the poor woman with whom I
had fallen in, had informed me that some of the people that did not wish
to serve the rebel rajah had left the fort, the whole of this party was
permitted to pass without molestation, with commendations on their faith
to the British government. They departed, and we proceeded towards the
fort.
About a mile further on, from an eminence we could distinctly see the
town, with its thick and high walls, inside of which was a strong-built
stone fort. With a glass we could see people on the walls and bastions
in great numbers, and guns peeping from the embrasures, of enormous
size. When we were in complete view, they indulged us with a few
sixty-four pounders; so that we were obliged to give them a much wider
field. One of our guides stated that he had been in the fort, as a
mendicant priest, and we had no reason to question his veracity. He
produced a long sketch of the fortifications, strength, number of
troops, &c., that induced some timid ones to make their last wills, and
even impressed the more resolute with the idea that they had not a light
job before them. Guns were new-flinted, pistols reloaded, swords
fresh-pointed, and preparations were busily making on all sides, while
searching for a place called the Home Doongra, which was an eminence
that looked into the fort, at a distance of about two miles from their
centre bastion, and near which we intended to encamp. Whenever the enemy
saw our men collected on this height, they saluted us with long shots
from a gun of enormous size. Several smaller ones were also thrown, and
some of them were well directed. This is easily accounted for. I have
frequently found that, wherever there was good cannonading, the
golundauze gunners had been taught in the Company's army. I have no
doubt that many of our native gunners enter the Company's service in
those situations, as a preparatory step to entering the service of a
native prince or rajah in the same capacity. The gunners are the only
class of men in the service of these rajahs that are regularly paid. In
the Company's army, a sepoy, or other servant, can always leave, by
expressing his disinclination to continue in the service; and this great
indulgence is very often taken advantage of by well-drilled men, who
have been taught all the minutiæ of military evolutions, and are
probably proficients in gunnery. It is not an uncommon thing in native
armies, for persons of this description to get fifty or sixty rupees
per month, when other soldiers are glad to get four. In this fort were
three or four men, who had, in the manner I have described, acquired a
complete knowledge of gunnery, and were good shots. These men are so
highly extolled among their caste, that they will madly throw themselves
upon the bayonet, rather than desert the gun which they command. Two of
the golundauze in this fort were killed during the siege; the other
returned to his home, which was Allahabad.
This fort of the Nagpore rajah had rebelled. The rajah himself had
violated his treaty, and broken off his alliance with the Company. The
inhabitants of this fortress, a short period before we encamped before
it, had been summoned to evince their loyalty to the Company, to which
they readily consented. For this purpose, a small force consisting of
one regiment of Native Infantry, and some part of the 8th regiment of
Bengal Native Cavalry, under the command of Major O'Brien, of the latter
corps (then political agent for the arrangement of the country belonging
to the rebel and treacherous rajah of Nagpore), marched to occupy the
fort of Mundellah, which the governor had consented to give up. As soon,
however, as the garrison saw the detachment (a mere handful of men)
under the major, within gunshot of the fort, they fired on the party,
who were, of course, obliged to make a precipitate retreat.
Before this affair of Major O'Brien's, the moment the treacherous
intentions of the rajah had been detected, the British resident of
Nagpore ordered his person to be seized. For this purpose, Captain
Brown, of the Bengal Native Infantry, was dispatched, with troops, to
seize him. On the approach of this force, the rajah flew to his zenanah,
and sought protection amongst his concubines. At any other time, and
under any other circumstances, respect would have been shown to this
sanctum of illicit pleasure; but, under the present circumstances of
the case, delicacy was quite out of the question, and the party rushed
in and seized him. The women in the zenanah, in their impotent rage,
flew at Captain Brown, who came off minus a considerable quantity of
skin from his face, of some hair from his head and whiskers, and of one
wing of his military full-dress coat; but he succeeded in securing his
man, and dragging him from his screaming women. The rajah, being now a
prisoner, was, a short time after this, sent under a strong escort
towards the frontiers of our provinces, under the special charge of
Captain Brown; but he escaped from him in the following extraordinary
manner. I believe he was not disgraced by having his person fettered, or
divested of its treasures; but he was permitted to be at large in his
tent. His seemingly placid and penitential manner lulled his captors
into the belief that he bitterly lamented his former treachery; but, had
their vigilance been ever so exemplary, his escape would have been
accomplished, for a conspiracy was formed—no doubt with a view to
gain—by some sepoys of his guard, and of those forming his escort, to
facilitate his escape under cover of the night. The conspirators so
managed, as to get on sentry at the same time, or relieve each other;
but the officer on the night-duty had positive orders to see the rajah,
and did see him, every relief, which I believed was hourly. He had, in
the course of the day, feigned ill, and wrapped himself up in his
bed-covering; and the officer was naturally satisfied on seeing him, as
he supposed, as usual, enveloped in his bed-clothes; but the cunning
rajah, instead of being penitent for his crimes, had, under the garb of
sickness, actually planned and made his escape: and several of our
native soldiers (the conspirators) had flown with him. Some time after
he was gone, they discovered that the object whom the officer of the
night supposed to be the sick rajah wrapped up in his bed-clothes, was
nothing more than a large pillow. When the last officer went his rounds,
he was satisfied, from appearances, that his charge was secure. This
hint ought to be a warning to young soldiers, not to trust to others
what they ought to do themselves. The neglect of the inferior officer
fell upon the commanding officer in charge, and he was brought to
general court martial, but acquitted, on the ground of the conspiracy of
his detachment. There could have been no necessity for such a trial, had
the visiting officer detected the escape at the prescribed time of his
visiting, and not been satisfied with the appearance instead of the
reality. What could be expected from such a character—from one who had
planned the destruction of those very people who so basely aided and
abetted his escape? Of the sepoys who thus broke their allegiance to the
government, all who were taken suffered the heavy penalty of their
crime—death. This should ever be the result of conspiracy. There can be
no question that the rajah had bribed them with some valuable jewels at
the time, or held out to these infatuated and mercenary traitors golden
promises of future aggrandizement. His escape was in the very heart of
his own country; but who would admit a traitor? He could not procure an
asylum, even in the midst of his own territory. He was hunted from fort
to fort, and literally from door to door, execrated and despised; and he
was, at last, found dead somewhere in Scindia's country—the just reward
of his unprovoked, treasonable, and treacherous conduct. He justly
forfeited his throne, and merited his fall.
We took up our quarters for the night in a small tope of trees, near the
Home Doongra, the eminence which I have before spoken of. The night
being sultry and hot, I slept on the outside of my tent. Close to my
feet ran a little rippling stream, the banks of which were thick and
bushy. I had not reclined long on my couch, before I heard a rustling
noise among the bushes, and the cries of so many animals, that I began
to think I was in rather a dangerous neighbourhood, and got my pistols
ready, in case a tiger or other beast of prey should have taken a fancy
to the body of the baggage-master, in preference to that of some more
comely person. I listened attentively for a considerable time, when I
heard imitations of the sounds of birds. I then knew I was in the
vicinity of thieves, and kept my pistol on the cock. At last, I
distinctly heard a low voice say, "He wakes—squat down." I instantly
jumped off my cot, and ran towards the place; but they were off, and,
from the darkness of the night, I could not see them, or they were so
close it was quite impossible they could have escaped. From the noise
they made in scampering off, there must have been some five or six of
them. I should have changed my quarters after this, but the moon at this
time stole from behind a cloud, and illumined all around, and I slept
peaceably till the morning dawned. We then commenced our reconnoitring,
during which we were frequently saluted with a sixty-four pounder, but
escaped unhurt.
The remainder of the division arrived this morning, and in the course of
the day we completely invested the town and fort. We took up our
position on the east side of the fort, having the river Nerbuddah, with
a large village and tope of trees, in our front, which completely
screened us from view. The information brought into camp by the spy
spoken of, with his plans and drawings of the fort, were found, on a
minute examination, to be utterly false. It turned out that he had never
been near the fort, but loitered about in the woods and villages in its
vicinity, and there gained the information from which he drew his plans.
The integrity and faith of this native had been such, that his master
would have trusted his life on his veracity. For the long period of more
than twenty years had this spy borne the toils and risks of his perilous
occupation, without once having been detected in a falsehood; but his
grey hairs were now, at a late period of his life, disgraced. For his
long services, however, he was pensioned off, and placed in a solitary
hut in his old age, to repent of this one act of deception. He confessed
that his old tottering frame had refused to bear him as heretofore, and
that fear had caused him to commit this his first transgression.
We had gained unquestionable information that a large body of our old
friends, the Pindarees, had found an asylum in this fort, to the number
of five hundred men, to assist in its defence. The place was so closely
invested by us, that a man could not possibly escape; and we, one and
all, were determined to chastise the garrison for their base treachery,
and the Pindarees for their impudence. Although this town and fort
occupied more than three miles in circumference, yet, at night, such was
our care of their precious inmates, we formed a complete and close chain
of sentinels around the whole of the space; and every quarter of a mile
we had posted strong mounted and dismounted piquets, whose horses were
constantly on the bit. The primary object of our brave general was to
avoid any unnecessary effusion of blood; and, consequently, mercy was
tendered to the occupants of the fort, provided they would give it up.
Every base stratagem was resorted to, as usual, to gain time to
reinforce and strengthen the fort, under the plea of taking time to
think of the proffered terms of reconciliation. All this while we could
see every hand employed in building new fortifications, under the
delusion that our guns were only intended to intimidate them into
compliance. They were confirmed in this opinion, not only by the
predictions of their priests, but from the supposed impossibility of
getting any guns of a large size over the gigantic mountains we had
traversed; and, indeed, to view the lofty mountains, to use the words of
the natives, "It was difficult for the sharp-eyed hawk to find his way
over such precipices, for they were as stupendous as the midnight moon,
or the morning light peeping from the newly-lighted chambers of the
East." This delusion lulled them into fancied security, and their
hardened hearts became steeled to the advice of reason, and our offers
of compassion in favour of their mothers, wives, and babes. We soon
convinced them that our guns were not so much to be despised as they
imagined; but, before we opened our batteries on them, one effort more
was made by us to prevent the destruction of life, by another offer of
mercy, accompanied by the most earnest entreaties that, if their own
hearts still continued hardened and obdurate, and they were resolved to
resist the dictates of reason, they would, at least, not imbrue their
hands in the blood of their families. These messages of mercy were
treated with contempt, and spurned with indignation. Every effort that
the feeling mind could suggest, or humanity dictate, was resorted to, to
induce these deluded people to listen to our proposals; and every kind
of forbearance was shown to them, up to the last moment. On the
following morning our guns opened, which drove their priests early to
the temple, to solicit protection and aid from the dumb objects of their
idolatrous worship. The warrior was now seen putting on his coat of
mail; all was bustle, consternation, and confusion. When our cannonading
commenced, the birds, scared, soon got on the rapid wing, and sought
shelter in the distant woods, and the deer fled with the quickness of
lightning across the plain, bending their way towards the dreary forest.
The enemy returned our fire, and hoisted their colours as a proof of
earnest and total defiance of our power. We had not as yet completed our
shelling-batteries, and therefore, before these magazines of death were
finished, we once more called upon the inmates of the fort to send their
families out, with an assurance that we would guarantee their protection
and safety; that they should have a safeguard to whatever part of the
country they wished to proceed; and that they should not be deprived of
any of their private property. We could not make up our minds to fight
against women and children. Our humane general begged most earnestly,
that this, his last entreaty, might be attended to, as he should, on
their refusal, commence his shelling, which would bereave them of many
of those dear objects whom he now, for the last time, gave them an
opportunity to save. A certain time was given for an answer. They knew
that the guarantee proffered for the safety of their families was
inviolable. On this point they were fully satisfied, and our continued
solicitations at length melted their hearts. They consented; and the
following morning, at ten o'clock, was fixed for their coming out. At
this prospect we all felt much delighted, for it deadens the heart of a
brave man to hear the cries and wailings of inoffensive women and
innocent children. Every bosom panted at the happy event, as some great
calamity removed from our own hearts.
In the morning, the sun rose in all his majesty, and his bright beams
seemed to shine with approbation on our act of mercy. We had selected a
large mango tope as the place of rendezvous. The appointed hour arrived,
and we were delighted to see an immense number of people issuing from
the fort, and bending their slow and gloomy steps towards the tope. It
seemed like some funeral procession following some dear relative to the
tomb. Some wept aloud and some in silence; some pressed their little
offspring to their anguished bosoms; and others cast a lingering eye on
the distant tower, where stood the objects of their love. Yet there
seemed a confidence of safety beaming from every eye. A few men
accompanied them, but without arms; and the bastion and walls were lined
with soldiers, to witness the scene. There came grey-headed mothers,
young wives, and numbers of children, from ten and twelve years old, to
the fondling at the mother's breast. What a group of mortal creatures
rescued from the tomb of destruction! The total number was about one
thousand. Some of the women were truly beautiful, and very elegantly
attired. Having made known their places of abode, they were dispatched
under a safeguard. The procession moved slowly on. At about four hundred
yards from the fort, the eyes of most of the party were turned towards
the objects of their love, whom they were about to leave in danger; and
many did bid farewell, and for the last time—for many of their husbands
fell victims to their infatuated and blindfold zeal. When they had
proceeded about a mile from the fort, we gave the enemy three cheers,
testifying that we had strictly fulfilled the duties of the trust
confided to us. The garrison returned our cheers; and, having now
performed the duties of humanity, our next duty was due to our country.
In mercy to their families we did not commence shelling till the doleful
sounds could not reach their ears. We opened them about noon, and our
first shell fell about midway, which created a shout on the part of the
enemy; but the next started them from their hiding-places, and they
could be seen running in all directions.
Having thrown about a dozen, the rajah mounted the shawbroodge (king's
bastion) attended in state, to see the fun. We could recognise him by
his glittering chattah (state umbrella). In the bastion I suppose there
could not be less than twenty or thirty persons, nor could the distance
be less than a mile and a half. The captain of the artillery, determined
to regain his credit for his first bad shot, laid on a special one for
the bastion, and, wonderful to say, it lodged on its very top. In an
instant, even before the smoke cleared, the state chattah and every soul
disappeared, and the shouting in our batteries was terrific. Not a word
was returned from the fort; all seemed gloom and despair; and
self-preservation seemed to be thought of most by them, from the general
movement of the garrison. When the effect of the shell was seen, an
Irish sergeant of the artillery bellowed out, "By my conscience,
captain, but that was after picking some of their teeth for them, for I
saw one of the spalpeens scratching his head," The captain replied, "You
must have capital eyes, sergeant, to see a man scratch his head at this
distance."
"By the powers, your honour, I did see it, because I happened to be
looking at the very time, or I should not perhaps have seen him."
"Well, sergeant, I have no reason to doubt your word; will you try a
shell?"
"I should have no objection, but I have no chance of driving them away,
because they are all gone; but I should like to try one, and see if I
could hit something."
He fired, and immediately cried out, "By St. Patrick, but that's amongst
them, if they should happen to be there." This blunder caused a general
laugh at poor Paddy's expense, who seemed a little nettled, and
peevishly replied, "Fait! you may laugh, but that's more than those will
who were kilt by that shell just now."
We could distinctly hear the moanings of the wounded; and sad must have
been the fate of those poor fellows whose gaping wounds were left
bleeding, the shattered bones protruding through the lacerated flesh.
The very idea makes the sympathetic mind shudder; but the hearts of
these unfortunate creatures were as impenetrable as the stubborn rock on
which their fort was erected. Yet, this very fact serves but to increase
our sorrow for their benighted souls, influenced and guided by some
hypocritical priest or mendicant impostor, who leads them blindfold to
destruction.
The firing from the fort was good and steady, and some of their long
shots would have been no disgrace to a European gunner. I was, during
this siege, as before, baggage-master and acting aid-de-camp to
Brigadier-General Watson, C.B., who invested this fort in person, and
saw hourly the operations carried on under his own eye, being constantly
riding round the chain of posts, or in the breaching and other
batteries, always seeing things done, and strictly watching the progress
of the siege.
Our principal breaching-battery was on the east side of the fort,
keeping the pure stream of the sweet Nerbuddah running between ourselves
and the foe. Many of the enemy, when sipping of its crystal water, were
killed in the attempt to moisten their parched lips. I have more than
once nearly quarrelled with my brother officers on the following
subject, nor can I ever reconcile to my bosom, that the act is fair or
right. The question to which I alluded is this, whether it is fair that
I should secrete myself in a hole, or behind a wall, with a rifle, and
thus, unseen, shoot every poor creature who shows his nose, without my
own person being in the slightest danger. It is true, it is an enemy
whom you thus treat, but I do consider the act of placing one's self in
security, and from the hiding-place dealing out death, treads close upon
the heels of cowardice, if it does not come under the designation of
actual murder. Give me man to man, and sword to sword. I hate unfairness
in anything; and I do not think this practice, though often adopted,
will stand the test of scrutiny in the eye of justice.
We breached a corner bastion of the town, the base of which ran down
into the river, on the banks of which we could approach the breach out
of sight, and pounce upon it unobserved, and out of the reach of their
cannon and small arms. All was impatience to get to work. The breach
seemed fit for storming. Various were the opinions of the impetuous
soldiers relative to its practicability. Some said they could ride up
it, others that they could drive a gig up. Thus went round the
thoughtless opinions of rash youth, ever willing to run headstrong into
danger; but our prudent engineer, Captain Tickell, smiled on their hasty
opinions, and sarcastically replied, "Whenever you do storm, rest
assured you will not find the ascent of that breach a light job. To
satisfy myself," he continued, "I will go. It is better to sacrifice one
life than a hundred." Saying this, he immediately crossed the river,
about a quarter of a mile lower down, and stole along the banks of the
Nerbuddah unobserved, having given previous instructions to the whole of
the batteries to keep their fire for the top of the breach, should he be
attacked. He seemed to ascend with difficulty. Every heart trembled for
his safety, for he was a brave officer, and one of our best engineers.
He at last mounted the summit of the breach, and waved his hat. At that
moment several of the enemy rushed out, but he jumped down the breach.
They came to the very verge of it; but no sooner were their bodies seen,
and the engineer safe from its top, than the whole of our guns, with
shot and shells, were opened, and those who rushed out for his
destruction met their own. Not one of them returned to tell the tale.
On the return of the engineer to the battery, he said nothing to any
one, having been before much annoyed by the speculative opinions of
those who stood about him. He, however, after his return, altered the
direction of the firing of the breaching-battery to a large tree which
had been shot down, and which must necessarily impede our ascent. This,
he afterwards said, completely blocked up the footing of the breach;
and, had we stormed according to the opinions and ardent wishes of many
of the inexperienced, we must have suffered considerably in the loss of
lives. He afterwards said, that he thought it a providential thing that
such opinions, however foolish, had been expressed, for it was the cause
of his being able to remedy an evil he could not for a moment have
foreseen. On the contrary, it had before been his opinion, that the
fallen tree would have facilitated our progress rather than impeded it.
He thought we should be able to storm in the afternoon. A howitzer was
immediately laid for the removal of this obstacle, and the shell fired
from it lodged in the very centre of the rooty part of the tree, and
when it burst blew it to pieces. This drew upon the artillery-officer
who laid it the eulogiums of the spectators. Amongst the number was the
Irish sergeant, who cried out, "By the powers, captain, but that's what
I call a moving shot."
"Yes," replied the captain, "a remover, certainly, for I see the stump
of the tree is gone. I wish you would remove the other large bough that
hangs on the side of the bastion."
"I will try, if your honour pleases; but I should rather see your honour
do it, to finish the work you are just after completing, and I will try
and do the rest."
Thus went round the merry joke, and we were all laughing heartily at
poor Pat's bulls and drollery, when a whisper was heard running the
lines, "Fall in, storming-party!" On went the pointed bayonet; in went
the new flint. Everybody was busy in an instant, and naught was heard
save the hammering of flints and the fixing of bayonets. This was about
three o'clock in the afternoon. We crossed the Nerbuddah, and marched
along the bed of the river to our other breaching-battery, and there
rendezvoused for a time, till all was ready.
The gallant general on whose staff I had acted had volunteered to lead
the storming-party in person, as it was supposed we had a sharp job
before us. I, as part of his staff, did not of course remain behind, but
had the honour to participate with the general in the toils and glory of
the day. Our situations, I assure the reader, were no sinecures; for we
fought and fagged hard for nearly three hours.
About four o'clock the party moved on, led by the brave general and his
suite. The storming-party consisted of two companies of the Bengal 14th
regiment Native Infantry, supported by the 13th regiment. We stole
slowly on along the bank, every tongue as still as the midnight thief.
About ten or twenty paces before we got to the breach, the column was
visible to a projecting bastion of the fort, from which a strong party
of Arabs was dispatched, to stay our progress and oppose our entrance.
These for a considerable time disputed our entry, but our brave native
troops, inspired by the cheering of their gallant leader, soon beat them
from their posts. They then took possession of some huts that had
escaped being burnt, and fired through loop-holes; but they soon burnt
themselves out, by setting fire, either by intention or accident, to
these huts. This for a moment stopped our further progress, as we could
not pass the flaming huts. Here we lost some few men; and, seeing that
the destruction of numbers of our brave sepoys was inevitable, if we
remained long in this position, we rushed through the flames, and on the
opposite side found a large body of men drawn up to oppose us. For a
short time the struggle was hard; but our brave little general soon gave
the word, "Charge!" It was then that the butchery commenced. For a time
our brave opponents would not give way, but rushed upon the bayonet's
point, and fought sword in hand; but, when they did begin to run, the
carnage was truly dreadful. I saw one grey-headed old Arab,
notwithstanding that he had two bayonets through his body, and was lying
on his back, cutting away in a most resolute and heroic manner. The
third wound which he received was a shot through his head, which settled
him. We followed close on the heels of the fugitives, who fell in all
directions. They branched off towards the left, in the hope of getting
off in that quarter, but we had previously sent a strong party of
infantry and cavalry to prevent their escape. They were now completely
hemmed in, and fight they must, or die. They did fight, and I never saw
men fall so fast. They were in such numbers that every shot told.
Hundreds of them threw down their arms and took to the water. These were
for the most part drowned, and those who reached the opposite shore were
made prisoners; but these were comparatively few to the number who met a
watery grave. Some few escaped into the fort; and others threw down
their arms, and begged for mercy.
In a deep ravine were about a hundred women and children. These poor
creatures had been detained as corn-grinders, and our shells,
unfortunately, had made sad destruction amongst them. Many of their
children had their legs and arms shot off, and I saw one with its
entrails protruding, a ball having gone completely through its body. We
left a guard over this wretched party, to prevent them from being fired
on. At this point we were exposed to a smart fire from the fort, which
took off our attention from these women, and we pushed on, and in an
hour had completely cleared the town of its fighting men. The fire from
the fort became warmer; and it was therefore requisite that we should
maintain what we had got, for night now began to cast a gloom on the
scene below. It was now necessary to establish ourselves for the night,
under cover from the shots of the fort; which we did by occupying
temples and other buildings, as also the principal entrances to the
main streets. In a couple of hours we were secure and safe, and not a
single shot was fired. All was calm and quiet, save the distressing
moanings of the wounded and the dying, whose cries and groans were truly
touching to the heart. We grieved that we could not relieve them; but
all that we could do was to take care that none of our troops or
followers ventured to add to, or aggravate their pains, by rifling their
persons, or by any taunting triumph. It would have been a mercy to have
hidden from the human eye such a sight as was then before us, and we
hailed with joy the closing of day, which shut from our view the
distorted features of dying men, and the gushing streams of the wounded.
The night set in, in dreary darkness, and the clouds seemed thick and
gloomy; and in an instant all was hidden from short-sighted man, and
seen alone to Him to whose care and protection we will leave the
sufferers.

CHAPTER XXI
After we had taken full possession of the town of Gurrah Mundellah, I
was directed, at about ten o'clock at night, to proceed alone and
examine a distant temple, to ascertain if it was a safe asylum to lodge
men in for the night. This temple stood at the end of a long street, to
which I was obliged to grope my way, guided only by the distant fired
hut, or a peeping star. Why did the general send me alone? Because he
knew I would go, and it was better to risk the life of one man than five
hundred. I cannot say that I had any great penchant for this job; but
off I marched without a murmur. It was the general's part to order, and
my duty promptly and cheerfully to obey. The night being dark, and the
dead and the dying lying in all directions, it was no very enviable
trip; but duty led me through every difficulty. My pace was slow and
cautious; not quite so slow as the goose-step, but something near it. In
each hand I had a pistol, and I kept one eye turned to the right and the
other to the left, now and then stealing a glimpse to the front, but
could not spare time to look behind me. Occasionally my pointed toe
would come in contact with a dead body or wounded man. This created
sensations by no means agreeable. I had not proceeded far, when some
person seized my leg, and said, "Who are you?" This a little startled
me; I suddenly drew it away, and said I was his friend. "Then give me
some water," said he, "for I am wounded." I felt every inclination to
render the poor creature this service, but it was quite impossible; so I
passed on, but had hardly recovered my fright, when a large beam that
was on fire fell with a tremendous crash, and several voices were heard,
and the sound of persons running from the place where the beam fell. I
stopped for a moment to listen, but all was again quiet, and I moved on
slowly till I reached the foot or steps of the temple, when I heard the
tinkling of a small bell. I ascended the steps and reached the door,
when I heard some person murmuring out his midnight prayers. I at last
peeped in, and discerned an aged priest prostrating himself on the
ground before one of his gods. A small lamp was suspended from the
ceiling. I entered and gave him the customary salute of the evening, but
he had not the politeness to return my salute, but blew out the light
and ran out precipitately, and I followed him, having first minutely
surveyed the temple. What the priest took me for I know not, but
probably for a ghost, for he was out of the temple in a moment. I
returned by the same streets I came down, but a little faster. When
about half-way, I heard voices; then horses' feet; and, at last, I could
see several men on horseback approaching, and soon found, by their
conversation, that they were some men from our camp, belonging to our
ally, Scindia, who had got in for the purpose of plundering. I slunk
behind a hut till they had passed, as I knew well that these marauders
would have cut my throat for the sake of the buttons on my coat; so I
permitted them to pass on, and I had hardly emerged from my
hiding-place, when a huge Pariah dog set up a tremendous howling. He was
sitting down close by a dead man, no doubt his master, for on the
following morning he was still there, and howled piteously when any one
approached the body. The poor animal was shot, and thus put out of his
misery.
I at last reached the general, and made my report; after which I had the
honour of escorting two companies to the temple; but the old priest had
not returned. I then had to return alone; and, having established the
troops, the general and suite, myself among the number, returned to
camp, and, after a good dinner, retired to bed and slept soundly.
We recommenced our work on the following morning. On our arrival in the
town, we were informed that a Captain B. and about fifty men had been in
the fort the greater part of the night. On receiving this information,
the general could hardly credit the assertion; but, on approaching the
fort, he found it was true. The gate of the fort was thrown open, and we
entered; and, never did human eye look on more accumulated woe and
misery than the scene before us presented. The carnage far exceeded that
of Hattrass, or of any of the other storms I have had the unpleasant
task to narrate. I shall not attempt to describe the scene; and, should
these Memoirs ever meet the eye of any of my fair countrywomen, I am
confident they will thank me for the omission. Suffice that upwards of
five hundred bodies were, in the course of the day, committed to a large
well, into which the enemy had thrown many of the dead during the siege.
This well was closed up; and a man of the artillery sculptured on a
stone, with his bayonet,
THE SOLDIER'S GRAVE.
There let them rest in peace!
We had scarcely proceeded one hundred yards when we met Captain B. and
his men, with the keeledar and another person in custody. The general
thus addressed him, "Captain B., by what authority have you acted as you
have done, and thus, without orders or instruction, permitted your men
to enter the fort?" The captain told a lame story, to the effect that
the keeledar had offered him a bribe to permit him to escape through the
limits of his post; and that, having refused this, he received
information that, if he wished, he might march his men into the fort.
There was evidently a mystery in all this, and the ill-natured world
said many unkind things on the subject; but how far these may have been
true I cannot pretend to say. Certain it is, however, that there was
something that came out a short time afterwards, that would have brought
the affair under the investigation of a general court-martial; but the
individual died, and the affair died with him, and he was buried on the
spot. He was an officer of unblemished character; and little did he
think that the spot where he was accused of committing his first offence
would be his grave. The keeledar was a most respectable-looking man, and
elegantly dressed; but I do not think I ever saw a more careworn and
dejected face than his in my life-time. He seemed weighed down with woe.
He salaamed to the general in a most respectful and humble manner, and
said, "Do what you please with me," at the same time offering his head.
I was desired to inform him that he must answer for his rebellion before
a court-martial, and that his life would be the forfeit if he could not
state satisfactory reasons for his treachery and rebellion, and satisfy
the government that this act of disaffection was not his own. He
replied, "I am as willing to meet death as I am to meet you here." He
was placed in security, and our next object was to dispose of the
prisoners. These were in number about two thousand, and more than
one-third of them were wounded. They were allowed their option, either
to return to their homes, or remain in the town. The greater part of
them availed themselves of the former offer; and, having been deprived
of their arms, they went off to join their families, and bear the sad
tidings to many an anxious wife of her husband's death, and to many a
fond mother the bitter news of her son having been shot.
Having arranged everything for the protection of the property, I was
appointed a prize agent for head-quarters, and we immediately commenced
collecting the property to one spot. My first care was to put double
sentinels on the entrance to the zenanah, till I could, with the other
two prize-agents, search that place; but, as they were busy in another
place, I took a peep at my double sentinels, and found one of them had
left his post, and gone inside. I met him coming towards me with two
large boxes, about two feet by three. I asked him what he had got there,
and he said that they contained nothing but paun. I told him to give
them to me. He did so, and I found them of an enormous weight. They
contained, in fact, the whole of the jewellery of the zenanah. In the
verandah were large bales of shawls and silks, sewn together like
quilts, and in an inner room was the family of the keeledar, consisting
of his wife and two daughters, who, on beholding me, threw themselves at
my feet, and begged for mercy in the most beseeching manner.
I could as soon have laid the finger of harm on the author of my being;
indeed, the duties of my present situation were repugnant and
uncongenial to my feelings; but, whatever situation I was appointed to,
or intrusted with, I always made it my primary object to fulfil the
several branches of it in the most rigid manner, consistent with the
rules of the service and usages of war; and, therefore, the more
sympathetic feelings were absorbed in those of duty. I, however,
consoled these poor weeping creatures with the full assurance of their
safety and protection against harm or pollution, of which they expressed
the most dreadful fears. This privileged right of war, so esteemed by
the native powers, has in no instance ever stained the victorious
banners of the East India Company; but these females had wrought their
anguished minds on this subject to a pitch of frenzy and distraction,
and all I could do and say could not drive from their fear-distorted
features the evident dread under which they laboured. When, at length, I
called God to witness the sincerity of my assurances, I could see a ray
of hope beam and shine through their tears of apprehension, and their
tempestuous bosoms became comparatively quieted and calmed. The thanks
and prayers of the elder daughter would have affected with pity and
commiseration the most tyrannic heart. She was, I think, the most
perfect beauty I had ever seen. Her form was sylph-like and elegant; her
features regular and beautifully shaped; and her eyes were of a jet
black, and peeped from under her dark eyebrows like stars stealing from
behind the murky clouds of night. Her voice, when she spoke, was
extremely sweet, and the words of consolation which she addressed to her
aged mother, would have drawn tears of pity from the most obdurate
heart. When she threw herself at my feet, and supplicated for mercy, her
piercing and anguished looks stole drops of pity from my eyes; and the
conjuring expression of her beautiful countenance would have won the
most savage bosom to commiseration. She seized my sabre, which was
suspended from my side, and grasped it with both her hands, till I
solemnly pledged myself for her protection and safety. When I did this,
her beautiful eyes beamed forth that gratitude which she could not find
words to express. I assisted her to rise, and then placed the three
ladies in a room upstairs, till they could, with propriety, be made over
to the keeledar, who was at present in custody, and must meet the
sentence of a general court-martial. It was supposed that nothing could
save him from the heavy penalty of his rebellion.
We were the whole day getting together the prize property—elephants,
camels, horses, bullocks, &c. During the day, the general visited the
keeledar's afflicted family. He assured them of their protection and
safety, and ordered that every requisite for their use should be given
them, more especially their clothes, which were splendid indeed! They
were protected, consoled, and sympathized with. It is the boast and
pride of the brave to administer succour to the afflicted, and wipe away
the tear of sorrow. Our brave general was humane as he was brave; and
when he visited this weeping family, he said, "Shipp, this is a sad
sight; what can possibly be done to relieve their distress?" He desired
me to inform them of his inclination to alleviate their sufferings;
that they should, in the course of the day, see their father; and that,
should they wish it, they might be permitted to see him every day, but
that, for the present, he must live separate from them. The general
desired me to say everything that could console them. The elder daughter
threw herself at his feet, and thanked him for his kindness. I saw the
tear stealing down the gallant general's cheek as he turned his head
from her; and for a time he was so overpowered by his feelings that he
could not speak.
In the course of the day the ladies were permitted to visit the
keeledar. They proceeded, veiled, to the room in which he was confined;
and the meeting was truly distressing. The daughter whispered words of
comfort into her father's ear, and did her utmost to console and support
him; begging him not to be so dejected, and assuring him that they had
fallen into the hands of merciful and humane persons, whose general had
himself assured her of her safety and protection from all harm. She
continued, "Come, dear father, cheer up;" and she kissed away his tears,
and wiped his eyes with the end of her white muslin dress. The old man
cried and sobbed most piteously; but, having given full vent to his
tears, he was more cheerful. They remained with him about a couple of
hours, and then returned to their apartments in the zenanah, greatly
composed and comforted.
The prize property was removed to camp, and sold by public auction,
which lasted a whole day. It realized a very large sum of money. The
general court-martial for the trial of the rebel keeledar now assembled,
composed entirely of native commissioned officers, the senior officer
acting as president. A warrant had been granted by the governor-general
in council of Fort William, for the convening of native general
courts-martial, for the trial of all such persons as might rebel against
the government. This man now stood arraigned before a tribunal thus
constituted, charged with treachery and rebellion against the
government. Forty years' service crowned the brow of the venerable
soubahdar who presided on this occasion, and he was a very shrewd clever
fellow. The proceedings were conducted by a European officer, through an
interpreter, and committed to paper in English. The crime with which the
prisoner stood charged was read to him by the interpreter. He seemed
perfectly to comprehend the charge against him, and he pleaded "Guilty."
This he pronounced in a manly and firm voice, stating, that he fought
entirely irresponsibly, and that he was ready and willing to meet the
penalty of the law, and atone for his disobedience with his life. Here
he struck his bosom, and seemed to wait the order for his execution. The
president turned round to him, and said, in a most pathetic manner,
"Keeledar, you have now put your seal to your own death by that
confession; but have you not got a wife and children? If you have no
value for your own life, will you also murder them?" This appeal, urged
in the most impressive manner, roused the keeledar from his lethargy. He
started, looked wild, paused; his lips seemed to quiver; and his head
dropped on his heaving bosom. There seemed to be an innate working of
the soul—a dreadful struggle between two contending feelings. The good
and humane president soothingly said, "Take your time, ere you pronounce
the sad doom of your wife and children—your time is ours." The whole
court, and the numerous spectators, now waited with breathless
impatience and anxiety, to hear the keeledar's reply. At last he said,
"Your observation relative to my wife and children is just. I will not
be the means of agonizing their feelings; but," continued he, "what will
the rajah say, should I deceive him?" The rajah's treachery and
rebellion were explained to him, and he was apprised of his elopement,
and the probability there was that he was dead. Upon hearing this, his
feelings seemed to undergo another struggle, and, after a short pause,
he drew from his bosom a long roll of paper, which contained the most
peremptory instructions from the rajah, to fight the English, "as long
as one stone of Gurrah Mundellah stood upon another, and as long as one
drop of water remained in the Nerbuddah, to wash away their blood." This
letter was received the very day he had promised to give up the fort to
Major O'Brien. Other documents fully proved that his resistance to the
government was in fulfilment of the positive orders of his master. He
was consequently fully acquitted, but kept in custody for some time. He
was afterwards pensioned by the Company. Had this man been hanged, it
would have cast a gloom over our victory. He afterwards confessed to me,
that the difficulty he had experienced in resolving upon the course
which he at last was induced to pursue on his trial, arose from his
doubts whether it was more honourable to sacrifice his own life, or
eternally to offend his tyrannic master. He expressed himself as being
very grateful to the court for their great care and anxiety about him,
more especially to the good soubahdar. I immediately communicated the
fact of his acquittal to his agonized family, who prostrated themselves
on the earth, and said, "Bless the humane English! may they long live
and prosper in this land!" Immediately after his acquittal he was
permitted to live with his wife and daughters, and he was received by
them with feelings that would have done credit and honour to a more
enlightened family. From that moment his beautiful daughter was no more
visible; but they all proceeded with us towards the small fort of
Huttra, until the turbulence of the country in which the keeledar
resided had in some measure subsided, when he was permitted to return to
his home.
Having left a regiment for the protection of the fort of Huttra, we
proceeded towards Saugar. On our way we had to call on several smaller
forts, the occupants of which gave them up without a murmur; and in a
short time we reached our cantonments: but scarcely had we had time to
cool ourselves, when we were again put in requisition, and directed to
proceed against the strong stone fort of Gurrah Khootah. Towards this
fort we moved some time in the month of March, 1819; and we were not
displeased with the news, as we were indebted to the keeledar of that
fort an old grudge, for his impudence when we passed it some few months
before. The garrison was overbearing, and it was high time to bring them
to their senses. This fort belonged to Scindia, one of our allies, but
had been sold by the garrison, for their ten months' arrears of pay, to
a neighbouring rajah, who could not or would not give it up without a
fight for it. The circumstances of the purchase are these:—
Some years before that period, the fort of Gurrah Khootah was besieged
by a considerable force from the Deccan, and they persisted in the siege
for some eighteen months, but could not take it. The rajah, then its
owner, not being able to drive the invading force away, solicited Jean
Baptiste, a bastard Frenchman in Scindia's service, to disperse the
besiegers, with a promise that he would reward him for so doing with
some land in the vicinity of the fort. This was accepted by the
Frenchman, who, with a considerable force, succeeded in driving the
besiegers to their own country. This accomplished, he took up his ground
on the place the besiegers had left; and, a day having been appointed
for the arrangement of the promised reward, the hypocritical Jean
Baptiste marched into the fort in the greatest splendour and
magnificence, with colours flying, drums beating, war-trumpets
screeching, &c. His forces were permitted to enter indiscriminately, and
no treachery was even dreamed of. When the usual greetings and
congratulations were over, shoulder to shoulder, and breast to breast,
at a preconcerted signal, the unsuspecting and unarmed garrison were
pounced upon, and driven out of the fort, and deprived of their wives
and daughters. Jean Baptiste then gave, or sold, the said fort to
Scindia, who placed in charge of it one Harratoone, an Armenian.
The garrison, under this man's command, sold the fort for their arrears
of pay, and the purchaser was the grandson of him whom Jean Baptiste had
so treacherously deceived; and, if every one had his right, it was
legally his own without paying for it.
This grandson of the original owner of the fort paid up the arrears of
the garrison—eighty thousand rupees—the old garrison walked out, and
he walked in. Scindia, however, still considered this fort to be his;
but, as he could not take it, he called upon us, his allies, to take it
for him. Had it been the old garrison, we should have been better
pleased; but it was our duty to obey orders; so to work we went, the
garrison having positively refused to give it up without a struggle.
This fort stands on the river Scend; and two sides of it are protected
and guarded by that river, which is deep. The other two faces are
protected by a strong stone wall thrown round the fort, on the banks of
a branch of the same river. It was, therefore, necessary that we should
make ourselves masters of this outwork, before we commenced breaching
the fort. For this purpose a corner bastion was selected, where the
water of the river was not more than three feet deep. In a few hours the
breach was ready, and the moon's rising was the time appointed for the
storming of this bastion. The ascent was high and difficult. The general
was in the battery when the storming party moved out, and I was rather
surprised to see him proceed with them down to the river. I, of course,
stuck close to his elbow. The enemy soon observed us, and commenced a
heavy fire, but too high. Our brave sepoys mounted the breach like
heroes; but at the top the fight seemed desperate on both sides, and at
one time we thought our men were giving way. Impressed with this notion,
our brave little general dashed through the water, and was on the top of
the bastion in a moment, and soon cheered his men in. The enemy fled
towards the fort, and left us in quiet possession of the outer
fortification. There was a large house, about two hundred paces from
this corner, which our men occupied during the night, and we returned to
the camp pleased with our day's exploit, and that we had not stained Old
England's banner.
On the following morning the engineer fixed on a place for the batteries
on the opposite side of the river, and breached an enormous bastion,
which, like that of the fort of Mundellah, ran down to the water's edge.
In four-and-twenty hours the heavy guns were moved down and put into
their places for work, establishing our grand magazine in a village
immediately behind them, to which a road had been dug for the purpose of
conveying the ammunition, without being exposed to the firing from the
fort. The general gave most positive orders, before he left the battery,
that no ammunition should, on any account, be lodged in the magazine,
but that it should be kept behind the village. These orders having been
given, we rode home to breakfast. I had scarcely swallowed a mouthful
when the general seemed restless, and presently said, "Shipp, saddle
your horse immediately, and ride at speed to the grand battery. I have a
strange presentiment that all is not right there." My horse was saddled
in a moment, and I galloped down with all possible speed. When I arrived
at the battery I really thought I should have fallen off my horse, for
the first things that met my eye were the whole of the tumbrells, with
shots and shells, and some thousands of rounds of gunpowder. These were
all drawn up in the battery, and a single shot from the fort would have
blown them all up. I ordered them to be removed instantly behind the
village; and this we completed without the enemy's firing one shot. I
found, on inquiry, that the captain to whom the general's command was
given, delivered his orders to his subaltern—the subaltern to the
sergeant—the sergeant to the corporal—and so on to the poor stupid
driver of the bullocks. I hope this circumstance may meet the eye of
the young soldier, and teach him the absolute necessity of the strictest
obedience to orders, and impress upon his mind that, whatever may be his
rank, it does not place him above seeing things executed himself. Had
those tumbrells, through the neglect which occurred, been blown up, many
lives must have been destroyed, and the loss of the contents of the
tumbrells would have obliged us to have raised the siege, and given the
enemy time to fortify their fort. All this mischief would have fallen on
him whose imperative duty it was to have seen the general's orders
obeyed, and not to have intrusted their execution to others. Crimes out
of number would have been framed against him: such as utter contempt of
orders—pointed neglect of duty—wantonly destroying the lives of his
soldiers, and the property of the government with which he had been
intrusted. Nothing could have saved his commission; and, if the accident
had happened, what could have soothed his feelings? As it was, the
escape was quite providential; for, scarcely had the last tumbrell got
round the corner of the village, before the enemy commenced a heavy
cannonade on the very spot from which the ammunition tumbrells had been
removed. On my return towards camp I met the general riding towards the
fort at speed, still imagining that something was not right. When I
reported to him the circumstances just described, he rode on and
admonished the captain in most severe terms; but his heart was as humane
as it was brave, and he soon pardoned the neglect, and forgot all about
it.
We then went round the other works, to see that everything was safe and
in obedience to his orders. In the mortar-battery, the general observed
to the captain of the artillery, that he thought the magazine was too
close to the battery; but the officer explained the nature of its
construction, which satisfied him of its security, and we rode home
again.
We were in hopes of opening our breaching-guns on the following morning,
for which purpose we all rode down to see them commence. The
shelling-battery had commenced the day before, and did wonderful
execution. The guns were loaded; the match was lit; when, on a sudden,
our attention was drawn from the contemplation of this view to one of a
less pleasant nature—an awful explosion in our mortar-battery, the
shells from which were ascending some yards above the heads of the
artillery-men, and then exploding. I was immediately dispatched to
ascertain the cause of this unfortunate occurrence. I rode within a
hundred and eighty yards of the fort, but I was not conscious that I was
so near, till their balls roused me from my reverie. Something still
kept blowing up in our mortar-battery, so that I had not time to go
further round. I continued my course, therefore, as hard as my horse
would go, till I arrived at the river. The crossing, at this part of the
river, was completely commanded by three guns, which the good-natured
souls in the fort had laid for me when I should get in the middle of the
said crossing. The water was about four feet deep; consequently, my
progress was slow. The first shot went about twenty yards over me; the
next fell short; but the third struck the water so close to me, that the
spray covered both myself and my horse, and I was wet through. In this
state I dismounted, keeping my horse between me and the fort, for I had
still the worst part to go over. The moment they saw me dismount, there
was a general shout from the bastion, conceiving that the last shot had
killed me. This shouting and taunting roused the indignation of the
aid-de-camp, and, to check their mirth, he mounted again, and took off
his hat and waved it in defiance of them. Upon this they sent three
messengers at once, but not one came to me. Before I reached the battery
the enemy were, naturally enough, very busy in availing themselves of
the general panic caused by our mortar magazine having blown up. Near
the battery, the first object that met my sight was a native gunner
literally skinned from head to foot, crying most piteously for a drink
of water. Nearer the battery lay several European and native soldiers
dead. Everything was in the greatest confusion, and consternation was on
every countenance. The dreadful catastrophe happened in the following
manner:—
Behind the mortars lay some hundreds of shells, ready loaded, to be used
as they might be required; a shell, fired from one of the centre
mortars, burst in the muzzle; the fusee recoiled and fell on the loaded
shells; these exploded, and communicated with the magazine, which, at
that moment, a person had entered for the purpose of bringing out some
requisite. The explosion blew up this poor man, the unfortunate native
gunner before spoken of. It was more than twenty paces between the
magazine and the spot where this poor creature was found. In two days
after, he died. The melancholy event could not have been foreseen or
prevented; but the consequences were serious—sixteen men suffered, four
of them Europeans. Three of the victims were lying in the battery,
without their bodies having been even touched with gunpowder. They died
from concussion of the brain. One European was blown some yards into the
river, without the slightest injury. Conductor Glassop, of the Bengal
Foot Artillery, a man of upwards of twenty stone, was standing amidst
the shells when they blew up, and, strange to say, escaped uninjured.
Circumstances like these are the inscrutable doings of Providence, and
far beyond man's poor and narrow comprehension. At this time the general
had himself arrived, and having ascertained the cause of the sad
catastrophe, could only add his moiety of commiseration for the poor
sufferers. Blame could not be attached to anyone. The affair was one of
the unavoidable accidents of war, which no human foresight could have
guarded against or prevented.
The enemy, availing themselves of the calamity, rushed to that side of
the fort in great numbers, and brought every moveable gun and matchlock
to bear on the scene of woe. Having removed the dead and wounded to
camp, we reloaded the whole of the mortars and howitzers in the two
batteries, and levelled them at the multitude of people that had
collected on the fort. They were fired in quick succession, when a
general flight took place, and many of them ran their last race. Nearly
sixty shells, with some few shots, were fired in a few minutes, and not
a soul could for some time afterwards be seen at the same side of the
fort, save some few bearing away the dead and the wounded. We then gave
them three cheers, but they returned not the greeting.
At this moment our breaching-battery opened with a salvo, accompanied
with three hearty cheers, which that side of the garrison returned.
After this we went on coolly and systematically, and we returned home
again, visiting the several posts and batteries. In the evening, the
European soldiers were committed to the grave, followed by their
comrades, who dropped a tear to their memory.
The following morning I went to breakfast with Captain Daggalier, of the
old 13th regiment Bengal Native Infantry, in the large house occupied by
our men, about five hundred yards from the fort. We were busily engaged
upstairs securing a hearty meal, when a large three-pound shot found its
way through the window of the room in which we sat, and passed under the
table between my legs and those of Captain Daggalier. This convinced me
that there is some advantage in having long legs. Mine were so
excessively lanky, that I could only just screw them under the edge of
the little camp-table; from which fact only I can still boast of having
two legs. I need not say that the tea-things, breakfast, &c., were
broken and upset. I joined another party, and, having finished my
breakfast, I proceeded to meet the general, who had arrived to examine
our approaches in this direction.

CHAPTER XXII
The breached bastion was found to be a tough piece of masonry, extremely
thick and well put together; so we pegged away at its foundation. At
last some of the stones began to give warning that they were tired of
the fun, and would not stand it any longer—so down they came; and those
on the top, wishing to show their attachment, soon followed, and by the
following day, the breach looked ascendable.
When I went down to the breaching-battery, I saw my old friend, the
Irish sergeant, busy laying a gun. "Well, sergeant," said I, "what do
you think of the breach?"
He replied, "The divel a better within a day's march."
"Do you think we shall get in, sergeant?"
"The divel a fear of that, for there is not a living soul but what our
shells have kilt and destroyed; so that when you are in, you will have
nothing to do but shoot the remainder, and take the place in a moment."
"I am afraid you are too sanguine, sergeant," said I.
"Not at all, your honour: you will not find ten living men in the whole
fort that our shells have not destroyed. If you do, call Paddy Dogan a
spalpeen."
"Well," I answered, "we shall see, sergeant."
"Fait!" said he, "that's more than they will; it would do their dead
eyes good to take a peep at our brave boys getting up the breach."
Here was a general titter at the expense of poor Pat; and he exclaimed,
"Fait! you may laugh, but it's no laughing matter; how would you like
to be kilt yourselves? Answer me that question."
At the back of the breach stood the once splendid palace of its rightful
owner, but now one general mass of ruins. The breach was reported
practicable, and the storming ordered for the following morning, giving
time to knock off all defences behind which the enemy could secrete and
hide themselves, so as to annoy the storming party; but the keeledar of
the fort, seeing his haughty tower tumbling to the ground, his soldiers
falling victims to our shells wherever they showed themselves, and that
several fatal explosions had already occurred during the siege, began to
think seriously of giving up the fort, rather than stand the storm. He
had, indeed, lost a great number of his best men. A messenger was
therefore dispatched from the fort, stating that, if the general would
permit them to march out with their arms and private property, they
would give up the fort. The proposal stood on these grounds: their arms
were not worth ten pounds, and the whole of their property consisted of
what they stood in. Need there be a scruple in granting such a
proposition? Was there anything dishonourable in meeting such a
proposal, if only in mercy for human lives? Certainly not. The breach
was a most difficult one, and there is no question that, if they had
defended it, we should have lost fifty or more men; and it was by no
means clear to me, or any man who knew what a breach was, that our
success would have been at all a certain thing. Our brave and humane
general agreed at once to the terms proposed, much against the will of
some of the Company's officers, who attempted to attach some degree of
blame to his permitting them to march out with their arms. Our general,
however, by his own nice judgment, and the advice of his staff-officers,
some of whom had been years in the Company's army, overruled the
opinions of the firebrand sub in search of promotion, and the following
morning was appointed for their marching out. On viewing the garrison
the next morning, it was found to consist of fifteen hundred fine men,
well armed and equipped; so that we had no reason to regret that we had
not wantonly sacrificed men's lives. The garrison had been originally
two thousand strong, but was now reduced to about fifteen hundred, the
others having been killed and wounded. When we marched down, the gates
of the fort were closed, and the men had manned the ramparts. I was
desired to inform them, that the time for giving the fort up had
expired; and, if not at once complied with, the general must instantly
order the storming-party to proceed, for which purpose they had been
drawn up near the breach. At last the gates were thrown open, and the
keeledar, at the head of his men, marched out in column, with a firm
steady pace. He was a fine-looking man, and, indeed, so were all his
soldiers. Their wounded men were brought out by their comrades on cots.
These poor fellows we begged might be sent to our hospital, for the
purpose of being dressed. On passing the general, the keeledar saluted.
The general coolly returned; they marched out, and we marched in. The
inside of the gate was covered with dead bodies of men, horses,
bullocks, &c.; many of the houses were torn up by the roots, and the
smell was beyond anything dreadful. The palace had been torn to pieces,
and under its gigantic pillars protruded legs and arms of men and women.
The sight was truly horrifying, and I will hasten over it as fast as
possible. In the centre of the fort was found the old Armenian governor,
who had, during the siege, been confined in a cell, and almost starved
to death. I never in my life saw such a picture of woe as this poor
creature. He was about sixty years of age; his hair quite white. He was
the son of an Armenian by a native woman, and, consequently, of fair
complexion, which his confinement caused to look cadaverous. You could
almost have laid your finger in the furrows of his careworn cheek, and
his little black eyes were sunk deep into his head. He was permitted to
join his family, which had been sent to a small village during the
siege.
The fort presented one mass of desolation and poverty, the old garrison
having taken care of everything of value before they sold it. I had been
appointed, on this occasion, prize-agent for the staff of the army, and
commenced my search. It was rumoured that Jean Baptiste had in this fort
secreted thirty lacs of rupees, which we were resolved to find, if
possible. We dug up large pigs of lead, bars of iron, sheets of copper,
pits of grain, vats of ghee (a kind of butter), but no money. If
perseverance could discover this hidden treasure, we were resolved to
find it. After digging above twenty feet, and working our way under the
palace, we discovered a dungeon, or cell. Into this we descended, at the
risk of treading on reptiles. From this dungeon we traced several rooms
or cells, no doubt formerly the prisons of some captive beauties, till
they were reconciled to an illicit intercourse with their tyrants.
Searching every hole, and digging in every corner, we came at last to a
kind of wall, newly built up, through the top of which we could see a
door. This wall and door we soon forced to obedience, and we entered a
large room, recently cleaned and whitewashed. In the centre of this room
was a trap-door, with a large lock. Our hearts beat high with
expectation; but what was our surprise, when we found this tomb
contained the body of some poor murdered person, who had been buried
here! Thus ended our search; and the whole captured property sold for
fifteen hundred rupees, which we were obliged to hand over to Scindia
some time afterwards. Our next duty was to commit the dead to the earth.
In the performance of this unpleasant task, I had to follow one of the
Company's artillery to his last home. Observing one of the funeral party
lagging behind the rest, I asked him why he did not keep up. He
answered, that "He had had a great big fight with the deceased a short
time before he went dead, and he did not think the man had forgiven
him." "Poh! poh!" replied I, "the man cannot hurt you now he is
dead."—"Och, fait!" said he, "I beg your honour's pardon. I once knew
a man that was as dead as Barney Flynn's great-grandmother, come to
life; besides, the deceased said he would never rest, dead or no dead,
till he gave me a great big bating; and I should not like to provoke
him."—"Do not talk such nonsense to me," said I.—"Nonsense! your
honour; it's no such thing at all, at all; he was a mighty cunning chap
when alive, and who knows what he has learned since he went dead?" All I
could say I could not induce this man to approach till the corpse was
lowered into the grave, and that half filled, when he at last ventured
to look in, and said, "Fait! I believe you are snug enough now,
joy."—"Throw in a piece of earth as a signal that you part friends,"
said one of the men; but Paddy quickly replied, "No, no; that would be
striking the first blow;" and he went away immediately, no doubt full of
apprehensions that he should some time or other receive a nocturnal
visit from his comrade, who now slumbered in peace, secure in the cold
grave from war's alarms. So much for superstition!
Having buried our dead, we left one regiment of native infantry till
Scindia should send a more loyal garrison. We were afterwards given to
understand, that his highness was not at all obliged to us for knocking
his fort to pieces. We then turned towards home, and in a few days
reached Saugar to rest our weary limbs.
After the toils of war, and seeing no prospect of having anything more
to do, I obtained permission to visit my wife at Cawnpore, some four
hundred miles from Saugar. This was readily granted: I reached Cawnpore
in the space of fourteen days; and, in the embraces of an affectionate
wife, I forgot, for a time, the "pride, pomp, and circumstance of
glorious war." I remained in Cawnpore about eight or ten days, and the
place was at that time the seat of festivity and splendour. Dinners,
balls, and routs, followed each other in quick succession, so that, at
the end of the ten days, I was completely exhausted by dissipation. On
the eleventh day, I again bent my way to Saugar, to join the division.
My affectionate little partner accompanied me some miles on the road,
and would willingly have followed me to the field; but there are scenes
even on the line of march that must ever offend the eye of delicacy; and
I have always condemned the folly of those wives who have followed their
husbands to the field of battle. However ardent may be the affections of
such wives, the very act attaches to them want of delicacy: but what
will not woman do for the man she loves; she will even share with him
the cup of dishonour, and linger in his sight a short moment ere he is
plunged into eternity, to satisfy the offended laws of his country. Pity
it is either that women love so much, or that men deserve their love so
little! Dearly as I loved my wife, I could not expose her to the scenes
incident to an Indian encampment.
Having bidden her farewell, I started at speed, that I might not see her
again; yet I could not help stealing another last look, when I saw her
head was still turned towards me. I, would sooner go through the toils
of a campaign than suffer the heaviness I always experience at parting
with my family; but duty was my passport, and surmounted every
difficulty and obstacle, and in thirteen days I reached Saugar; but,
from being exposed to incessant rain, and afterwards to the scorching
sun, I had sown the seeds of a disease which nearly cost me my life,
though it was some time before it burst forth. It was supposed that the
division of the army to which I was attached, would be continued at this
station, for the purpose of watching the new-conquered provinces of
Saugar and Candish; so we began to build huts or asylums against the
winter, and we agreed to send for our wives—for what is man's life
debarred the pleasure of female society? Men are little better than
monsters without it. Wherever modest women are, there will always be a
becoming decorum and decency; but men, when long estranged from their
society, dwindle into gross habits; and the hilarity of an immodest
song, and the cup of inebriety, form their pleasures, and the summit of
their felicity. Our wives having been invited to join us, mine was the
first to set the example; and, although the journey was attended with
considerable danger, she reached me in four days, at the fort of Huttra,
whither I had proceeded to meet her. This personal risk, on her part, to
join me, could not but gratify my feelings and increase my love. In the
course of a month, ten ladies had arrived, and the little station was
the gayest of the gay. We generally met every day, either at dinner,
ball, or supper, and our hearts were as light as our pockets.
While we were at this station, there was a large monkey that was a
general nuisance, from the numerous robberies which he committed under
the dark mantle of night. He would pounce into shops, and would run off
with silks, satins, silver, gold, and indeed anything within his reach.
On one of these excursions, having taken a fancy to a shawl, he rushed
into the shop and grasped it; but the shawl being rather heavy and long,
it retarded his progress, and the master of the shop seized him by the
tail. He held fast, the monkey pulled; he called for help, the monkey
screamed; he kicked, the monkey bit. At last the owner of the shawl
seized the animal's tail with his grinders, and poor Jacko went off with
his prize, but minus some six inches of his tail. By the blood they
traced his steps to an old dilapidated mosque, where he was shot. Here
were found the spoils of many a midnight ramble, and which many an
honest neighbour laid under the stigma of having stolen. Such was the
power of this monkey, that he would have mastered many a man. These
animals, in India, I think are very sagacious and cunning, being petted
and fed by men, and frequently living in the houses of the Hindoos. I
recollect a young man, a cadet, who was proceeding up the river, and was
not accustomed to these creatures, incautiously shot one of the older
gentlemen out of several whom he saw. Even amongst these animals age is
honourable; they one, and all sallied out upon him, and he took to his
heels fast, throwing away his pouch, which was full of balls, shot, &c.
These they seized, and still pursued him, until he parted with his
shot-belt, and at last threw away his gun. As soon as they saw him
unarmed, they bit him terribly, and he escaped merely with life. The
boats to which he belonged were fortunately not far distant from him,
and from these a party was formed, who sallied out against his pursuers.
The first sight that presented itself was about a dozen hoary gentlemen
examining the contents of the shot-belt and pouch. Seeing themselves
overpowered, they wisely ran into the adjoining woods, taking with them
the pouch and shot-belt. The gun they declined having anything to do
with. I would caution young men proceeding up the river, to steer clear
of these artful and mischievous creatures.
In the midst of all our gaiety our little division was again put in
requisition, to proceed against the strong hill-fort of Asseerghur, some
three hundred miles from Saugar. The monsoons or rains had commenced,
and this sudden news distressed all the ladies exceedingly; but no
faint-hearted husband shammed sick to remain behind. In two or three
days we bade farewell to our fair spouses, and bent our way towards
Asseerghur. The weather was intensely hot, so much so, that in a large
double pool-tent, with tatties, or mats, suspended all round, made of
grass, and continually kept wet, the glass stood at mid-day, at 120 and
130, and, after a shower of rain, the earth was like a hotbed.
Notwithstanding this, we were obliged to proceed by forced marches, to
reach Asseerghur as soon as possible. Our force was not very large, but
our battering-train was considerable. The country in the immediate
vicinity of this fort is barren and desolate, infested with wild beasts
of every description, and many of our smaller cattle were carried away
at night by them. The forces of the other two Presidencies, Madras and
Bombay, had arrived before us, leaving a space for the Bengal division;
and a most dreary and barren spot it was. The earth was dried and
parched up, and nothing like vegetation could be seen except some
prickly bushes. Not a leaf or blade of grass condescended to smile upon
this spot. It was about a mile and a half from the fort, the gigantic
sides of which seemed, even at this distance, to hang over us. They were
really terrific even to look at; and, how we were to ascend such a
precipice would puzzle a wiser head than mine. We that morning
breakfasted with Major-General Doveton, commanding the whole of the
forces before Asseerghur; but, not having the least fancy to their
insipid dried fish and meats, we saved our appetites for our Bengal
luxuries, and made a hearty second breakfast on our return to our tents.
MADRAS, BENGAL AND BOMBAY NATIVE TROOPS OF SHIPP'S DAY.
From a Sketch taken at the time by the Earl of Munster.
The fort had been the property of Scindia, who had agreed to cede it to
the Company for some equivalent; but the governor had the impudence to
refuse to obey the orders of his master and the summons of the Company,
and to fire on the troops of both whenever they passed. This fellow
trusted, no doubt, to the supposed impracticability of the fort, and
therefore came to the resolution of keeping possession of it for
himself. The great natural strength of this hill seemed to defy the
combined power of the world. Human art and labour had also added to its
strength. The idea of ever being able to ascend such a place seemed
absurd and romantic, and to effect a breach would have been equally
impracticable. To mine it was beyond the power of human skill. From its
base to its summit was about two miles high, and, on a perpendicular
rock, from a hundred and fifty to two hundred feet high, stood strong
fortifications, with some very heavy cannon and ginjalls. In the centre
stood their grand mosque, with its two sharp spires pricking holes in
the clouds. At a considerable distance from this temple was a large
sheet of water, fed by a beautiful spring; and the troops could shelter
themselves from our shells in excavated rocks. The fort was about two
miles long, by three-quarters broad. On the south side was their
cuttrah, or walled town, and at the principal entrance above the town
innumerable underworks and bastions had been erected for its defence.
When the sun shed its bright beams on its gigantic and variegated sides,
it was truly beautiful. On the following morning I rose early to
accompany the general, who commenced his inspection of the spots pointed
out for our batteries. The top of the fort seemed entombed in the
slumbering clouds, and it was some time before they dispersed. The
position pointed out by the engineer, was upon a hill about two-thirds
of the way up the ascent to the perpendicular rock, and then our guns
were so elevated that we were obliged to sink the trail in the ground,
and, having but little or no room to recoil, they were much injured, and
we could do but little, if any good, except by knocking off the
defences. Indeed, success seemed out of the question, and the only
prospect we could foresee was to shell them into obedience. Our
shelling, therefore, went on systematically, and with great vigour.
One night, having dined with an officer of the Madras army, during the
time that we were before this place, and partaken rather too freely of
the Tuscan grape, I started towards home on my favourite mare, whose
speed not a horse in camp could equal, and lost my way. There was a
considerable space between the camp where I dined, and our own
encampment, the lights of which I thought I was standing fair for; but,
after riding a much greater distance than that between the two
encampments, and being in a thick jungle infested with tigers, I began
to reflect seriously on my situation, and for a moment I paused to
consider, under such circumstances, what was best to be done. How
short-sighted is mortal man! That brief moment had nearly been my last!
I had laid the reins of my mare over her neck, when in an instant she
gathered herself up, snorted, and wheeled right round. Fortunately for
me, I seized the mane, and, in an instant after, I saw, squatted down
and crouching to the ground, a huge tiger. To have run from him would
have been inevitable destruction. I therefore wheeled my mare round, and
pressed her on towards him, but she would not approach him. I had a pair
of loaded pistols in my holster-pipes. One of these I drew out,
resolving, however, not to throw away my fire. While endeavouring to
spur my mare on, and making all the noise I could, the ferocious animal
slunk off, to the great joy of both my mare and myself, and I was not
long before I reached my own tent.
I had some recollection of the place where this happened, as I always
made a point of making myself acquainted with the localities of the
encampment and its vicinity; so early the following morning I rode
towards the spot, which was not far from the road, and where I found
that the said tiger had feasted on a more delicious morsel—a nice
little ghinee (a small cow).
I would recommend to those who may chance to get into the vicinity of
such bad neighbours, never to run from them, but, if sufficient courage
can possibly be mustered, to run at them, or to stand and stare them
full in the face. A captain in the Company's service once told me, when
speaking of these savage beasts, that he was out shooting in some part
near Loodianah alone, and he had just discharged his last barrel at some
wild ducks, when a large tiger made his appearance. He had not time to
load again, but, for a time, stood his ground. He stared—the tiger
grinned, but did not seem inclined to come to the scratch. This said
captain, being a funny fellow, at last thought of a stratagem that was
likely to put his grinning neighbour to flight, which was by turning his
back to the animal, looking at him through his legs, and thus running
off backwards. He positively declared that, the moment the tiger saw
this strange metamorphosis, he took to his heels, and was out of sight
in an instant. I will not vouch for the verity of this tale, but I have
heard, since my arrival in England, that the same trick was actually
played on a savage mastiff belonging to a tan-yard, that would not
permit a stranger near the premises without tearing him to pieces, but
the moment he saw this curious figure he took refuge in a drying-house,
and for some time after on the least noise he would hide himself,
thinking, no doubt, it was his friend with his head between his legs
again. The reason on account of which I cannot take upon myself to vouch
for the veracity of my friend the captain, is this: I once tiffed in
company where this brave son of Mars was one of the party. The
conversation turned on the privations which soldiers and sailors are
frequently called on to endure. Some of the company said that, in the
course of their services, they had not tasted food for three days; some
mentioned a longer period. I said I did not believe that the system
could be sustained for more than seven days, if so long, without food or
some kind of sustenance. The captain, however, thought otherwise; and,
begging my pardon most politely, he protested that he had often, when in
the West Indies, lived himself for weeks without food; and that once,
for six months, he had nothing to eat but Cayenne pepper! This was
likely to be a hot man in dispute, so we left him in possession of the
field as well as of his story; and this is the reason why I would not
take upon me to vouch for the authenticity of his tiger adventure.
A few days after we had commenced the siege against this strong fort,
General Watson, commanding the Bengal division, came into my tent, and,
by the smile on his countenance, I could see he was much pleased. At
last he said, "Shipp, I have got some good news for you, which I am sure
will please you much." I replied, "General, good news is acceptable at
all times; what is it?"—"I have at last obtained permission," said the
general, "to lead in person my own column to the storm; and I am sure
you and Knollis will support me with your lives." I replied, "Whenever
my duty calls me, Sir, my life will be willingly risked in the service
of my country."—"I know it," said the general; "and, ere this day week,
I hope to plant Old England's banner higher on the tower of glory than
it ever has been. This fortification is, I believe, the highest in the
world, some fifteen hundred feet above the level of the plain." Some
short time after this the fort was surrendered, and the gallant general,
fortunately, still lives in the bosom of domestic bliss in his native
land. I say "fortunately," because, after the surrender of this strong
and impregnable fortress, it was deemed, by one and all, that it was
beyond the power of mortal ascent, and our beloved general must
infallibly have fallen a victim to his zeal. Many deeds of high daring
had marked the long and glorious career of this respected officer. He
had been in one corps (the 14th regiment) as subaltern and commander,
for the long period of three-and-thirty or four-and-thirty years,
without being a day absent from his duty; and he was universally beloved
for his urbanity and affability of manners. I should justly be accused
of ingratitude did I not take this opportunity of returning him my most
heartfelt thanks for his uniform generosity and disinterested friendship
to me, displayed on numberless occasions.
After shelling almost incessantly for several days, a great number of
the men in the fort were killed in going for water, which was about a
hundred yards from their hiding-places, and these became so offensive
that the garrison persuaded the keeledar to give up the fort as a
hopeless business. To this the keeledar, who was a most dastardly
coward, readily consented; for which purpose he dispatched a messenger
to say, that if he would cease shelling he would come to some amicable
arrangement. Our officers, foreseeing the total impossibility of our
success, complied in some slight degree, stipulating that they would
cease firing for a few hours. This was calculated to impress the
garrison with a conviction, that a further resistance on their part in
withholding the fort, would be only seeking their own destruction, and
imbruing their hands in their own blood; and that, as the English were
now inclined to be merciful, under the supposition that the garrison had
been seduced to disaffection by some artful rebel, it would be better
for them at once to surrender. The message returned by our commander was
that if they were sincere in their wish to give up the fort
unconditionally, firing for the present, from the shelling-batteries
only, would cease; and that, if the terms were not accepted, they would
re-commence with redoubled force. It was further agreed that one more
parley would be attended to. The messenger departed, and orders were
dispatched to the shelling-batteries to cease till further orders.
Natives, speaking of the height of this place, say that "none but the
crafty hawk, high lingering over his prey, or the morning lark, sweetly
soaring and singing over its young, could ever see the inside of
Asseerghur."
Some few days before our arrival, the cuttrah had been stormed and taken
by a division of the Bombay army, under the command of Colonel Frazer,
of the Royal Scots; but they found the detention of their little
conquered town warm work, it being so completely commanded, that every
street could be raked by the firing from the fort. Some part of the
upper-works of the fort were within three hundred yards of the town. Our
soldiers were obliged, therefore, to seek shelter in the temples and
huts. If they had not had the opportunity of retiring to these places,
the town would not have been tenable. Those who were obliged, in the
course of duty, to run from one place to another, had, the moment they
were observed, a hundred shots at them. The enemy, with some reason,
conceived that this occupation of the town was but a preparatory step to
an entry by escalade into their fort. They, therefore, had a strong
party constantly on the look-out for the opportunity of destroying all
whom they could attack, either by surprise or stratagem. Soldiers are
prone to look about them, and many of them will, in spite of all risks,
go in search of plunder. Some of our troops, on this occasion, paid
dearly for their disobedience of orders and violation of military laws.
The principal post held by our troops in this town, was a large mosque
or temple, of which the officers occupied one side, and the soldiers the
other. One by one the men stole off in search of plunder. The enemy,
having observed this, rushed on the remaining few, and the brave colonel
was killed in defending himself against unequal numbers. On the return
of these soldiers to their deserted post, what must have been their
mortification and panic to find their brave colonel butchered, through
their neglect and disobedience of all orders, and their poor wounded
comrades, who but an hour before had shared with them in glory,
weltering in their blood! What could have equalled their anguish, if
their minds had not sunk below the ebb of feeling? Young soldiers, let
this be a warning to you. It is but one instance, out of a great number
within my own knowledge, of the fatal effects of breach of discipline.
Whatever may be your prospect of gain, never be seduced to leave your
post. You are, by such transgression, guilty of three prominent offences
against the Articles of War: leaving your post before an enemy—death;
abandoning your officer—death; plundering—death. There is scarcely a
section in the Articles of War that does not touch this crime.

CHAPTER XXIII
Ten o'clock came, but no messenger from the fort. A little time was
given, and the shelling-batteries did not re-commence till nearly eleven
o'clock; but when they did the top of the hill became one entire mass of
smoke and fire, and thus it continued till the afternoon, when a
messenger at length made his appearance, and informed the general that
the keeledar would be down immediately to ratify the treaty and give up
the fort. For this purpose the shelling was again stopped, and at about
two o'clock the keeledar began to descend in a palanquin, with three or
four followers. All the general and staff-officers in camp were directed
to assemble for the purpose of meeting this rebellious chief. General
Doveton's tent was the place of rendezvous. On the way to this tent the
people appointed to escort the keeledar took him through our park of
artillery, where there were some fifty guns, besides those then in use.
This keeledar was a most unseemly-looking man; a great fat buffalo of a
fellow, with enormous flitches of fat hanging over his hips. He was also
excessively dirty in his person and dress, and looked as if he had just
been turned out of an oil-shop. He entered the tent with all the
impudence of a nawab, chewing paun, and as though he was fully prepared
to receive a welcome greeting. In this he was disappointed. He was
desired to be seated, but his reception was cool and distant, and the
knitted brow of Major-General Sir John Malcolm, the political agent for
the government, portended no very flattering entertainment. When the
whole were seated, Sir John broke silence, by stating "that the British
army had no time to lose in unnecessary parley, and that, therefore, any
argument of his would be waste of words, and unavailing, as nothing
would suffice but the unconditional surrender of the fort to the troops
of his government, and that he should, in his person, answer to his
master, Scindia, for his rebellion and disloyalty." Here the fat
keeledar began to gather himself up into speaking order, and at last
mumbled out, that he was surprised that a person so well conversant with
the Eastern customs and usages of war should propose such a thing as
laying down their arms, as Sir John must know, that a rajah-poot would
sooner suffer ten thousand deaths than be deprived of his arms. He
concluded by protesting that for him to attempt to enforce such a thing
would be endangering his own life. Sir John replied that he did well
know the customs of the country and the characters of rajah-poot
soldiers; but the keeledar must keep in view that these were terms
offered to rebels, whose heads were the just forfeit of their
disobedience and rebellion, and that, therefore, if they persisted in
their rebellion, he should not advise the government to mitigate the
penalty a single jot, but to hang every one of them. This was pronounced
with some degree of displeasure, and the man of fat, not doubting in the
least that of course he was included in the number to be hanged, began
to quake for fear. He turned round and reflected for some time, his eye
fixed on the dark and displeased countenance of Sir John Malcolm. At
last he repeated that he dared not propose such terms to the garrison.
"But," added he with the greatest effrontery and impudence, his villany
suddenly bursting forth, while he at the same time "grinned horribly a
ghastly smile," "could you not promise them their arms and property,
and, when they are fairly out, pounce upon them and take them from
them?"
General Doveton, Sir John Malcolm, and half-a-dozen brigadiers, at this
diabolical proposition rose simultaneously, and I really thought Sir
John would have jumped down the rascal's throat, or have cut him to
pieces on the spot, as he warmly replied, "Rebel! what grounds have you
for supposing that the English could ever stoop to commit such an act of
infamy? Can you, or any native of India, adduce a single instance of our
government's having ever acted so treacherous and cowardly a part? No,
miscreant; were your fort ten thousand times as strong, and ten thousand
times as high as it is, we will either take it or level it with the
plain. I cannot imagine how you have dared to make such an offer before
these gentlemen. It would serve you right to cleave you to the ground
for such an insult, and we can only treat such a proposition as arising
from the baseness of your own heart. I desire that you will this moment
return to your fort, and dare not again to insult this assembly with
your vile propositions. Go and fight your fort, and we will soon force
you to do what we now in pity offer. Go this moment, or I will give
directions for the shelling to commence." Upon this the man of
Lambertian breed began to shake in a frightful manner; but at last he
said, "I am out of danger, and will keep so; I will not return to the
fort to be killed." Sir John replied, "But you shall, if I am obliged to
carry you on my back." One of the officers present—I think General
Watson—observed, "Then, Sir John, you would indeed have a load of
infamy on your shoulders, that you could not easily shake off."
The keeledar, finding that he had gone his length, began now to smooth a
little, and said that he would endeavour to induce the garrison to give
up their arms, but that he dreaded the result. I caught his deep sunk
eye, which beamed forth the most malevolent malice and hatred. I could
see an innate working of revenge in his soul; but he at last said he
would guarantee to give up the fort by ten o'clock the following day,
upon the terms of unconditional surrender. To this he pledged his word,
and offered to ratify the treaty under his hand and seal.
After much consultation, and apparent reluctance on our part, it was
agreed that we would accept of the surrender, but with this
proviso—that, if they did not march out by the hour agreed on, the
negotiation should be considered as entirely closed, and that no further
proposition would be listened to.
The keeledar then left the tent in sore displeasure, and rolled into his
palanquin. Sir John Malcolm was as good as his word, for he saw him to
the very entrance of his fort. Multitudes assembled to meet their
infamous and treacherous governor; but what could they possibly expect
from such a man? If he would rebel against his government, would he not
deceive his garrison? A soldier doing the former is capable of
committing any other crime, however enormous it may be. This fellow
returned to his garrison and told them that he had frightened the
English to grant them their arms, their property, and everything they
wished. Under these terms the whole garrison actually marched out with
their property, arms, &c., and rendezvoused under the hill, where we had
a strong party ready to march in. They were in number about seven or
eight hundred, poor half-starved-looking creatures, and some of them
almost naked. Sir John, having severely admonished them for their
rebellious conduct, desired them to ground their arms and property. The
infamy of the keeledar then came out; and, but for the interference of
our troops, his men would have torn him to pieces. When he was asked if
he had really held out those promises as from us, he laughingly replied,
"I had no other method of getting them out, and I was not fool enough to
remain in that fort to have my brains blown out. They are now in your
power; do what you please with them. I have done my part; now do yours."
The keeledar was immediately placed in confinement, and Sir John thus
addressed the wretched-looking creatures who had constituted the
garrison:—"I have every reason to believe that you came out under the
idea that you should keep your arms and little property, and with the
understanding that this indulgence had been granted by the English. No
such thing was ever promised by us, nor could a rebellious garrison
expect such an indulgence from the government, when death alone was the
penalty of such conduct; but as you have been deceived by your base
keeledar, into a belief that such terms were offered by us, and have
surrendered the fort under this confident expectation, we will not
enforce the terms insisted on through your treacherous keeledar, but
permit you to depart as you are. You may therefore go, and I would
advise you to retire quietly to your homes, and there to make your peace
with your justly-offended master, Scindia."
This party was escorted some miles from camp, and the keeledar was sent
a prisoner to his master; but what became of him I never heard. There
can be little doubt, however, that his refusing to give up this fort was
by positive instructions received from Scindia himself, who was closely
connected with the conspiracy formed against the British government,
during the Pindaree campaign; but the presence of the Marquis of
Hastings, with the centre division of the grand army, under the very
walls of his capital, kept that combined conspiracy from breaking forth.
From the tremendous height of this fort, the shelling at night was truly
splendid and magnificent. I have seen ten and fifteen shells soaring in
the air together, and, from the extreme height from which they were
obliged to be thrown, they looked like falling stars. When they burst,
the report below was like thunder.
Thus ended the campaign of 1818-19, and we had no occasion to complain
of not having had the honour of storming the fort of Asseerghur, as all
the guns in the world could never have effected a breach. Where we did
attempt a breach, our twenty-four-pound balls only served to knock off
little bits of the more prominent and projecting rocks, and to make the
ascent more difficult and formidable, by removing the very pieces of
rock by which we had a chance of ascent. The part which we attempted to
breach was a kind of nook, which had the appearance of once having been
a waterfall. I am confident, if we had battered at it till doomsday, we
never could get up; and, even if we could, a dozen old women might have
killed us every one by rolling down stones upon us. I therefore think it
a most fortunate event that this fort was given up without being
stormed, and I certainly may be considered as speaking feelingly on this
subject, for, my gallant general having volunteered (being the oldest
colonel in camp) to lead in his own column, it is not very probable that
I should have left him alone to find his way to the breach. Often when I
viewed this spot, did I think, "Here ends my career;" and so strong was
this impression on my mind, that I began to fix my eye on some little
romantic spot where I should like to be interred, should I have here
ended my days; for I was convinced of the total impossibility of
success. I began to arrange my papers, and had fully made up my mind to
end my career, as I had commenced it, in the field of glory. But I had a
wife—ay, and a fond wife too, which reflection much embittered the
prospect before me. Had I been without this tie, it would have been my
heart's first choice to have ended my days in the service of my country.
When I say this, I am far from pretending that I had any particular wish
to die; but had it been my fate, I would, from choice, sooner have made
my exit fighting for my country's liberty and glory, than on the downy
bed; but Providence has ordered it otherwise.
In the afternoon we went to examine the fort; and every step I took more
thoroughly convinced me of the utter impossibility of any earthly power
ever taking it by storm. I was obliged to halt a dozen times in
ascending, quite at my leisure, towards the grand entrance. By the time
I reached the gate I was completely exhausted, and I was ten minutes in
getting to the top. If we had stormed this place, it would, beyond
question, have been the grave of hundreds. On the walls were huge
stones, piled up for our destruction, some of them weighing two or three
hundred-weight, which a child might have pushed off. When once up, the
eye extended along a considerable level plain, on which were fields,
woods, and gardens. In the centre was a large tank of water, as clear as
crystal, but purple streams of blood lingered on its margins and banks.
Many dead bodies lay by the side of this tank. Some of them must have
been shot in the very act of drinking. The stench was dreadful. Their
sacred temple was contaminated and defiled with every kind of dirt and
filth, and their gods wore marks of disfigurement from our shells. One
had lost a head, but which, by the by, he could well spare, as he had a
dozen. In one of the excavations of the rock was discovered a woman
lying dead, with a dead infant in her arms. She was seated on a large
stone, with her right side reclining on another rock or side of the
excavation. Her left hand grasped the child round the body, and on her
right reclined her head. The head of the infant, which I should suppose
was about a year old, hung over her right knee. The woman had not a
bruise about her; but it was supposed she had fled there from those
destructive instruments of death, the shells. Near her lay several dead
and mutilated bodies, in a state of putrefaction. She was a young woman
about twenty, and well dressed. On inquiry among the prisoners, we
learned that her husband had been killed by one of our first shells, and
thrown into the very hole near which she was found, but it was not known
whether she had followed him there, or whether she died before him; for
the soldiers were so panic-struck that they could not directly answer
the most simple question. Behind the temple lay a headless trunk. We
understood that this was the body of the head priest of the said temple;
that he was boasting of his being proof against anything that could be
hurled against him by his hated foe; and, as we were informed by a
surviving mendicant, scarcely had the superstitious words escaped his
mouth, than he fell, a headless body, to the ground. His head, we were
told, was found some yards from the spot where he lay. We immediately
went in search of it, and found it eleven paces from the body, but not a
human feature was left. The face was literally torn to pieces. To sketch
the horrible scenes that presented themselves would fill a volume. I
shall mention but one more; a shell had burst between a man's legs, and
had literally split him up to the neck.
The large masses of congealed blood, seen at almost every step between
the temple and tank, were convincing proofs that the loss of life must
have been very great; but most of the dead bodies had been thrown over
the walls, to find their way to the bottom of some excavated rock or
tiger's den. The place altogether exhibited nothing but signs of poverty
and distress, and they must have been, after the loss of the town,
literally in a state of starvation. From this eminence the prospect was
extensive and truly beautiful. The city of Borhanpore was plainly
visible; and, although fourteen miles distant, such was the height of
this place, that it seemed almost to hang over it. Men in the several
encampments looked like babes. When the evening closed in, I found the
atmosphere chilly and cold. This soon sent us down to the warmer regions
below, where the glass, at the cool of eve, stood at eighty-five, and
sometimes at ninety. The height of the thermometer at that hour, when
the evening breeze is cool and salubrious, was no doubt occasioned by
the great heat absorbed by the earth during the day. In India, it is
quite common to inhale the sweet and refreshing breeze of eve, when,
under foot, the ground is like a hotbed. The soil here was a kind of
glittering red sand, and in some places rocky; and we were not at all
sorry that we were about to leave it.

CHAPTER XXIV — FOOTNOTES:
The combined army was now on the point of marching from Asseerghur,
after the cession of that fortress.
We bent our way once more towards cantonments, accompanying Sir John
Malcolm to his new station of Mhow, for the purpose of visiting the
celebrated cities of Indore and Ougein. This was some miles out of our
direct route; but no traveller ought to pass such places without viewing
the splendour and magnificence of ancient architecture for which those
two cities are celebrated. A careful survey of such places will well
compensate the traveller for going out of his way; feed his astonished
mind with contemplation for years to come; and impress him with the
conviction, that the system of architecture in Europe, in comparison
with that of the East, is but in its infancy.
The approach towards Mhow is very difficult and fatiguing. One ghaut
which we were necessarily obliged to ascend was frightful even to look
at. The road had been scooped out from the side of the hill, which from
its base was almost perpendicular, and seemed to defy mortal ascent.
When I arrived at the bottom, I saw elephants, camels, and horses, men,
women, and children, that seemed hanging on the projecting bosom of the
flinty rock, or suspended from the clouds. When the elephants had
reached the summit, they looked like small ponies, and the men like
little dark specks in the sky. About two hundred yards from the top was
a strong gateway, and two large bastions, for the protection of this
pass into Holkar's provinces. Upon the hill was a strong stone-built
fort, belonging to that chieftain, which was well filled with guns and
men. This hill, from its base to its summit, is more than two miles.
There are several wells during the ascent, for the accommodation of
travellers, fed by springs hewn out of the solid rock. It is a good
day's march to complete the ascent of this hill; and how cattle get up,
with their enormous loads on their backs, is to the spectator wonderful
to behold. Nothing of moment occurred on the journey, save some broken
shins and knees; and, for three days after this trip, I was so stiff
that I could scarcely move. We encamped on the top of this hill, and the
view from its summit comprised an extent of at least fifty miles. The
people below seemed of another world. In the lowlands the atmosphere was
intensely hot and sultry; but upon the hill it was pure, cool, and
salubrious, so that we seemed quite in another country. When we again
set out on our journey, we travelled about a hundred miles without again
descending. The whole of this distance the country was one general flat,
and we did not find any descent till we got near Callenger, where the
ghaut is nearly as high.
In two days more we reached the new station of Mhow, the residence of
Sir John Malcolm, with whom we spent two pleasant days. Sir John was as
hospitable as he was brave, and his tables groaned under the luxuries of
the season. He possesses a profundity of wit; so that, wherever he is,
the whole company are sure to be on the broad grin. I should recommend
all people subject to liver complaints to pay Sir John a visit, if
opportunity favours them, and I would wager ten to one that, in one
month, he would laugh most of them out of their complaints. I was myself
suffering under a violent attack when I was his guest, and the smallest
motion, more particularly that caused by laughter, was attended with
most excruciating pain; but our host could almost make a dead man laugh.
The consequence was, that I laughed to some purpose, for I actually got
rid of my complaint. Sir John generally made it a point of getting me
close to him. He said to me one morning, "Shipp, did I ever tell you the
story of my being invited to breakfast off a dead colonel?" I answered,
"No, Sir John; nor are my poor sides in a state to hear it."—"Oh, but I
must tell you: it's rather a serious story than otherwise." Finding
there was no escape, I put both my hands to my sides (a necessary
precaution to prevent them from bursting) and listened attentively. Sir
John had a peculiar manner of relating anecdotes, which, for effect, I
have never seen equalled; and a sort of squeaking voice, in which he
generally spoke, especially when pleased, added greatly to the drollery
of his stories. "I was invited to breakfast," said Sir John, "with a
queer old colonel of the Bombay Artillery. This colonel was famous for
giving good breakfasts, so I accepted his invitation, and went to his
residence rather early, where I walked without ceremony into the
breakfast-room. It is customary in India, when breakfast-things are
laid, to throw a table-cloth over the whole, to keep the flies off. I
thought it strange that I did not see a single servant; but I walked up
and down the room, very contentedly, for nearly a quarter of an hour. At
last I got quite hungry, so I thought I would help myself to a biscuit.
For this purpose, I lifted the end of the cloth, and the first object
that met my eye was—the colonel's head!" Just at this instant Sir John
Malcolm struck me a violent blow on the shoulders, which so startled me,
that I really thought the dead colonel was on my back. From that time,
however, I lost all symptoms of the liver complaint.
After a short time our generous entertainer good-naturedly accompanied
us to Indore, where the British resident, Mr. Wellesley, treated us in a
most splendid and hospitable manner. He took us to visit the court of
young Holkar, who, a short time before, had rebelled against the
government, in consequence of which his troops had been dreadfully cut
up at Mahidpoor, so that we could not expect a very cordial greeting.
We, however, all proceeded thither, mounted on elephants, and we were
received at the outer gates, by the junior officers of Holkar's court,
rather coolly. Here we dismounted, and in the inner court we were met by
some officers of higher rank, by whom we were conducted to a long room,
on which was spread a clean white cloth, with innumerable pillows and
cushions for the purpose of lounging on. Young Holkar rose on the
entrance of the resident, and we all in our turn had a hug at him. He
was a dirty-looking boy, about thirteen years of age, shabbily dressed,
and who, it was said, has never been known to laugh out. After the usual
greeting, and sprinkling of scents, we could see his rancour working
within him. It was Sir John who had given his troops such a drubbing,
and he could not, even on this occasion, conceal the hatred that rankled
in his heart towards the English. The recollection of the disastrous
defeat of his troops rushed across his mind, no doubt, the moment he saw
Sir John Malcolm, and it left evident traces on his features, that
indicated the most malevolent feelings towards his visitors. It appeared
to be with difficulty that he could behave with decent civility; but,
from fear of offending the British resident, he was compelled, with his
courtiers and ministers, to affect a cordiality which he did not feel.
Sir John Malcolm, however, soon disturbed their ceremonious gravity,
which he converted into peals of laughter, so that the room resounded
with shouts of merriment; and the before frowning rajah, who was reputed
unable to laugh, actually threw himself on his back, and laughed most
lustily. It was a considerable time before we could re-establish order;
after which, an interesting conversation took place, which was followed
by the distribution of presents, in which the young rajah was liberal,
and we broke up much more friendly than we had met. We all returned to
the resident's house, to a most splendid dinner.
On the following morning we bade farewell to our hospitable friends, Sir
John Malcolm and Mr. Wellesley, and bent our way towards Ougein by
forced marches, to make up for the time we had spent at Mhow and Indore.
The Bengal division did not return with us, but went the direct road to
Saugar, where they arrived some days before us. In two days we reached
Ougein, and encamped in a small tope of trees, about a mile from the
city, which is situated on the banks of the river Scend, opposite to
which are the beautiful and extensive gardens, once the favourite resort
of Scindia, but which, of late years, he has not visited. The once
splendid palace of this ancient city has been actually permitted to
tumble to pieces, and this seat of oriental magnificence may now be said
to be the habitation of snakes, scorpions, and every kind of reptiles.
The beautiful pleasure-grounds are still kept in some kind of order, as
they are the haunts of mendicant priests, who willingly sojourn here,
and by whom these gardens are considered as a holy place of worship. In
the morning the rippling stream of the Scend is crowded with these
Brahmin priests, sanctifying their hoary heads, as they suppose, with
the pure waters of this fair and sparkling stream, and offering worship
to their gods.
In the course of the afternoon we visited the old city, that had been
buried by an earthquake. We could distinctly see tops of temples, trees,
and houses, and there are still many wide and yawning excavations in the
earth. At the extreme end of this old town stands the palace, in a state
of dilapidation and decay. Some few priests reside in what was once the
zenanah, the lower apartments of which run into the gliding stream of
the Scend, and are washed by this beautiful river passing through them.
Here we bathed, to the great annoyance and mortification of the priests
who resided there, who did not fail to tell us in plain terms, that we
had contaminated and polluted the sacred stream.
We next visited the subterraneous passage which was reported to reach
from Ougein to the city of Benares, some two thousand miles! We
commenced our exploration of this place by candle-light, and every ten
yards descended into rooms almost square, till the place became so damp
and chilly, that we were induced to return; but, even from the short
distance we had accomplished, we could easily discover that it led to
the palace, which stood about a quarter of a mile from it, and had no
doubt been a secret passage to the zenanah, for some nefarious purpose.
These subterraneous passages to the palaces of the great must have been
designed for purposes dark as they are mysterious; and, could these dark
and lonely cells but speak, I fear they would tell many a woful tale.
Over the mouth, or entrance, of this subterraneous passage, was a kind
of old gateway, and on its still tottering towers were sculptured many
tales of wonder, as false as they were strange. Wishing to see
everything worth beholding, we commenced our march, by descending three
or four steps into a square room, that was perfectly green from the damp
vapour rising from the ground. In one corner of this room, which was
about six feet square, we discovered a wrinkled old man reposing on some
ashes, his hair white and his beard of great length. He viewed us with
the eye of a lynx, and, having bid us the usual greeting of the morning,
he at the same time sat up, and, assuming a considerable degree of
self-consequence, he demanded where we were going, from whence we came,
and what were our intentions. I was appointed interpreter, and I replied
that we wished to see this wonderful subterraneous passage. He replied,
"Yes, wonderful indeed! two thousand miles dug out of the bowels of the
earth by manual labour, and which cost as much money as would purchase
another world; but," continued he, "where are your provisions—your
oil—your Koran? If you wish to explore this great wonder of man's
power, you surely would not attempt it without first invoking Almighty
aid! The journey is long, dangerous, and tedious."—"How far, then,"
said I, "does the excavation extend, that so many precautions are
required?"—"To the famous city of Benares," replied he. "There may be
found, though scarcely known to mortal man, the other entrance. This is
as true as it appears wonderful to you who are unacquainted with these
hidden mysteries. If you doubt my assertion, go on, and your own eyes
will convince you of the truth of what I have told you." We proceeded
through some three or four rooms, descending two or three steps down to
each, till a chilly dampness told us to return. We did so, and, not
wishing to offend old grey-beard by evincing any disbelief of what we
had heard, we gave him a few rupees, which he seized with all the
avidity of a miser. His cunning eye sparkled again when he found the
rupees within his grasp, and he bowed to the ground in token of thanks.
He told us many stories, as wonderful as they were false: amongst the
rest, the following:—That some of his holy sect (Brahmins) had, a short
period before, attempted to explore this passage; but, when they had
proceeded about half way, some of them died. The others consulted
whether it was more prudent to proceed to the accomplishment of their
design, or at once return, while it was certain that their oil and
provisions would last them. They agreed to return, and they reached the
spot from which they had first started, after an absence of some months.
The hoary-headed mendicant told this barefaced falsehood with all the
solemnity of truth, and confirmed it by emphatically calling on his
Maker to witness his assertion. We did not think it prudent to dispute
his word till we were fairly out of his clutches; but, just as we were
about to take our departure, I told him that what he had asserted was
nothing but a delusion to exact money from the English traveller, and
that we could plainly see, from the nature of the passage, that it was a
secret inlet to the great palace, for some dark and murderous purpose.
This he denied with all the effrontery of which these people are
capable, and we parted on no very friendly terms. This same old fellow
accounted for the earthquake having visited the city of Ougein in the
following happy manner. He said that a white man had sojourned there
some three or four years, subsisting on the gifts of the benevolent. "He
spoke fluently all the Oriental tongues, was affable, and became
generally esteemed. Having accumulated some money, he built a little
temple, and, in two or three years, gained a considerable number of
converts to his religion, and became so powerful in his arguments, and
so persuasive in his discourses, that the Brahmin priests held a
consultation. The result of this meeting was never published, for it was
on that day—that long-to-be-remembered day—that the great visitation
overtook this city, engulfing myriads of its inhabitants. This was a
mark of their god's displeasure for permitting this ancient city to be
defiled by the erection of a Christian temple. The temple was wholly
swallowed up; but, Sir, strange to say, some one short minute before
this, the white man had gone to a small school in a distant village, and
escaped the catastrophe. On the same eve, however, he disappeared, and
naught has been heard of him since that day—a day registered in blood
in the annals of this ancient city."
We visited every place about Ougein worth seeing, and in the evening
returned to our tents, where our hospitable general had, as usual,
provided a sumptuous dinner, with every luxury of the season. On the
following morning we stood towards Saugar, viâ Bopaul and Belsah, old
Pindaree haunts; but nothing of moment occurred on the road, save that
some of our servants lost their way in the night, and were never more
heard of by us. There can be little doubt that they had fallen victims
to banditti, for which this part of the country is notorious.
We soon arrived safe at Saugar, where we were met with open arms by our
affectionate wives. At this station all was now merriment and joy. Such
is the life of a soldier! He no sooner furls his victorious banner, and
sheaths his blood-stained sabre in the scabbard of peace, than, amid the
revels of the fascinating and the gay, or in the more calm, but far
sweeter enjoyment of domestic felicity, he loses all thought of
"grim-visaged war."
I was blessed with a most affectionate partner, who shared in all my
joys, and soothed me under all my sorrows. Her fond epistles to me, when
in the field, were filled with expressions of pity for the poor deluded
creatures with whom we were at war. She was the pillar of my best hopes;
my bright star of happiness; my monitor in the hour of peril, and my
sure refuge in distress. She had but one fault—that she doted where she
should but have loved.
But, quitting recollections which, from subsequent events, have been
rendered painful to me, perhaps the insertion of the following account
of the extraordinary evidence given by an Irish sergeant before a
court-martial may be tolerated, if only in consideration of its being
the last of my Irish anecdotes.
President.—Well, sergeant, recollect you are upon your oath to speak
the truth, and nothing but the truth, so help you God. State what you
know touching the crime against the prisoner.
Sergeant.—I will, your honour. The other morning, when I was fast
asleep on my cot, with my eyes open, I heard the prisoner there himself
say to Patrick Gaffy, in a whisper—and sure I could tell his voice a
mile off if I could hear him—that he would never rest day or night till
he had kilt and murdered Corporal Ragon, becase he was always down upon
him, and he would never let him alone besides.
President.—You have a strange way, sergeant, in giving your evidence:
you say that you heard the prisoner, when you were asleep, tell Patrick
Gaffy, in a whisper, that he would kill Corporal Ragon. Mind what you
are about, Sir.
Sergeant.—A whisper, your honour! Fait, but it was such a whisper as
you might have heard, if you had been on the look-out, all over the
barrack, with your eyes shut.
President.—But you say that you were asleep?
Sergeant.—So I was, your honour; but the noise waked me; and I shut
my eyes so that I might be sure I heard him.
President.—Can you hear in your sleep?
Sergeant.—Fait, can I. About a month ago, I was as sound as a
mackerel, when, sure enough, I heard a man calling me by my name; and,
when I opened my eyes, I saw him standing by my bedside, and he said he
had been calling me for a long time.
President.—Perhaps you can see in your sleep also?
Sergeant.—By the powers, your honour, you may say that; for the other
morning I catched myself at that self-same thing.
President.—How was that, sergeant?
Sergeant.—Fait! the other morning, when I was fast asleep, I felt my
eyes, and found them wide awake.
President.—Probably you can always hear in your sleep?
Sergeant.—Not when my eyes are shut, your honour; for then I am quite
deaf.
President.—Do you ever walk in your sleep?
Sergeant.—Never, your honour, after I lay down; but I did once, when
a boy.
President.—Which you perfectly recollect, of course?
Sergeant.—Yes, your honour: I shall never forget it, because I have
good cause to remember it.
President.—What may that be, sergeant?
Sergeant.—Why, your honour, I was about ten years old when I walked
in my sleep, and I found myself wide awake in a horse-pond that stood
near my father's house.
Member.—Well, but you said at the commencement of your evidence, that
you were asleep, and heard the prisoner now before the court make use of
the threat towards Corporal Ragon.
Sergeant.—Fait! did I, on my oath, and that's no lie, either.
Member.—Clearly and distinctly heard the identical words?
Sergeant.—Clear as mud, your honour.
Member.—Yet you say the words were given in a whisper?
Sergeant.—Yes, your honour, but it was so loud, there were several
men besides me who heard it, that were asleep at the same time, and not
so near as I was, becase they slept at the other side of the barrack.
President.—You must either be a confounded oaf, or you wish to impose
upon the court. Take care you do not yourself become a prisoner and be
tried before this very court for perjury. I suppose you mean to say that
the prisoner's talking awoke you?
Sergeant.—Fait! that's the very thing.
President.—Then you heard the expressions after you awoke?
Sergeant.—Fait! I did.
President.—They were spoken quite loud?
Sergeant.—- They were, your honour.
President.—Your evidence is most extraordinary. Prisoner, have you
any questions to put to this witness?
Prisoner.—Yes, if you plase, your honour. Where was I standing when
you heard me make use of the words you have been after mintioning to the
court?
Sergeant.—Behind the pillar in the barrack.
Prisoner.—Did you see me at the time?
Sergeant.—Fait! did I, plain enough.
President.—What do you suppose was the distance of this pillar from
you, sergeant?
Sergeant.—About twelve feet, your honour.
President.—You must have pretty good hearing, then, to hear a man
whisper at that distance.
Sergeant.—The divel better hearing in the world.
President—How far, now, do you think you could hear a gunshot?
Sergeant.—Ten miles off, if I was near enough.
President.—You stupid fellow, if the sound reaches you, you must
hear.
Sergeant.—Yes, your honour, but I meant that if I was wide awake I
could hear a gun ten miles off, if the report was loud enough. I heard
the guns at Vittoria when my eyes were shut and I was twenty miles off.
President.—If I could suppose for a moment that your extraordinary
evidence proceeded from any other motive than utter ignorance, I would
this moment try, break, and flog you; but granting that your testimony
proceeds entirely from that channel, you are no longer fit for a
non-commissioned officer, and I shall speak to the commanding-officer to
reduce you.
The prisoner was released, and the proceedings terminated. It appeared
afterwards, that all the witness meant to say was, that he was awake,
but had his eyes shut, when the prisoner made use of the words alluded
to.
We did not remain at Saugar for above a month, after which the division
of the army to which I was attached was ordered to be broken up, and I
proceeded to rejoin my own corps at Cawnpore. This was in July, 1819;
from which period to the beginning of the year 1821, my time was spent
in domestic quiet, in the performance of the station-duties of my
profession, and in social intercourse with my brother officers. About
this period I was raised to the rank of lieutenant, and, to add to the
happiness which I then enjoyed, on the 22nd of March, 1821, I became a
father by the birth of a little boy. Little did I then think that this
blessing was the forerunner of much evil to me and mine; but just at this
crisis I entered into an agreement with the late Lieutenant-Colonel,
then Major, Browne, to run, in partnership with him, at the ensuing
Cawnpore races. My father-in-law being then in a bad state of health,
and just about to leave India, I obtained leave of absence for six
months, and accompanied him to Calcutta. Here I was to purchase certain
horses, &c., for the races; and the circumstances connected with this
unfortunate racing transaction led ultimately to a court-martial, the
sentence of which was as follows:
"The court, having maturely weighed and considered the evidence for and
against the prisoner, together with what he has urged in his defence,
is of opinion that he is guilty of both the charges preferred against
him, which being in breach of the Articles of War, it does sentence
him, Lieutenant John Shipp, of his Majesty's 87th regiment, to be
discharged his Majesty's service.
"Approved and confirmed,
(Signed) "Edward Paget,
"General, Commander-in-Chief."
Attached to the sentence was the following recommendation of the
court:—
"The court having performed a painful but imperative duty, in
finding the prisoner guilty, beg respectfully, though earnestly, to
recommend him to the clemency of his excellency the
commander-in-chief. In presuming to express a wish that mercy may be
extended to the present case, the court are impressed with a hope
that the gallantry so frequently displayed by the prisoner, the
numerous wounds he has received, and the high and apparently merited
character which he has hitherto borne, will appear to his excellency
sufficient grounds for the court's thus warmly interesting
themselves in the prisoner's fate, and urging with anxious
solicitude the present recommendation.
"Before closing their proceedings, the court deem it a justice due
to Lieutenant-Colonel Browne, to express their opinion that his
conduct, as far as it has come before them, has been honourable to
himself and indulgent towards the prisoner."
Remarks by the Commander-in-Chief.
"Lieutenant Shipp has thus, by his persevering resistance to the
advice of his late most respected commanding-officer, of the general
of his division, and of the commander-in-chief, brought upon himself
the heavy penalty of the forfeiture of his commission. Although
these are circumstances calculated greatly to aggravate the offences
of this officer, still the commander-in-chief is willing to hope
that, in yielding, as far as he feels it is consistent with his
duty, to the earnest intercession of the court, he runs no risk of
shaking the foundations of discipline and subordination. The
sentence of the court is accordingly remitted; but as, under all the
circumstances of the case, the commander-in-chief deems it quite
impossible that Lieutenant Shipp should continue to do duty with the
87th regiment, he grants him leave of absence from it, and shall
recommend that he be removed to the half-pay list.
"The foregoing orders to be entered in the General Order-Book, and
read at the head of every regiment in his Majesty's service in India.
"By order of his Excellency the Commander-in-Chief,
(Signed)"Thomas M'Mahon,
(A true copy.)"Colonel, Adjutant-General."
"J Bowes, Lieutenant and Adjutant,
87th Regiment."
On the tenth day of the proceedings, Colonel Browne, being examined on
oath, is questioned by the court:—
Question.—"How long have you known the prisoner, and what was
your opinion of his character previous to the misunderstanding
between you and him?"
Answer.—"I have known the prisoner since the year 1816. He was in
the light company with me for a considerable time, and distinguished
himself highly at Hattrass. I always considered him, and indeed know
him to be, up to the present moment, one of the best officers in his
Majesty's service."[16]

CHAPTER XXV
When an officer has been tried by an honourable military tribunal,
composed of fifteen British officers, and the sentence of the
court-martial has been sanctioned and approved by a most merciful and
gracious sovereign, it were as fruitless, as it would be highly improper
and presumptuous, for the sentenced individual to urge anything further
in his defence. I, therefore, as a sincere admirer of my country's laws,
bow most humbly to my fate; I love my country as truly as ever I did,
and would as willingly as ever risk my life to support its laws and
freedom.
During the trial, which lasted thirteen days, I was exceedingly
harassed, and my feelings were worked up to a state bordering on frenzy.
There was a host against me, and I had not a soul to advise me how to
proceed. I stood alone and unaided, with a limited education, to rebut
the whole mass of evidence adduced against me.
The time necessarily occupied in sending the proceedings of the
court-martial to my native country, and the long period which elapsed
before its return, were spent in the bosom of domestic bliss, where I
found refuge from the storm. The contemplation of my recent fall would
at times sink me in gloomy despair, and it was my wife only who could
divert my mind from useless forebodings, and whisper in my ear sweet
hopes of better days to come. I removed some miles from the regiment, as
I could not bear the commiserating remarks of the soldiers as they
passed me, which only served to plunge me deeper in the vortex of
despondency. From these motives I was induced to remove from that
station where my profession had been my pride and boast, to where I
should not meet the pitying countenances of those brave fellows with
whom I had often shared in glory, and where I could, unmolested and
undisturbed, think of the future, and compose my feelings. On leaving
the regiment, and passing by the houses of the officers, that hung on
the rapid Ganges, my feelings can be better imagined than described.
Need I be ashamed to confess that I felt the tear trickling down my
cheek, and a weight at my heart that the utmost ingenuity of man cannot
accurately describe. I could not help comparing my then forlorn
situation with the day I looked back on the little white village spire
out-topping the high poplars that reared their heads over the
briar-woven grave of my mother, save that I had now one near and dear to
me, and ever ready to share the cup of sorrow. Many of the men whom I
had befriended and had got promoted, followed my boat on the banks of
the river, wishing me every prosperity, till prudence bade them return
to their lines. The feelings I experienced on this occasion are such as
the tyrant soldier never knows, and never ought to know. These friendly
greetings of the men gratified my pride, but only sunk my heart deeper
in anguish. Scarcely were my feelings so composed as to reconcile me in
some degree to my fate, when an event, the most dreadful and agonizing,
and which of all others I was the least prepared for, happened to her on
whom I had built my most felicitous hopes, when more halcyon days should
visit our humble cot. I could have borne poverty with a smile of
contentment; but this blow was vital, and at once dashed the flattering
cup of hope from my lips. During my long and harassing trial, such was
the anxiety of my wife, that a premature birth of a boy was the
consequence. This had nearly deprived me of her who was my best friend
and guide; but, by dint of great care and good nursing, she recovered,
and was at this moment in all the health and beauty of twenty-two, and
expected shortly to present me with another pledge of mutual love. A
strange coincidence brought her good mother, brother, and sister to the
station, neither of whom we could have expected, and we all waited the
happy issue of this event. I cannot relate our preliminary proceedings
and great anxiety. Suffice it that, on the following morning, having
given birth, after twelve hours' protracted labour, to a beautiful boy,
she was a corpse, having that morning completed her two-and-twentieth
year. All my former misfortunes now rushed upon my distracted mind with
tenfold force, and this last blow seemed to bereave me of all that on
earth I could love; and my poor child, kissing the cold lips of his dead
mother, and pathetically beseeching her to get up and speak to him,
roused me to a full sense of my utter misery and woe. Neither his uncle
nor his aunt could drag him from embracing the corpse of his dear
mother; his cries were dreadful; and it was imagined, for some time
after, that the dear boy's intellect had received a shock that was
likely to prove lasting. He frequently wept bitterly, and would
affectionately hug and kiss, a thousand times, any little thing that had
been his mother's, preserving most carefully even little pieces of rag
or paper that he knew had been hers. My poor mother-in-law scarcely ever
spoke for the long period of six months, after this dreadful shock, but
lay in a melancholy state of insensibility, not knowing even her little
grandson, who would linger over her sick-bed for whole days together.
At this very crisis of my life the court-martial was communicated to me
as having been confirmed in England, and I was directed to proceed to
the Presidency of Fort William, preparatory to being sent home, to be
placed on the half-pay.
This final sentence was communicated to me through the regiment, some
few days after my wife's death, who was, therefore, spared this last
pang. When the letter was delivered to me, I was sitting on a couch with
my two motherless babes, one four years old, the other but a few days.
On tracing the contents of the letter, when my eager eyes met the words
"Dismissed the service," I could not repress the tear of anguish, nor
refrain from indulging in the most unavailing grief. To wind up a
military career like mine in this manner, was distressing indeed!
From the age of nine to forty-one, I had now been in the army—a period
of thirty-two years. My services during that time are already before the
reader. In the course of those services, I had received six
matchlock-ball wounds:—
One through the forehead, just above my eyes, which has so impaired my
sight, that I have been obliged to use glasses for some years past.
Two on the top of my head, from which have, at different times, been
extracted sixteen pieces of bone. These two wounds, at every change of
the weather, cause a most excruciating headache.
One in the fleshy part of the right arm.
One through the forefinger of my left hand. Of this finger I have
entirely lost the use, and I am still obliged to nurse it with great
care, several pieces of bone having been extracted from it, and some
splinters, as I fear, being still remaining.
One in the fleshy part of the right leg.
I had also received a flesh wound in my left shoulder, with several
other slighter wounds not worth particularizing.
The above wounds, except one, having been received prior to the
munificent grant of his present Majesty to wounded officers, I never
received a farthing remuneration, except ninety-six pounds for the
last—a year's pay as ensign.
I confess, then, I had entertained a sanguine hope, that the extent and
nature of my services, and the number of wounds I had received, would
have more than outweighed the offence of which I had been convicted, and
I felt the disappointment most acutely, and could not avoid giving vent
to my agonized feelings. I was aroused by the endearing behaviour of my
child, whose arms had, on his observing my grief, encircled my neck.
"What's the matter, father? you are always crying now, since mother is
gone away," said he. This was touching a tenderer chord than the babe
imagined, for he still supposed that his dear mother was gone for a time
only, and his constant inquiries were when she would return. We were
found in this state of woe by Captain Thomas Marshall, of the Bengal
army, my neighbour. This officer was my neighbour indeed; for his
kindness, and that of his amiable wife, towards me, were unabated and
unceasing. In the affectionate bosom of this lady my orphan babe found a
foster-mother, who shared with her infant, three days older than mine,
the one half of its best comfort. Towards this dear and affectionate
couple my heart will ever cherish the fond remembrance of gratitude, and
I hope this humble declaration may meet them in the far-distant clime in
which they sojourn. When Captain Marshall saw the sentence, he turned
from me, and walked into another room—for what purpose, I leave the
sympathizing reader to guess. He soon returned to me, and said, "Come,
Shipp, you have often mounted the breach of danger—cheer up—and
recollect you have those dear babes to clothe and feed." Here my little
boy, supposing that this was meant as a kind of rebuke, said, "I don't
want anything to eat, Captain Marshall; therefore, don't cry." These are
touches which the feeling heart can alone appreciate. To prevent, for
the time, any further indulgence in sorrow, I was prevailed on to
accompany my kind neighbour to his hospitable house, where I spent the
day with him, and where a little musical party assembled in the evening,
to rouse me from the state of despondency into which this last blow had
plunged me. But all attempts to divert me from the recollections of my
misfortunes were fruitless. Music and society but added to my pain; and
I found that I was never, for a length of time, so composed as in those
days and nights which I spent free from all company but that of my two
motherless babes, with whom only I could, if I may so express myself,
luxuriate in grief.
GHAUT ON THE GANGES.
From a Drawing by W. Daniell, R.A.
In one month after the confirmed sentence of the court-martial had been
made known to me, I was compelled to obey the orders which I had
received to repair to Calcutta, previous to embarkation for England. To
enable me to comply with these directions, I was obliged to sacrifice
all my property for a mere nothing, and I set out for the Presidency
with my little boy, now my only comfort, having made the little infant
over to my brother-in-law, J.P. Mellaird, Esq., indigo-planter Tirhoot,
where his grandmother, somewhat recovered, found refuge also.
The voyage down the lonely river Ganges was not calculated to soothe my
sorrows or to cheer my prospects. I reached Calcutta in safety, and
remained there a considerable time waiting for a ship, where, strange to
say, I received an order to proceed home with invalids, and to place
myself immediately under the command of Captain Mathers, of his
Majesty's 59th regiment. This order I was bound to obey; but it
prevented me from bringing home my little boy, as every part of the ship
was taken up for the troops, and the captain of the vessel would not
accommodate me under a thousand rupees—a sum which I had not to give. A
smaller foreign ship would have brought both myself and child home for
what the Company allow for officers sent home—fifteen hundred rupees.
By this I was deprived of the satisfaction of bringing home my child,
who remains in India with my brother-in-law to this day.
In the beginning of the month of April, 1825, I embarked on board the
free-trader, Euphrates, Captain Mead commanding, with an insufficient
crew, as they did not exceed twenty-three hands in all, and winter was
before us for the whole voyage. This would not have been a very pleasant
prospect to the shattered nerves of an old Indian; but mine, although I
had been so many years in that hot country, did not come under that
description, and I had learnt long since to endure hardships. I was
never much addicted to look on the dark side of things, but now it was
impossible to refrain from thinking of the situation in which I stood. I
was proceeding to a country, and that country my native home; but it was
not endeared to me by a solitary relative that I knew of. I could not
help comparing the close of my military career with its commencement. I
was then friendless and isolated; and who had I now but those who
mourned my departure from a land which I was compelled to quit for ever?
I left England, when a child, without one friend or relative to bid me
adieu, and I was now returning to it without one to bid me welcome! Yet
there is something pleasing to every British bosom, in the anticipation
of returning to the land of one's birth; and, although my prospects were
anything but bright, I felt, notwithstanding, that I could be content to
live in my native country, even in poverty. But the necessity which
compelled me to leave behind me my two sweet babes distressed me
exceedingly, and my eye seemed riveted on the arid sand along the banks
of the river that had some few days before borne my boy from my sight.
On the spot on which we parted I gazed with indescribable sensations,
and I found that the more I gazed the dearer it grew in my estimation.
There are few who have not experienced delight in revisiting, after many
years' absence, the scenes of their childhood. When I returned to my
native land from India, in the year 1807, after an absence of twelve
years, I was proceeding home to visit my family; but when I reached
Colchester (the place, as the reader will probably recollect, where I
commenced "soldiering"), all the gambols and tricks I had played there
when a boy, rushed upon my mind, and the place seemed endeared to me by
a thousand recollections. Such was my wish to re-explore this place,
that I forfeited my coach-hire for the rest of the journey, and stopped
there that night. Early on the following morning I sauntered along to
the lanes that stood in the vicinity of the barracks, and, on coming to
a certain lane that ran behind them, where we went every day to
practice, I found my name still on a stile. This had been cut by me when
I frequented the place as a little fifer, twelve years before. Such were
my feelings on this simple occasion, that I could scarcely restrain a
tear, and I sat on the stile for an hour, looking on my own name a
hundred times over. It will not, therefore, be wondered at, if the eye
of a fond father should fondly linger on the spot where he took leave
of, and last saw his motherless babe.
The scene before me in the vessel soon diverted me from the
contemplation of all other subjects. I could have brooded over the fate
of my dear little ones the whole night; but the din and tumult of more
than two hundred soldiers, with their friends from shore, all rioting in
the cup of inebriety, tumbling over each other, blaspheming, fighting,
singing, fifing, and fiddling, and all huddled together in a confined
space, with their beds, bedding, parrots, minors, and other birds,
roused me to a lively sense of the scene before me.
On the following morning we bade farewell to Fort William, under whose
proud battlements we had been lying. The wind was serene and fair, and
the wave had scarcely a ripple on its silvery surface. Would that my
bosom had been equally composed and tranquil; but my heart sickened
within me when I felt the beautiful ship smoothly gliding down the rapid
stream, and bearing me from that country and that service in which I had
spent the prime of my life, and, I may say, the happiest of my days. The
rapid Ganges soon bore me from the sight of the English flag, and I
dropped a tear to the recollection of the many happy days I had spent at
Fort William.
I soon found that I had a queer set to deal with, without the means of
checking any indiscretion that drunkenness might drive them to commit.
The captain commanding the detachment was in a dying state, and indeed
did die on his passage home; consequently, all the trouble, anxiety, and
care, fell upon me. I can venture to assert that, with the exception of
about twenty men, a more disorderly and mutinous set than the fellows I
had now under my charge, never disgraced the garb of soldiers.
An Eastern voyage, either home or out, is dull and monotonous enough,
even with an agreeable party. Passengers we had none, save one lady and
her little girl, her sick husband, the captain of the detachment, then
lingering on the brink of the grave, and a young officer of the
Company's Bengal Artillery, who survived but a few days the tossing of
the ship, and was committed to a watery grave, ere the bloom of boyhood
had left his cheek. We had one doctor on board, and a young officer of
the Company's service, in charge of the Company's troops. Of the misery
of the passage the reader may have some idea, when he is informed that
we had upwards of two hundred men on board, some without legs, others
without arms, and twenty of whom had been removed from hospital only a
week or ten days before we sailed. Every man had a box or trunk, bed and
bedding, with parrots, minors, and cockatoos, and all these poor
creatures, with four women and four children, were huddled on one small
deck, every one that could move endeavouring to seize the more secure
spot, and tumbling over and treading on those who were unable, either
from sickness or drunkenness, to move or assist themselves. The smell
and heat below were beyond description. Added to all this, the men were,
during the whole voyage, in a state of continual drunkenness, having
means of procuring liquor privately, by some device which I never could
discover. All my exertions were insufficient to check them in this
practice, or indeed to keep them in any kind of order, from want of the
usual means of enforcing obedience, there being neither a place of
confinement, nor handcuffs, nor any other means of securing the
ringleaders, in the ship. Nothing but the greatest personal risk on my
part, and that of the Company's officer, Lieutenant Rock, prevented open
mutiny among the troops; and I consider it a mercy that we were not both
thrown overboard, which was more than once threatened.
Some of the more refractory among the soldiers soon discovered that my
means to enforce obedience were limited; in consequence of which
three-fourths of them set my orders at defiance, refusing in the most
peremptory manner to obey me, even to clearing away their own filth and
dirt; and I was ultimately obliged, rather than provoke that spirit of
rebellion which I could evidently see only wanted some pretext to show
itself, to pay a set of men daily, as a working party, to clear the
deck, and keep off disease, so often occasioned on shipboard from a want
of cleanliness. This I did by allowing those men two extra drams per day
for their labour.
After a voyage of six months, spent in constant riot and anxiety, and
the misery of the whole increased by scurvy, which prevailed on board,
and the number of deaths which occurred during the passage, we at length
reached our native land in safety, having, in the course of the voyage,
thrown overboard the captain of the detachment, a lieutenant, who was a
passenger, thirty-eight soldiers, and one child, all of whom had died in
that short space of time. Most of the men fell victims to their
intemperance in drink.
We reached England in the month of October, landed at Gravesend, and, on
the following day, marched to the depôt at Chatham, where the detachment
was drawn up on parade, and I left them in charge of the staff-officer
of Fort Pitt Barrack.
The parade on which I then stood finished my military career of upwards
of thirty years—five-and-twenty of which I had spent on the burning
soil of India. I had but little cause to feel regret in resigning my
command over the turbulent and drunken set whom I now was about to
quit; but, situated as I was myself, I could not even leave those poor
creatures without a tear; and, when I reflected that I was no longer a
soldier, I felt a weight at my heart that sunk me almost to the earth.
The public are now in possession of a faithful account of the
vicissitudes which have marked the career of one who, in misfortune, can
pride himself on having performed his duty to his country, loyally,
faithfully, and, he trusts, bravely.
From my military readers I feel it impossible to part without a few
valedictory words. Brothers in arms, farewell! May the bright star from
heaven shine on your efforts, and may you be crowned with glory! May the
banner of Albion be hoisted in victory wherever it goes! As long as my
mortal sight will guide me along the annals of war, I will exult and
triumph in your successes, and drop a tear of pity for those that fall.
Comrades, farewell!

CHAPTER XXVI
CONTINUATION OF THE MEMOIR, UNTIL THE DEATH OF MR. SHIPP.
The military career, traced in the preceding pages, has probably never
been surpassed either in homely, affecting narrative, or in thrilling
scenes of war and strife, by that of any soldier of modern times. That
Shipp did not rise more rapidly to the dizzy heights of a hero's
ambition, in a much shorter time, may reasonably be attributed to the
age in which he served, as well as to the peculiar regulations of our
service, than to any deficiency of fitness, ability, courage, or even
notoriety on his part. In the English army, all the avenues to
preferment are generally so crowded by aspirants of merit and influence,
and so jealously guarded by the legislature, that the best and most
valuable soldiers—men whose services acquire a very early
distinction—scarcely ever rise from the ranks to the elevation which
Shipp twice attained by his gallantry and soldiership. And it was the
consciousness of this fact, and the marked departure from the rigid
rules of the service, in the instance of his individual promotion, that
rendered him so resigned and submissive, under the heavy blow which his
own temerity subsequently inflicted upon him. Had his destiny enabled
him to steer past the siren pleasures that too often interrupt the path
of men possessing power, distinction, and popularity, it is more than
probable that, instead of being permitted to retire without any public
brand of disgrace upon his brow, into the obscurity of a private
station, he would have attained the highest rank in the British army,
and have been conspicuous, like Collingwood, not only for winning
victories more gloriously, but for describing them to his countrymen
more perspicuously than any military man of the age he lived in. It is
not in this little autobiography, written in so terse, agreeable, and
piquant a manner, that the brilliant exploits of Shipp would have been
sought for: the brightness of that page of history which recorded them,
would alone have secured the publicity of his renown. Few ever
possessed, more eminently, all the elements essential to success as a
soldier. Unimpeachable bravery, unwavering perseverance, cool fortitude,
and determined steadiness of purpose, were amongst the most conspicuous
of his attributes; and to these we may add an inexhaustible energy of
mind. Endowments of this nature are not often combined with clearness of
judgment, or with that discretion which cautiously avoids the precipice.
But if Shipp had not always his judgment entirely at command—which
frequently results from a habit of decision and promptitude, mistaken by
many for impetuosity—he was always fertile in resources, quick in
expedients, and any errors arising from his first impulses were amply
amended by the energy and skill with which he ultimately fulfilled every
tittle of the duty intrusted to him.
When John Shipp stood upon the parade at Chatham, in the October of
1825, he was, as he has himself informed us, performing the last of his
military duties. We have already seen with what feelings he bade adieu
to "the plumed troop and the big war"—to the profession which had been
the choice of his childhood and the pride of his riper years—amid which
he had grown and flourished; and, when he had resigned his command to
the officer of Fort Pitt Barrack, he wandered forth into the world a
melancholy man, because no longer a soldier. His military career was
thus finished, as he truly foreboded, for ever. That eventful and not
inglorious campaign of his existence, of which he has given so vivid an
account, was at an end, and he was now alone in the world, destitute of
occupation, and without immediate aim or object. Hitherto, his life had
been a romance, the various vicissitudes whereof forcibly verify the
adage, that "truth is stranger than fiction." Though the reader will
have henceforth to regard him as a mere civilian, his movements confined
to his native island, where stirring incidents and dashing adventures
are not rife, yet the details of his remaining years are not entirely
destitute of interest and instruction.
Although the first and natural feeling of the gallant ex-lieutenant, at
the contemplation of his position, was one of deep despondency, yet the
manliness of his nature forbid a tame submission to vain and bootless
melancholy. He had before risen superior to the oppression of that
gloomy goddess. His energies soon rallied, and the innate fortitude of
his character came to his aid. He was furnished with excellent
credentials from those officers with whom he had served; and, having
taken up his residence in the metropolis, he set himself sedulously to
work to procure employment. At first he was elated with hope, from the
numerous promises which he received, and the kindness and urbanity with
which his pretensions were entertained. He soon found, however, that
there was a difference between professions and practice—between
hospitality and active benevolence.
Amongst the first applications which he made, was one to the Court of
Directors of the East India Company, setting forth his services in
India, the wounds which he had received, and his other claims on their
favourable consideration. This application was successful; for, though
the Directors were unable to confer on him any appointment, they
generously granted him a pension of fifty pounds a year, for life,
commencing from the preceding Christmas. This honourable allowance was
sufficient to keep him above actual want; but, with the habits which he
had imbibed in a land where extravagance and luxury are almost regarded
as virtues, it was insufficient to keep him out of difficulties. He was
himself well aware, and willing to allow on all occasions, that his
chief failing was improvidence. Nor was he really extravagant; but he
possessed little knowledge of the value of money, and was as prodigal of
that essential commodity as if his supplies had been unlimited. His
generosity was so unbounded, that he has often been known to recompense
moderate services with a liberality wholly beyond his rank or means. The
resources derived from the India House soon failing, he renewed his
exertions to obtain employment, but still without success. Remembering
that the story of his life was full of interest, and having determined
upon telling it to the public, he turned himself with great perseverance
to his new occupation, and in a short time became fired with all the
ambition of an expectant author. As he was, however, naturally doubtful
of his own powers, he submitted his manuscripts to the revision of a
gentleman every way well qualified for the task, and who performed it
with equal judgment, good taste, and ability. This sanguine temperament
now led him to indulge in many a golden dream of the profits of
authorship; an error that occasioned more profuse expenditure than he
would, even with his acknowledged lack of worldly prudence, have deemed
excusable.
It was while he was under the delusion of this phantom—the expectation
of competent means from literary labours solely—that he thought of
submitting a second time to the bonds of Hymen; and the interesting and
amiable object of his affections has shown sufficiently the wisdom of
his choice, by her exemplary conduct and virtuous life, when placed in
circumstances painful, difficult, and trying. The only available means
of support under the increased expenditure that attended his married
state, was his pension from the India House—his chief prospective
supply, the result of his publications. As an author he displayed
invention and quickness; and the rapidity with which his works of
fiction appeared, was not less extraordinary than the imagination which
they displayed. In 1826 he published "The Shepherdess of Arranville; or,
Father and Daughter;" a pathetic tale in three acts; and, in 1829, "The
Maniac of the Pyrenees; or, the Heroic Soldier's Wife;" a melodrama in
two acts, printed at Brentford. The success of these light works,
however, was inferior to that of his Memoirs, which soon became
extensively popular, and have continued to gather favour with each added
year. This reputation resulted, not more from the exciting nature of the
details, than the freshness, rapidity, and air of candour, that pervades
the whole. Shipp certainly derived advantage from the advice and
assistance of an experienced and talented literary friend; but the
vigour, playfulness, and peculiarity of style which characterize all his
writings, were not infused by the pen of the ripe and ready writer—they
were original qualities of the composition. Encouraged by the reception
of his Memoirs, and urged by pinching poverty to constant efforts for
the improvement of his circumstances, he took advantage of his literary
popularity, and sent into the world his "Military Bijou," and a pamphlet
on military flogging. The latter, dedicated to Sir Francis Burdett,
produced a decided sensation, and was so much approved of by the
patriotic senator with whose name it was associated, that he generously
presented the author with a cheque for sixty pounds. Such precarious
supplies, however, could afford no permanent ease to a mind so
energetic, so unbroken by reverses, so incapable of yielding to any
untoward pressure of Providence: he applied himself, therefore,
resolutely to the obtainment of an employment attended with a certain
income, without regard to the amount of compensation, degree of
humility, or difficulty of position. Confident of his powers, physical
and intellectual; relying on the education derived from boundless
experience of men and manners, and being a perfect master of the art of
discipline, he very naturally concluded that his qualifications for the
situation of a metropolitan police officer were unequalled. He had
calculated rightly. Without a moment's hesitation—in fact accompanied
by an expression of regret that no more lucrative or suitable
appointment was vacant—the office of Inspector was stated to be at his
service, and to await his acceptance.
Entering with alacrity on the duties of his new appointment, he had the
good fortune to be introduced, by Colonel Rowan, to Lieutenant W.
Parlour, at that time superintendent of the Stepney division. This
employment was not only particularly agreeable to Mr. Shipp, from the
military rank of his superior in command, but laid the foundation of a
steady friendship, which terminated only with his death. Mr. Shipp's
talents and qualifications could not remain long unnoticed by the
commissioners; indeed, they had evinced their perfect knowledge of both,
and their desire to protect, encourage, and promote him, from the first
moment of his presenting himself, by their placing him under the command
of Lieutenant Parlour. A few months after Shipp's appointment,
Lieutenant Parlour was made superintendent of the Liverpool constabulary
force; and, on taking leave of his friend, assured him of his sincere
determination to assist in restoring him to a situation of independence
and respectful consideration. An opportunity soon presented itself. A
superintendent for the night watch at Liverpool being required, Parlour
sent an early communication to his friend Shipp, explaining all the
advantages, the amount of salary (£200 per annum), and the respectable
character of the employment; urging him to strain every nerve, turn
every stone, ply every engine, to obtain the vacant place. The very
conspicuous merits of Shipp soon distanced his numerous competitors, and
procured for him the object of his ambition.
As superintendent of the night watch at Liverpool, Mr. Shipp proved
himself a capable and efficient officer. By his intelligence, attention,
excellent management, and gentlemanly manners, he gained the confidence
and esteem, not only of the authorities, but of many individuals of
wealth and consideration in that opulent community.
We have alluded to the fondness for scribbling which had been evinced by
Mr. Shipp, from the period when he undertook the task of writing his
Memoirs. This propensity, so far from diminishing, seemed to gather
strength, till at length it became one of his favourite occupations. On
his first settlement in Liverpool, he contributed gratuitously, to
several of the local papers, tales illustrative of the manners of the
Hindoos. Shortly afterwards he published a rather ponderous volume,
entitled "The Eastern Story Teller:" but it is somewhat remarkable that
the real events of his own life surpassed in interest those which were
the offspring of his imagination.
His propensity for literary composition never interfered with his
responsible duties as an officer. Accustomed to command, and possessing,
from long experience, a thorough knowledge of character, he had the
force under his control in a state of admirable order and discipline.
Nor were there wanting several occasions for the display of that natural
intrepidity which was so striking a concomitant of his character. Though
he had command of a civil force, a military disposition was not
unfrequently required.
It was his duty to "set the watch" at a particular hour each
evening—the time, of course, varying according to the season. After
this it was his habit to take his round in the night, at some hour
casually selected, in order to keep the men alert and vigilant. He
resided in a district of the town called Toxteth Park, which was at that
period infested by gangs of ruffians known by the designation of Park
Bangers. Prior to the passing of the Municipal Act, Liverpool was not
protected by the efficient day and night police that has since been
established; and gangs of lawless individuals were in the habit of
attacking pedestrians, male and female, sometimes for wanton mischief,
and not unfrequently with the view of obtaining plunder. One winter's
morning, Mr. Shipp, having performed a portion of his round, was
returning home with the intention of taking a few hours' sleep, and then
resuming his duty: as he was passing along one of the streets of the
Park, his attention was attracted by a violent whirling of rattles, amid
which he heard the shrieks of a female. He rushed forward in the
direction of the sounds, and, on turning into a retired and respectable
suburban street, saw two of his men fleeing with all the speed that
their heavy habiliments would permit, before four fellows who brandished
heavy bludgeons. A little further on lay a watchman, apparently
insensible, while a couple of ruffians were kneeling over a prostrate
figure on the footwalk. Leaning against the rails for support was a
lady, whose shrieks had now subsided into heart-breaking sobs. Shipp saw
in one instant how matters stood, and he hesitated not for a moment what
course to take. Passing the fugitives and their pursuers, he rushed up
to the fellows who were rifling the man on the footwalk, and, with the
heavy stick which he always carried during his nocturnal perambulations,
laid them both prostrate beside their victim. The remainder of the gang
seeing this, turned from the pursuit of the watchmen, and rushed upon
him; but, calling to the fugitives, he contrived to dart through his
assailants, without receiving any injury save a contusion on the left
shoulder. Another watchman who had heard the rattles, at this moment
came; the two who were running off, hearing their superintendent's
voice, had returned, and all four now faced the gang, who, however,
fearing that the odds would soon be against them, fled, leaving one of
their number a prisoner in the grasp of Mr. Shipp, in addition to the
two whom he had prostrated, and who were then slowly recovering. The
victim of plunder had already recovered his legs. Mr. Shipp now learned
that he was a respectable tradesman of the town, who was returning home
from a Christmas festivity with his wife, when he was assailed by a gang
of thieves, who, finding that he resisted stoutly, struck him to the
ground. The cries of the lady brought the watchmen, one after another,
to the spot. The first was knocked down, and the two others, after
receiving a few blows, were running off in search of more assistance,
when their superintendent arrived in time to prevent the villains from
effecting their object.
Mr. Shipp was one evening taking a glass of wine with a few friends at
the King's Arms, one of the principal inns in Liverpool, when suddenly a
strange tumult was heard in the house, and sounds of feet passing
rapidly along the floors. At first the party took no notice of the
matter; but, a still more strange and unusual sound reaching their ears,
they gazed at each other in silence and amazement. Suspense to Shipp
being always intolerable, he rose at once, and, followed by his
companions, rushed into the passage, which was a spacious apartment.
Here they were met by vociferations of "Go back! go back! Mr. Shipp, and
shut your door." The advice was instantly followed by every one, save
Shipp alone, who, with that firm nerve that enabled him to face death in
various shapes, remained outside, where a melancholy spectacle met his
eyes. In the middle of the hall, just opposite the large window of the
bar, where a crowd of servants had taken refuge, and from whence they
called loudly for help, stood a grey-headed man, apparently about fifty
years of age, who, from his dress, appeared to be a helper in the
stable. In his right hand he grasped a carving-knife; and, while his
face appeared convulsed with the fury of a maniac, he uttered the most
fearful, though incoherent denunciations of vengeance, against any one
who should approach him. At this instant a young woman belonging to the
establishment came tripping down the stairs, whom the maniac perceiving,
he repeated the same fearful cry which had so startled the company in
the parlour, and, raising the knife, rushed at her. Shipp bounded after
him like the lion from his lair, seized his uplifted arm, and, jamming
the madman against the stairs with his knees, wrenched the weapon from
his grasp. The terrified waiter now stepped forward, and assisted in
securing the lunatic, who was immediately conveyed to Bridewell, and
from thence to a proper asylum. He was an old servant of the
establishment, who had on several occasions exhibited symptoms of mental
derangement, which ultimately became confirmed by habits of
intemperance. At length, on the evening in question, his malady had
broken out into decided madness.
Shipp used himself to relate an incident, which has so much the
character of romance, that it must not be omitted. He was seated one
afternoon in an alcove on the green of the hotel at Birkenhead, when, in
the adjoining recess, he overheard a deep masculine voice urging some
tender proposal to a female: and he was about to depart, when he was
struck by the extremely tremulous tones in which the girl refused
compliance. "I cannot consent to go," said she; "it would not be
proper."—"Well, but," replied the man, "I tell you your brother Tom is
to go with us; he has consented to the whole arrangement; the sloop is
in the river now, and we sail with the morning tide at five o'clock.
We're all ready. Tom'll go on board this night; and, as he is fully
expecting you, it will look foolish not to go. We can be married at
Guernsey immediately, you know; and I shall have such a nice cottage for
you; and we shall be as happy as possible."—"And why cannot I go on
board when Tom does?" asked the girl. "Why, you know, dear," replied the
man, with some hesitation, "the agents might board us this evening; and
I should not like them to see us with a woman in the sloop. But come—I
know you are not comfortable with that old aunt of yours; so just steal
out of the house, and be on the watch for us at the slip, at half-past
one. I shall have the boat waiting at one, close to the slip at
George's Pier; the tide will be running in; I will pull over, and take
you on board in a jiffy; and then away we go for beautiful Guernsey." A
few more low sounds of tender entreaty followed, and then the girl
seemed to yield a reluctant consent. The man, observing that she was
faint, proposed that she should walk on the green and take the air.
Shipp had then an opportunity of observing the pair. The girl was a
pretty, graceful, innocent-looking creature, about twenty-two years of
age. The man was a tall, swarthy, good-looking fellow, apparently a
master in the merchant service. Shipp at once recognized him as an
individual who had been, a few weeks before, convicted before the
magistrates of Liverpool for smuggling, and heavily fined. By
representation to the board, the fine had been considerably mitigated.
Shortly afterward, as Shipp was passing along the pier to the packet, he
again passed the lovers, who were just separating. "Remember half-past
one," said the man.—"I will," replied the girl, firmly; "tell brother
Tom I shall scold him when I come on board, for not coming over to see
me." The packet was moving from the pier, and the man stepped on board
at the same moment as Mr. Shipp. The former was almost immediately
accosted with great warmth by an individual, who pressed forward to meet
him. The two shook hands familiarly, the friend exclaiming, "Ah!
Captain, how are you? I haven't seen you this age. How's your wife?—is
she in Liverpool?"—"No," replied the other, "I left her at home in
Whitehaven three weeks ago, quite well and happy, thank you."—"And who
is that pretty girl whom you've just parted with? I'll tell your wife,
you rogue, the next time I see her. She ought to be jealous of
you."—"Oh," replied the captain, "she is sister to a new acquaintance
of mine; I've just been bidding her good-bye, as we sail to-morrow
morning."
Shipp now became interested in the event, as he was convinced that some
plot had been contrived, which would, in all probability, be fatal to
the happiness of an innocent girl. When the passengers landed, he
followed close to the man of whose proceedings he had become so
strangely cognizant. As if fate had determined to let him into the whole
secret, scarcely had the smuggler parted from the friend whom he had met
in the packet, when he encountered a young man whom he addressed by the
familiar appellation of Tom. "I've just left your sister," said he;
"she's quite well—sends her love to you, and all that sort of thing,
and wonders you have not been to see her. I told her you were going to
Birmingham:—by the way, when do you start?"—"At five o'clock; but I
wanted to see you before I went—how lucky I met you!"
Shipp heard no more, for he stood pondering on all that had passed under
his notice, irresolute how to act. His first thought was to return
immediately to Cheshire, and inform the young woman of the precipice on
which she stood. A moment's reflection convinced him of the
impracticability of this attempt, for he knew not her name or residence.
His next impulse was to follow the brother, and inform him of the snare
which had been laid for his sister. He turned, and followed in the
direction which the pair had taken, but he was unable to find them. His
next resolve, though not perhaps the most prudent that could have been
adopted, was exceedingly accordant with his character and disposition.
It was his habit, when going his nightly rounds, to wear a rough
overcoat of coarse blue cloth, and a broad-brimmed varnished hat,
similar to those frequently worn by boatmen. Dressed in this guise, a
few minutes before one o'clock, in the morning succeeding the afternoon
just adverted to, he walked along George's Pier. The night was moonless,
but not dark. The river was almost unruffled, though the faint light
cast by the stars into the atmosphere was reflected in long lines upon
the slight swell of the incoming tide. As he approached the steps, he
discerned a boat in which four men were seated. His quick eye
discovered that, as he had hoped, it was not a ship's boat, but one of
the regular river craft. He began to descend the steps, when one of the
boatmen exclaimed, "Is that you, Captain?"—"No," replied Shipp, coolly
stepping into the boat, and seating himself in her bows, "but he'll be
here immediately." The men, thinking he had been sent by the person who
had employed them, made no remark. Presently footsteps were heard
passing rapidly along the pier; the Captain, as the men called him,
descended the steps, sprung into the boat, and, not observing Shipp, or,
if he did so, thinking, from his position and appearance, that he was
one of the regular crew, ordered the men to "push off, and pull away
with a will." The men pulled with lusty sinews, and, in about half an
hour, laid the boat alongside the pier at Birkenhead. "Holla!" exclaimed
one of the boatmen, as their employer lifted a female into the boat, "is
it a woman, Captain? this ought to be double pay, at least."—"Hold your
tongue, man," replied the Captain, "and pull away for the sloop: I'll
steer, for I know where she lies." The men again tugged hard at the
oars, being as anxious as their employer to finish their job. Though the
tide was now against them, another half hour of labour brought the boat
alongside a small but handsome vessel, which was riding at anchor in the
stream. "Hold fast, men," said the Captain, springing up the side of the
sloop and gaining her deck; "stand by to help the lady, and then come on
board and take a glass of grog, and be paid."—"Ay, ay, sir," was the
ready response. It was now Shipp's turn to act. Stepping quickly to the
stern of the boat he exclaimed loudly, "Let go, men, and pull ashore
this instant. Young woman, you are deceived: this man is married: he has
a wife at Whitehaven, and your brother is not on board his sloop."—"And
who are you, Sir," exclaimed the master of the sloop, "that dare to
interfere in my affairs?" "I am one of the police-officers of
Liverpool," replied Shipp, "and I take this lady under my
protection."—"If she chooses to come into my vessel," said the master,
in a voice hoarse with passion, "I presume your interference is cursed
impertinent and uncalled for. You wish to come on board, Mary, don't
you?"—"Not if this be true," sobbed the girl; "if you are not deceiving
me, call brother Tom; you said he would be here."—"I tell you," said
Shipp, "your brother has gone to Birmingham, and you were on the point
of being ruined. Let go, men, or it will be worse for you!" Hearing
this, the boat-hook was instantly loosed, and the tide swept the boat
from the sloop's side in a moment. "And are we to lose our money?" said
one of the boatmen, as he reluctantly put out his oar; "we were to have
had thirty shillings for this job."—"I will pay you," said Shipp.
"Huzza!" exclaimed the boatmen, "pull away, my hearties!" As they rowed
to the pier, Shipp related to the girl all that he had witnessed and
overheard on the preceding day. "God bless you, Sir!" said she; "from
what misery you have saved me!" On the following day the girl returned
to her aunt, and, shortly afterwards, her brother called upon Shipp, and
thanked him fervently for the great service he had rendered.
In the month of May, 1833, the office of governor of the workhouse at
Liverpool became vacant by the death of Mr. Hardman, who had for many
years filled that situation. The special vestry, after mature
deliberation, decided upon recommending Mr. Hewett, master of St.
Andrew's, Holborn, London. The recommendation was, that Mr. Hewett and
his wife should be governor and matron, at the joint salary of £300 per
annum. As the situation was a very desirable one—a handsome residence,
with all the necessaries, comforts, and even luxuries of life being
provided, in addition to the salary—a host of candidates (no less than
thirty-seven) were quickly in the field. Amongst those who sought the
office was Mr. Shipp; and, though he came rather late to the goal, he
pursued the contest with his accustomed energy and perseverance.
On the 23rd of May, 1833, a special vestry was held for the purpose of
nominating candidates and electing a person to fill the office. Mr.
Hewett, who was backed by the most influential men of the select vestry,
was nominated by two of the members of that body, amid many expressions
of disapprobation. Other individuals were nominated by their respective
friends; but they were but coldly received. At length Mr. Venables, a
barrister of high standing and respectability, proposed John Shipp, with
a glowing eulogium on his character and qualifications. The nomination
was received with loud and reiterated cheers. Mr. Hall, also an eminent
barrister, afterwards a magistrate at Bow Street, seconded the
nomination. The show of hands being greatly in favour of Mr. and Mrs.
Shipp, a poll was demanded on behalf of the other individuals nominated.
On the following morning, at ten o'clock, the polling commenced at the
Sessions House, in Chapel Street. It was soon evident that Mr. Hewett,
the candidate recommended by the select vestry, had not the slightest
chance of success; and that gentleman accordingly resigned, an hour or
two after the opening of the poll. A contest unparalleled in elections
of this description followed between Mr. Shipp and Mr. Haram, who, with
a certain class, was the favourite candidate, though the popular voice
was for Mr. Shipp. The town was canvassed in every quarter, and placards
covered the walls in all directions, as at a parliamentary election. At
the close of the first day, Haram was upwards of 140 ahead of his
opponent. On the second day, Shipp brought up his lee-way, and at the
close of the poll on Monday he was upwards of 300 ahead. On Tuesday
morning Haram resigned the contest; and thus the election terminated in
favour of Mr. Shipp, whose majority was 352.
We now find Mr. Shipp in a position of comparative affluence, which
unfortunately he did not live long to enjoy. He was installed in his new
office of governor of the workhouse, at the end of May, 1833. Soon
after this he published a work called "The Private Soldier," a volume
which did equal honour to his head and heart, and evinced his ardent
love for that profession in which he had spent the best years of his
life. He was still pressed by embarrassments, to the increase of which
his literary speculations had in no slight degree contributed. The
emoluments of his new situation, had he survived, would have enabled him
to fulfil all his engagements, and make some provision for his family;
but he enjoyed the comforts of the competency which had been bestowed
upon him only a few months. In the February of 1834, he was suddenly
seized with an attack of pleurisy, which terminated his existence after
a few days of excruciating agony. He died on Thursday, the 27th of
February, at the age of fifty-two, and was interred on the following
Tuesday, in the chapel of St. Mary's cemetery. His funeral was attended
by a vast number of his friends, as well as by all the inmates of the
workhouse.
As Mr. Shipp had been greatly esteemed in Liverpool during his life,
much sympathy was excited on behalf of his widow; and, as soon as it was
known that her husband had died insolvent, a subscription was thought of
for her relief. The gentleman who promoted, with the greatest zeal, the
benevolent intentions of the public on behalf of the sorrowing widow,
was Mr. William Parlour, whose name occurs in a former part of this
Memoir. Through his instrumentality a meeting of Mr. Shipp's friends was
called, at which it was resolved that a subscription should be opened;
and in a few days £600 were collected. In addition to this liberal
amount, a gentleman who held a bill of sale, including the chattel
property of the deceased, made the widow a present of all the furniture
which had reverted to him—a gift then valued at £200. This timely
generosity—a tribute to the high character of her late husband, and to
her own exemplary conduct—sustained the widow and her fatherless
family, until that Providence, which never deserts the deserving, placed
her in a situation less profitable, but not dissimilar to her former
avocation.