The Bulwark of
Hindustan

The great fortress-city of Bharatpore,¹ near Agra, was sometimes described as the 'Bulwark of Hindustan', and in 1805 General Lake's victorious progress was halted by its walls. He made four separate attempts to storm Bharatpore and on each occasion was repulsed with heavy loss. There was an ancient prophecy that Bharatpore would only fall when a crocodile came from across the seas and drank all the ditches dry, and since there was a wide belt of desert and jungle between Bharatpore and the nearest crocodile, the likelihood of this occurring seemed highly remote. But in 1824 Lord Combermere succeeded General Paget as Commander-in-Chief of the Bengal Army, and his name, as pronounced by the Indians, bore a marked resemblance to the vernacular word for crocodile.

Bharatpore was the capital of the Jats, Hindu yeomen who make excellent soldiers, and its ruler, Rajah Baldeo Singh, had come to terms with the powerful Company and managed to retain his independence. However, trouble began when he tried to settle the succession to his throne. He put forward his six-year-old son, Balwant Singh, and tried to ensure the child's inheritance by enlisting the support of General Ochterlony, who was the Company's Resident in Delhi. Ochterlony promised his support, and when the Rajah died early in 1825, the child was installed on the throne. However, this was followed by a palace revolution, as a result of which Darjan Sal, nephew of the dead Rajah, seized the citadel, murdered the guardian uncle, and proclaimed himself viceregent, filling all the offices of state with his own creatures.

Ochterlony responded with his usual vigour. He denounced Darjan Sal as a usurper, promised support to all who rose against him, and assembled an army to march against Bharatpore. The Governor-General, Lord Amherst, took exception to Ochterlony's action and said so in an extremely offensive dispatch. The troops were dispersed, and Ochterlony resigned. He was succeeded as Resident by Charles Metcalfe, who had already served in Delhi. He soon recognized the danger of the situation, for by then Darjan Sal had ousted the infant Rajah and placed himself on the throne. Metcalfe advised Amherst that the claim of the infant Rajah must be supported—'not by any positive engagement to the Bhurtpore state, nor by any claim on her part, but by our duty as supreme guardians of general tranquillity, law and right'—and Amherst changed his instructions. A force was assembled under Lord Combermere and marched to Bharatpore in December 1825. Sita Ram's regiment² formed part of the First Division commanded by Major-General Reynell.

Bharatpore was immensely strong. The city, containing nearly 100,000 people, was situated in the middle of a level plain and was surrounded by a high wall of mud brick, strengthened throughout its length by rows of tree trunks buried upright. Beyond the walls was a deep and wide ditch with perpendicular banks. Each of the nine gates was protected by an extensive earthwork, and towering above the walls was the citadel, reputedly the strongest place in India. Lake had lost nearly 3,000 men killed and wounded in his attempts to storm Bharatpore, but he lacked the siege artillery which Combermere was able to assemble. However, even siege guns had their limitations since the mud brick walls merely crumbled when hit. 'What was needed,' wrote Fortescue, 'was shell, and shell was as yet projected not by horizontal but high-angle fire. Shell could only be dropped upon a surface, not driven into the heart of an obstacle to burst within it.'

In the event, Combermere succeeded where Lake had failed. Bharatpore fell on 18 January 1825, and Darjan Sal was taken prisoner. The big gun referred to by Sita Ram was over fifteen feet in length and six feet in circumference at the muzzle. The campaign has several interesting features. It was the first time British cavalry used the lance in Battle.³ It was the first of many battlefields on which the Gurkhas fought for the British.⁴ It was also one of the few occasions in India when British soldiers deserted and actually fought for the enemy. Three artillerymen deserted and served the enemy's guns. Two were men of bad character, but one of them, Sergeant Herbert, had fought at Waterloo and was highly regarded. All were captured and Herbert was hanged on the north-west bastion; the other two, much to the indignation of the army, escaped with transportation to Botany Bay.

A long period of peace followed the capture of Bharatpore, and Sita Ram rose to the rank of Havildar. He became pay-havildar in his company, a much-coveted post. Most of the sepoys kept their pay with the pay-havildar until they went home on annual leave, and custom permitted the pay-havildar to lend money to British officers, who, according to Sita Ram, were often in debt. The Captain of his Company unfortunately lost all his property when a boat containing it sank in a river, and Sita Ram lent him 500 rupees. There was a sudden call for the money banked with Sita Ram by the sepoys, and the combined resources of the Captain and himself fell short of the amount required. Sita Ram was therefore court-martialled for breach of Regulations and lost the appointment of pay-havildar, although he retained his rank as there was no imputation on his honesty.

He rambles a good deal in this chapter, discussing, among other things, the curious rules of the army, and the need for British officers to remain longer with their men than was usually the case. It was inevitable that the more clever and ambitious officers should try to escape from the monotony of regimental life in some up-country garrison and find wider scope for their energies in semi-civilian employment, but it meant a constant chopping and changing within units. Sita Ram was not so much concerned that his officers should be efficient, as we might define the word, but that they should remain long enough at regimental duty for their sepoys to get to know their foibles and idiosyncrasies.

Although there was always a 'bush-fire' operation of one sort or another taking place in India, or in places dependent on India like Aden, none of these was of any real consequence. Sita Ram was able to soldier along quietly and watch his children grow up. But these were years of change for the Company's army, and Sita Ram by no means approved of all the changes. Lord William Bentinck, the Governor-General for much of this period, was an ardent reformer and it was during his time in office that such evils as the burning of widows (suttee) and thuggee were eradicated. He also turned his attention to the army, and was subsequently accused, by Sita Ram among others, of having damaged discipline by reforms.

A General Order of March 1827 had abolished corporal punishment for Indian troops, apart from the crimes of stealing, marauding, and gross insubordination. Eight years later flogging was abolished altogether, and dismissal from the service substituted. There was an immediate outcry after the introduction of both these reforms, and more particularly after the latter. Unfortunately there is ample evidence to show that discipline did decline very rapidly from 1827 onwards—'The Army had ceased to fear'. There were of course other reasons for this decline, and not least the removal from units of their best officers for employment in other fields, but the abolition of corporal punishment undoubtedly played some part. Moreover, the fact that it had not been abolished in the British Army, and that European soldiers could still be flogged, and were flogged, on garrison parades for offences which the sepoy could commit without fear of flogging, must have had a detrimental effect on discipline, and on relations between the British and Indian soldiers. Flogging was reintroduced in 1845 after some serious mutinies among regiments ordered to Sind, which was an unpopular garrison.

About this time it was generally reported that the Sirkar was going to provide assistance for Rajah Balwant Singh of Bharatpore who had been driven from his throne by his brother Darjan Sal.⁵ The Rajah had begged and prayed the Sirkar to support his right to the throne, but he was only a boy and there was a strong party against him at Bharatpore. General 'Loneyackty'⁶ was then Governor of Delhi and he gave orders for an army to be assembled. My regiment received instructions to march to Agra, but it only went four or five marches and was then recalled to Meerut.⁷ Great was the disappointment of the officers for they longed for their new regiment to see service and make a name for itself. After a month⁸ orders were again received and we marched to Agra where a large army was encamped. We remained here for some time.

Some people thought that Darjan Sal, hearing that an army was advancing against him, would give up the fortress without a fight. On one day he would send to say that he would do this, and then on another day that he intended to fight. All this was done in order to gain time for the collection of more men and arms. The English had besieged Bharatpore before in 'Lad Lick's' time and had lost half an army there; the place had been delivered up but had not surrendered.⁹ This was well known to everyone, and was also well remembered. The place was much stronger now than formerly, and was reported to have many large guns which could throw a cannonball six miles. The Bharatpore people put great trust in this artillery and considered the place impregnable.

The English Commander-in-Chief,¹⁰ getting tired of these useless negotiations, marched the army from Agra and laid siege with many large guns. The great annoyance now came from the enemy's horsemen who always hovered round our camp and cut up large numbers of our followers and stragglers. Whenever they were chased by our cavalry they always galloped under the guns of the fort, or into some gateway known only to them. The Sirkar's guns were of no use in making a breach; the walls were so thick that a company could have been drawn up in column upon them and been wheeled into line. The enemy made many attacks on our camp at night, and all the neighbouring states were waiting to see the fortune of the Sirkar. If a reverse had taken place, they would have come down on our camp from the rear where the jungle was thick and difficult to guard.

The Sappers and Miners were set to work to mine under the walls. I was on guard one night at the entrance to one of these galleries, and about midnight a sentry reported that water was spreading over the surrounding fields. The enemy had let the water out of the big moat, and if I had not given warning in time, all the Miners would have been drowned, as mice are killed in the rains.¹¹ However the Sappers soon constructed walls of earth and diverted the water from the mine. This was on Christmas Day. Some weeks after this the gallery was continued under one of the bastions and we heard that the mine would be exploded. All our troops turned out to see the effect and the enemy, thinking an attack was imminent, manned the walls, and were busy bringing into action an enormous cannon which was positioned on the bastion under which the mine was laid. For a time there was a deep silence throughout our camp but the mine did not explode. The Sapper officers were very anxious, thinking that the enemy had counterminded. Several of them rushed to see whether the fuse had burnt out, when off went the mine and the bastion, together with the big cannon, men and all, were hurled into the moat. A hole was left in the fortress wall big enough to march a company through it.¹² The enemy fire ceased for a time for they were quite thunderstruck by the explosion. Our artillery kept up a brisk fire on the breach throughout the night, and next morning a storming party was formed. My company, and part of another, were included in the attacking column. Darjan's people fought desperately, but who can stand up against the charge of European soldiers?¹³

By ten o'clock that morning¹⁴ the far-famed fortress of Bharatpore was in the hands of the Sirkar. Darjan himself was captured while attempting to escape. There was plenty of loot and many sahibs acquired very valuable property.¹⁵ I found a handsome necklace on a woman who had been killed, and decided this would be my share. I thought I would put it round the neck of my son but I was seen by two European soldiers who took it away from me by force. They cut it in two, each taking half, but I later came across one of these men who was dead-drunk and I easily regained one half of the necklace without any need for force. Great numbers of the enemy, or rather people of the city, had been killed by shells and numbers had been destroyed by the mine. I went to look at the place of the explosion, and it was incredible. The large cannon had fallen into the ditch, crushing men beneath it like Juggernaut, but all these men had died at their guns and what better death could they have chosen?

This gun was called Fateh-jang-sir-phorhua, or the 'victorious in war—the head-smasher'. It was three musket lengths' long and the cannonball was the size of a large earthen pot. Engraved on the gun was the charge which amounted to 150 pounds of gunpowder. I have heard the sahibs talk of the big new guns they have in England but I can hardly believe that they are any bigger than four or five of the guns I saw at Bharatpore. In spite of all that had been said about this fortress, it did not cost us much to capture it.¹⁶ Not more than 50 sepoys were killed, and in the storming party furnished by my regiment we lost only 5 men killed and 15 wounded. The European troops lost about the same, but many sahibs were wounded because they persisted in going close up to the walls to fire their shot-guns and their rifles. This was strictly forbidden but the orders were disregarded. After this siege my regiment was sent to garrison several small forts in the neighbourhood, and my company was ordered to Biana Garhi. These places were soon dismantled, and the regiment then returned to Meerut after an absence of about one year.

There now came a new Lad Sahib to India who was much disliked by all the officers.¹⁷ He wished to reduce their pay and the sahibs nearly mutinied. They held many meetings in their own houses and were greatly disturbed. Many of them said they would serve the Government no longer. This Lad Sahib was sent by the Company Bahadur to save money, for, as a result of the great expense of the wars, they said they were very poor. But who can credit this? When did the Sirkar ever lack for money? I heard that the officers of one regiment asked the officers of another whether their men would stand by them if they marched to Calcutta to compel the Lad Sahib to give them their rights. I was also told that the European soldiers said they would not act against the officers of the Bengal Army so long as their object was the Batta¹⁸ alone. Every sahib at this time was angry and spoke much aginast the Sirkar, but most of the blame was laid on the new Lad Sahib. They said he was carrying out this injustice without orders, and only because he wished to curry favour with the Company.

The Sirkar compelled the young Rajah Balwant Singh to pay all the expenses of the war [at Bharatpore] now they had restored him to the throne, and this amounted to more than one crore of rupees.¹⁹ This was regarded as a great insult by many of the rajahs and nawabs who had hitherto looked upon the Sirkar as their friend and not as a paid ally. Some of them now boasted that they could hire the services of the English whenever they wanted them. I have heard that one rajah sent an agent to the Sirkar to enquire how much they would require to wallop another rajah who had insulted him, but this was bazaar gossip and may not be true. All kinds of news, both true and false, are discussed in the bazaars of large military stations, and anything injurious to the fortune of the Government is listened to with the keenest interest. This induces idle people with nothing better to do to invent news, and the greater the lie, the more it is believed—that is, if it is any way detrimental to the Sirkar. I remember during the Russian war, which was the only time when there was no war in India, that news was always fabricated to show that the Sirkar was usually defeated, and that the Russians had destroyed all the English soldiers and sunk all their warships. This idea was fostered by interested parties with the result that when the Mutiny broke out, most Indians believed that the Sirkar had no other troops than those which were already in India. Nothing could exceed the surprise of the rebels when they saw regiment after regiment pouring into the country. They then lost heart, realizing they had been deceived, and soon discovered it was useless to oppose the mighty power of the English.

After remaining two years at Meerut my regiment was sent to Shahjahanpore, and from thence to Karnal, and later to Ludhiana.²⁰ Nothing of note happened during these years except that there were some alterations in the sepoys' uniform, and rifle companies were formed in many regiments.²¹ Small wars took place every year in some part of Hindustan but my regiment did not take any share in them. I had been promoted to havildar, and also held the appointment of pay-havildar which in those days was a much sought-after appointment. Most of the sepoys in the company kept their money with me, and as this was seldom required by them except when they went on leave, I used to lend some of it at good interest. The money was shown at the end of every month to any sepoy who wanted to satisfy himself that it was safe, and this went on every month until I had accumulated the sum of 500 rupees. Pay-havildars also used to lend money to the sahibs; since all the sahibs' pay passed through our hands, there was little risk of losing the money unless a sahib died, in which case we did not dare to make a claim against his estate. The practice was forbidden but I seldom heard of anyone being punished for doing it. The officers' pay was large but it seldom sufficed for their wants. There were only two officers in my regiment who were not in debt, and many of them owed large amounts.

They spent a great part of their pay in giving entertainments; some gambled, while others lost large sums on the race-course. They are passionately fond of this sport. All the married sahibs were permanently in debt for their expenses are great. But some became poor through misfortune. The Captain of my company lost all his property when his boat sank in a river.²² He had no money with which to replace his property and I lent him 500 rupees. Unfortunately the time of furlough was at hand and the sepoys required their pay. Having lent some of theirs with my own, I was unable to make good the whole amount I should have had in my hands. I was reported to the Colonel sahib, and although I sold everything I possessed, and the Captain tried all he could to raise the money, I was still 137 rupees short. I was tried by court martial, found guilty of disobedience of orders, and sentenced to be deprived of my appointment as pay-havildar. Had it not been for my previous good conduct, I should have been reduced to the ranks again.

This was the first court I had ever appeared before. How entirely incomprehensible are the laws of the English for us Hindus! I was found guilty by a number of Indian officers of my own regiment, not one of whom thought I had done anything wrong, and every one of whom would have acted as I had done if they had been placed in my position. And yet, because they thought the Colonel desired me to be punished, they found me guilty. The European officers were equally well aware of the facts of the case, but the custom of the service required my punishment. The Articles of War are often read out to regiments, but the language is seldom understood, being nearly all Persian and Arabic. Some of it is of course intelligible, but the greater part, as with the orders of the Governor- General, etc., is far beyond the comprehension of any but those who have had a good education. As a general rule only two or three sepoys in a company understood what he must or must not do after hearing these orders read. In the first place the Interpreter sahib²³ nearly always reads too quickly, and secondly, he frequently mispronounces the words. Your Honour, a sepoy does not require a lot of rules and regulations to be read out to him. They only fill his head with doubts and fears. He should look upon his Commander as his father and mother, his protector, his god, and as such be taught to obey him.

We do not understand divided power; absolute power is what we worship. Power is much divided among the English. The Commanding Officer certainly has some power; also the Adjutant, and sometimes more than the Commander. The Commander-in-Chief has a great deal, the Governor-General still more, but they each have to ask some even higher authority before they can do anything. The Commanding Officer has to ask half a dozen officers before he can punish a sepoy and the permission takes months before it is received.²⁴ By the time the punishment is inflicted, half the men will have forgotten all about the case and the effect of the punishment entirely lost. I remember in one regiment that a havildar was tried by a court martial and dismissed the service for insolence to a superior officer—a crime for which he ought to have been flogged.²⁵ When his sentence was read out to him on parade, he turned and told his Commanding Officer that he would go straightaway to the Commander-in-Chief sahib and lodge an appeal. Another havildar was promoted in his place, but he went up to Simla, threw himself in front of the Governor-General’s lady, and cried out for justice and mercy. Within three months he was restored to the service and sent back to his old regiment, thereby laughing in the face of the General, Brigadier and his Commanding Officer. No sepoy worried about a court martial at that time, but this was in the days when any complaint received attention from the Commander-in-Chief. The Colonel sahib was furious, but he had no power, and what could he do?

The Commander ought to have the power of life and death. When the sword is 600 miles away,²⁶ who fears it? When sepoys find that their Commander is not really their Commander, they will always look up to some higher power. This was one reason for the Mutiny.

I have already said that the people of India worship power. They also love splendour and the display of wealth. A great impression is made on the masses by this—much greater than the English seem to believe. Our idea of the power and might of our kings and princes was always associated with magnificent equipments shining with gold and silver. Have we not thought this since we were children? Is it not the theme of every tale that is told? What then can we think of a Governor-General, or Lieutenant-Governor, when we see him as a sahib driving in a buggy without any ornaments or retinue? People in Government employment know that he has power, but the ordinary people consider him all sham, and he does not match up to their idea of a Rajah, Nawab, or even a minister. They then make comparisons which the Sirkar would not like to know. I have often asked the sahibs why they do not take a lesson from some of their memsahibs and wear more jewellery, for I have seen some English ladies looking as princesses ought to look when they go to their balls and dances. They have replied that it was considered shameful for a sahib to wear jewels or ornaments unless these happen to be awards of honour, but what I have seen of the latter have seemed to me to be very paltry. One sahib told me that his memsahib spent so much money on her jewels that it was impossible for him to wear any even should he feel inclined to do so.

We sometimes pay homage to peculiarities of character and superiority of intelligence but not so much as to outward pomp and magnificence. General 'Nickalseyn' sahib²⁷ was believed by some to be an incarnation of the Deity, and there are those who still mourn his removal from the world. General 'Jacum'²⁸ was looked upon as next to the Prophet Mahommed by many of the hill tribes, but I am told that he is also dead.

The Sirkar should remember that the value of a regiment of sepoys greatly depends on the Commanding Officer. If the men like him, if he understands them and can enter their feelings and has their confidence--which is not to be done in one day, or even in one year--and above all if he has power and is just, they will do anything, will go anywhere, and his word is law. But when someone completely strange to them and their feelings is sent to command them there is always discontent. Among us there is a great dislike for new ways. One sahib upsets what the other has done, and we do not know what to do because what we have been taught one day is wrong the next. I have known four Commanding Officers come to a regiment within a year, and three Adjutants, and two Quartermasters; and this was not as a result of officers having been killed in war. It takes us a long time to learn the ways of a sahib and once the men have got used to him it is wrong to have him removed.²⁹ Before the Mutiny any clever officer was always taken away from his regiment for some appointment, and he never came back for years. When he did come back he knew very little about the men. The Indian is not alone in his likes and dislikes of Commanding Officers; I can remember a European regiment which refused to advance against a Sikh battery of guns because they disliked their Colonel. They preferred to be turned into dust by cannon-fire rather than move. I heard that this officer was wounded- some say by his own men-and was succeeded by a popular officer. The men then instantly took the battery and drove the Sikhs like dust before the wind !