Reminiscences of the Great Mutiny 1857-59 Part 6

As this force was formed up in columns, masked from the view of the enemy by the barracks on the plain of Cawnpore, the Commander-in-Chief rode up, and told us that he had just got a telegram informing him of the safe arrival of the women and children, sick and wounded, at Allahabad, and that now we were to give battle to the famous Gwalior Contingent, consisting of twenty-five thousand well-disciplined troops, with about ten thousand of the Nana Sahib's Mahrattas and all the _budmashes_ of Cawnpore, Calpee, and Gwalior, under command of the Nana in person, who had proclaimed himself Peishwa and Chief of the Mahratta power, with Tantia Topee, Bala Sahib (the Nana's brother), and Raja Koor Sing, the Rajpoot Chief of Judgdespore, as divisional commanders, and with all the native officers of the Gwalior Contingent as brigade and regimental commanders. Sir Colin also warned us that there was a large quant.i.ty of rum in the enemy's camp, which we must carefully avoid, because it was reported to have been drugged. "But, Ninety-Third," he continued, "I trust you. The supernumerary rank will see that no man breaks the ranks, and I have ordered the rum to be destroyed as soon as the camp is taken."

The Chief then rode on to the other regiments and as soon as he had addressed a short speech to each, a signal was sent up from Peel's rocket battery, and General Wyndham opened the ball on his side with every gun at his disposal, attacking the enemy's left between the city and the river. Sir Colin himself led the advance, the Fifty-Third and Fourth Punjab Infantry in skirmis.h.i.+ng order, with the Ninety-Third in line, the cavalry on our left, and Peel's guns and the horse-artillery at intervals, with the Forty-Second in the second line for our support.

Directly we emerged from the shelter of the buildings which had masked our formation, the piquets fell back, the skirmishers advanced at the double, and the enemy opened a tremendous cannonade on us with round-shot, sh.e.l.l, and grape. But, nothing daunted, our skirmishers soon lined the ca.n.a.l, and our line advanced, with the pipers playing and the colours in front of the centre company, without the least wavering,--except now and then opening out to let through the round-shot which were falling in front, and rebounding along the hard ground-determined to show the Gwalior Contingent that they had different men to meet from those whom they had encountered under Wyndham a week before. By the time we reached the ca.n.a.l, Peel's Blue-jackets were calling out--"d.a.m.n these cow horses," meaning the gun-bullocks, "they're too slow! Come, you Ninety-Third, give us a hand with the drag-ropes as you did at Lucknow!" We were then well under the range of the enemy's guns, and the excitement was at its height. A company of the Ninety-Third slung their rifles, and dashed to the a.s.sistance of the Blue-jackets. The bullocks were cast adrift, and the native drivers were not slow in going to the rear. The drag-ropes were manned, and the 24-pounders wheeled abreast of the first line of skirmishers just as if they had been light field-pieces.

When we reached the bank the infantry paused for a moment to see if the ca.n.a.l could be forded or if we should have to cross by the bridge over which the light field-battery were pa.s.sing at the gallop, and unlimbering and opening fire, as soon as they cleared the head of the bridge, to protect our advance. At this juncture the enemy opened on us with grape and canister shot, but they fired high and did us but little damage. As the peculiar _whish_ (a sound when once heard never to be forgotten) of the grape was going over our heads, the Blue-jackets gave a ringing cheer for the "Red, white, and blue!" While the Ninety-Third, led off by Sergeant Daniel White, struck up _The Battle of the Alma_, a song composed in the Crimea by Corporal John Brown of the Grenadier Guards, and often sung round the camp-fires in front of Sebastopol. I here give the words, not for their literary merit, but to show the spirit of the men who could thus sing going into action in the teeth of the fire of thirty well-served, although not very correctly-aimed guns, to encounter a force of more than ten to one. Just as the Blue-jackets gave their hurrah for the "Red, white, and blue," Dan White struck up the song, and the whole line, including the skirmishers of the Fifty-Third and the sailors, joined in the stirring patriotic tune, which is a first-rate quick march:

Come, all you gallant British hearts Who love the Red and Blue,[30]

Come, drink a health to those brave lads Who made the Russians rue.

Fill up your gla.s.s and let it pa.s.s, Three cheers, and one cheer more, For the fourteenth of September, Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.

We sailed from Kalimita Bay, And soon we made the coast, Determined we would do our best In spite of brag and boast.

We sprang to land upon the strand, And slept on Russian sh.o.r.e, On the fourteenth of September, Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.

We marched along until we came Upon the Alma's banks, We halted just beneath their guns To breathe and close our ranks.

"Advance!" we heard, and at the word Right through the brook we bore, On the twentieth of September, Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.

We scrambled through the cl.u.s.tering vines, Then came the battle's brunt; Our officers, they cheered us on, Our colours waved in front; And fighting well full many fell, Alas! to rise no more, On the twentieth of September, Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.

The French were on the right that day, And flanked the Russian line, While full upon their left they saw The British bayonets s.h.i.+ne.

With hearty cheers we stunned their ears, Amidst the cannon's roar, On the twentieth of September, Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.

A picnic party Menschikoff Had asked to see the fun; The ladies came at twelve o'clock To see the battle won.

They found the day too hot to stay, The Prince felt rather sore, On the twentieth of September, Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.

For when he called his carriage up, The French came up likewise; And so he took French leave at once And left to them the prize.

The Cha.s.seurs took his pocket-book, They even sacked his store, On the twentieth of September, Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.

A letter to Old Nick they found, And this was what it said: "To meet their bravest men, my liege, Your soldiers do not dread; But devils they, not mortal men,"

The Russian General swore, "That drove us off the Alma's heights In September, fifty-four."

Long life to Royal Cambridge, To Peel and Camperdown, And all the gallant British Tars Who shared the great renown, Who stunned Russian ears with British cheers, Amidst the cannon's roar, On the twentieth of September, Eighteen hundred and fifty-four.

Here's a health to n.o.ble Raglan, To Campbell and to Brown, And all the gallant Frenchmen Who shared that day's renown.

Whilst we displayed the black c.o.c.kade, They the tricolour bore; The Russian crew wore gray and blue In September, fifty-four.

Come, let us drink a toast to-night, Our gla.s.ses take in hand, And all around this festive board In solemn silence stand.

Before we part let each true heart Drink once to those no more, Who fought their last fight on Alma's height In September, fifty-four!

Around our bivouac fires that night as _The Battle of the Alma_ was sung again, Daniel White told us that when the Blue-jackets commenced cheering under the hail of grape-shot, he remembered that the Scots Greys and Ninety-Second Highlanders had charged at Waterloo singing _Bruce's Address at Bannockburn_, "Scots wha hae," and trying to think of something equally appropriate in which Peel's Brigade might join, he could not at the moment recall anything better than the old Crimean song aforesaid.

After clearing the ca.n.a.l and re-forming our ranks, we came under shelter of a range of brick kilns behind which stood the camp of the enemy, and behind the camp their infantry were drawn up in columns, not deployed in line. The rum against which Sir Colin had warned us was in front of the camp, casks standing on end with the heads knocked out for convenience; and there is no doubt but the enemy expected the Europeans would break their ranks when they saw the rum, and had formed up their columns to fall on us in the event of such a contingency. But the Ninety-Third marched right on past the rum barrels, and the supernumerary rank soon upset the casks, leaving the contents to soak into the dry ground.

As soon as we cleared the camp, our line of infantry was halted. Up to that time, except the skirmishers, we had not fired a shot, and we could not understand the reason of the halt till we saw the Ninth Lancers and the detachment of Hodson's Horse galloping round some fields of tall sugar-cane on the left, masking the light field-battery. When the enemy saw the tips of the lances (they evidently did not see the guns) they quickly formed squares of brigades. They were armed with the old musket, "Brown Bess," and did not open fire till the cavalry were within about three hundred yards. Just as they commenced to fire, we could hear Sir Hope Grant, in a voice as loud as a trumpet, give the command to the cavalry, "Squadrons, outwards!" while Bourchier gave the order to his gunners, "Action, front!" The cavalry wheeled as if they had been at a review on the Calcutta parade-ground; the guns, having previously been charged with grape, were swung round, unlimbered as quick as lightning within about two hundred and fifty yards of the squares, and round after round of grape was poured into the enemy with murderous effect, every charge going right through, leaving a lane of dead from four to five yards wide. By this time our line was advanced close up behind the battery, and we could see the mounted officers of the enemy, as soon as they caught sight of the guns, dash out of the squares and fly like lightning across the plain. Directly the squares were broken, our cavalry charged, while the infantry advanced at the double with the bayonet. The battle was won, and the famous Gwalior Contingent was a flying rabble, although the struggle was protracted in a series of hand-to-hand fights all over the plain, no quarter being given. Peel's guns were wheeled up, as already mentioned, as if they had been 6-pounders, and the left wing of the enemy taken in rear and their retreat on the Calpee road cut off. What escaped of their right wing fled along this road. The cavalry and horse-artillery led by Sir Colin Campbell in person, the whole of the Fifty-Third, the Fourth Punjab Infantry, and two companies of the Ninety-Third, pursued the flying ma.s.s for fourteen miles. The rebels, being cut down by hundreds wherever they attempted to rally for a stand, at length threw away their arms and accoutrements to expedite their flight, for none were spared,--"neither the sick man in his weakness, nor the strong man in his strength," to quote the words of Colonel Alison. The evening closed with the total rout of the enemy, and the capture of his camp, the whole of his ordnance-park, containing a large quant.i.ty of ammunition and thirty-two guns of sizes, siege-train, and field-artillery, with a loss of only ninety-nine killed and wounded on our side.

As night fell, large bodies of the left wing of the enemy were seen retreating from the city between our piquets and the Ganges, but we were too weary and too few in number to intercept them, and they retired along the Bithoor road. About midnight the force which had followed the enemy along the Calpee road returned, bringing in a large number of ammunition-waggons and baggage-carts, the bullocks driven by our men, and those not engaged in driving sitting on the waggons or carts, too tired and footsore to walk. We rested hungry and exhausted, but a man of my company, named Bill Summers, captured a little pack-bullock loaded with two bales of stuff which turned out to be fine soft woollen socks of Loodiana manufacture, sufficient to give every man in the company three pairs,--a real G.o.dsend for us, since at that moment there was nothing we stood more in need of than socks; and as no commissariat had come up from the rear, we slaughtered the bullock and cut it into steaks, which we broiled on the tips of our ramrods around the bivouac fires. Thus we pa.s.sed the night of the 6th of December, 1857.

Early on the morning of the 7th a force was sent into the city of Cawnpore, and patrolled it from end to end, east, west, north, and south. Not only did we meet no enemy, but many of the townspeople brought out food and water to our men, appearing very glad to see us.

During the afternoon our tents came up from the rear, and were pitched by the side of the Grand Trunk road, and the Forty-Second being put on duty that night, we of the Fifty-Third and Ninety-Third were allowed to take our accoutrements off for the first night's sleep without them since the 10th of November--seven and twenty days! Our spare kits having all vanished with the enemy, as told in the last chapter, our quarter-master collected from the captured baggage all the underclothing and socks he could lay hands on. Thanks to Bill Summers and the little pack-bullock, my company got a change of socks; but there was more work before us before we got a bath or a change of s.h.i.+rts.

About noon on the 8th the Commander-in-Chief, accompanied by Sir Hope Grant and Brigadier Adrian Hope, had our brigade turned out, and as soon as Sir Colin rode in among us we knew there was work to be done. He called the officers to the front, and addressing them in the hearing of the men, told them that the Nana Sahib had pa.s.sed through Bithoor with a large number of men and seventeen guns, and that we must all prepare for another forced march to overtake him and capture these guns before he could either reach Futtehghur or cross into Oude with them. After stating that the camp would be struck as soon as we had got our dinners, the Commander-in-Chief and Sir Hope Grant held a short but animated conversation, which I have always thought was a prearranged matter between them for our encouragement. In the full hearing of the men, Sir Hope Grant turned to the Commander-in-Chief, and said, in rather a loud tone: "I'm afraid, your Excellency, this march will prove a wild-goose chase, because the infantry, in their present tired state, will never be able to keep up with the cavalry." On this, Sir Colin turned round in his saddle, and looking straight at us, replied in a tone equally loud, so as to be heard by all the men: "I tell you, General Grant, you are wrong. You don't know these men; these Highlanders will march your cavalry blind." And turning to the men, as if expecting to be corroborated by them, he was answered by over a dozen voices, "Ay, ay, Sir Colin, we'll show them what we can do!"

As soon as dinner was over we struck tents, loaded them on the elephants, and by two o'clock P.M. were on the march along the Grand Trunk road. By sunset we had covered fifteen miles from Cawnpore. Here we halted, lit fires, cooked tea, served out grog, and after a rest of three hours, to feed and water the horses as much as to rest the men, we were off again. By five A.M. on the 9th of December we had reached the thirtieth mile from the place where we started, and the scouts brought word to the general that we were ahead of the flying enemy. We then turned off the road to our right in the direction of the Ganges, and by eight o'clock came in sight of the enemy at Serai _ghat_, a ferry twenty-five miles above Cawnpore, preparing to embark the guns of which we were in pursuit.

Our cavalry and horse-artillery at once galloped to the front through ploughed fields, and opened fire on the boats. The enemy returned the fire, and some Mahratta cavalry made a dash at the guns, but their charge was met by the Ninth Lancers and the detachment of Hodson's Horse, and a number of them cut down. Seeing the infantry advancing in line, the enemy broke and fled for the boats, leaving all their fifteen guns, a large number of ordnance waggons loaded with ammunition, and a hundred carts filled with their baggage and the plunder of Cawnpore. Our horse-artillery and infantry advanced right up to the banks of the river and kept up a hot fire on the retreating boats, swamping a great number of them. The Nana Sahib was among this lot; but the spies reported that his boat was the first to put off, and he gained the Oude side in safety, though some thousands of his Mahratta rebels must have been drowned or killed. This was some return we felt for his treachery at Suttee Chowrah _ghat_ six months before. It was now our turn to be peppering the flying boats! There were a number of women and children left by the routed rebels among their baggage-carts; they evidently expected to be killed, but were escorted to a village in our rear, and left there. We showed them that we had come to war with men--not to butcher women! By the afternoon we had dragged the whole of the captured guns back from the river, and our tents coming up under the rear-guard, we encamped for the night, glad enough to get a rest.

On the morning of the 10th our quarter-master divided among us a lot of s.h.i.+rts and underclothing, mostly what the enemy had captured at Cawnpore, a great part of which we had now recovered; and we were allowed to go by wings to undress and have a bath in the sacred Ganges, and to change our underclothing, which we very much needed to do. The condition of our flannel s.h.i.+rts is best left undescribed, while our bodies round our waists, where held tight by our belts, were eaten to raw flesh. We sent our s.h.i.+rts afloat on the sacred waters of Mother Gunga, glad to be rid of them, and that night we slept in comfort. Even now, thirty-five years after, the recollection of the state of my own flannel when I took it off makes me s.h.i.+ver. This is not a pleasant subject, but I am writing these reminiscences for the information of our soldiers of to-day, and merely stating facts, to let them understand something of what the soldiers of the Mutiny had to go through.

Up to this time, the columns of the British had been mostly acting, as it were, on the defensive; but from the date of the defeat of the Gwalior Contingent, our star was in the ascendant, and the att.i.tude of the country people showed that they understood which was the winning side. Provisions, such as b.u.t.ter, milk, eggs, and fruit, were brought into our camp by the villagers for sale the next morning, sparingly at first, but as soon as the people found that they were well received and honestly paid for their supplies, they came in by scores, and from that time there was no scarcity of provisions in our bazaars.

We halted at Serai _ghat_ for the 11th and 12th December, and on the 13th marched back in triumph to Bithoor with our captured guns. The reason of our return to Bithoor was because spies had reported that the Nana Sahib had concealed a large amount of treasure in a well there near the palace of the ex-Peishwa of Poona. Rupees to the amount of thirty _lakhs_[31] were recovered, which had been packed in ammunition-boxes and sunk in a well; also a very large amount of gold and silver plate and other valuables, among other articles a silver howdah which had been the state howdah of the ex-Peishwa. Besides the rupees, the plate and other valuables recovered were said to be worth more than a million sterling, and it was circulated in the force that each private soldier would receive over a thousand rupees in prize-money. But we never got a _pie_![32] All we did get was hard work. The well was large. Four strong frames were erected on the top of it by the sappers, and large leathern buckets with strong iron frames, with ropes attached, were brought from Cawnpore; then a squad of twenty-five men was put on to each rope, and relieved every three hours, two buckets keeping the water down and two drawing up treasure. Thus we worked day and night from the 15th to the 26th of December, the Forty-Second, Fifty-Third, and Ninety-Third supplying the working-parties for pulling, and the Bengal Sappers furnis.h.i.+ng the men to work in the well; these last, having to stand in the water all the time, were relieved every hour. It was no light work to keep the water down, so as to allow the sappers to sling the boxes containing the rupees, and to lift three million rupees, or thirty _lakhs_, out from a deep well required considerable labour. But the men, believing that the whole would be divided as prize-money, worked with a will. A paternal Government, however, ignored our general's a.s.surance on this head, on the plea that we had merely recovered the treasure carried off by the Nana from Cawnpore. The plate and jewellery belonging to the ex-Peishwa were also claimed by the Government as State property, and the troops got--nothing! We had even to pay from our own pockets for the replacement of our kits which were taken by the Gwalior Contingent when they captured Wyndham's camp.

About this time _The Ill.u.s.trated London News_ reached India with a picture purporting to be that of the Nana Sahib. I forget the date of the number which contained this picture; but I first saw it in Bithoor some time between the 15th and 25th December 1857. I will now give the history of that picture, and show how Ajoodia Pershad, commonly known as Jotee Pershad, the commissariat contractor, came to figure as the Nana Sahib in the pages of _The Ill.u.s.trated London News_. It is a well-known fact that there is no authentic portrait of the Nana in existence; it is even a.s.serted that he was never painted by any artist, and photography had not extended to Upper India before 1857. I believe this is the first time that the history of the picture published as that of the Nana Sahib by _The Ill.u.s.trated London News_ has been given. I learnt the facts which I am about to relate some years after the Mutiny, under a promise of secrecy so long as my informant, the late John Lang, barrister-at-law and editor and proprietor of _The Mofussilite_, should be alive. As both he and Ajoodia Pershad have been many years dead, I commit no breach of confidence in now telling the story. The picture purporting to be that of the Nana having been published in 1857, it rightly forms a reminiscence of the Mutiny, although much of the following tale occurred several years earlier; but to make the history of the picture complete, the facts which led to it must be noticed.

There are but few Europeans now in India who remember the scandal connected with the trial of Ajoodia Pershad, the commissariat contractor, for payment for the supplies and carriage of the army throughout the second Sikh war. When it came to a final settlement of his accounts with the Commissariat Department, Ajoodia Pershad claimed three and a half _crores_ of rupees (equal to three and a half millions sterling), in excess of what the auditor would pa.s.s as justly due to him; and the Commissariat Department, backed by the Government of India, not only repudiated the claim, but put Ajoodia Pershad on his trial for falsification of accounts and attempting to defraud the Government.

There being no high courts in those days, nor trial by jury, corrupt or otherwise, for natives in the Upper Provinces, an order of the Governor-General in Council was pa.s.sed for the trial of Ajoodia Pershad by special commission, with the judge-advocate-general as prosecutor.

The trial was ordered to be held at Meerut, and the commission a.s.sembled there, commencing its sittings in the Artillery mess-house during the cold weather of 1851-52. There were no barristers or pleaders in India in those days--at least in the Mofussil, and but few in the presidency towns; but Ajoodia Pershad, being a very wealthy man, sent an agent to England, and engaged the services of Mr. John Lang, barrister-at-law, to come out and defend him. John Lang left England in May, 1851, and came out round the Cape in one of Green's celebrated liners, the _Nile_, and he reached Meerut about December, when the trial commenced.

Everything went swimmingly with the prosecution till Mr. Lang began his cross-examination of the witnesses, he having reserved his privilege till he heard the whole case for the prosecution. Directly the cross-examination commenced, the weakness of the Government case became apparent. I need not now recall how the commissary-general, the deputy commissary-general, and their a.s.sistants were made to contradict each other, and to contradict themselves out of their own mouths. Mr. Lang, who appeared in court every day in his wig and gown, soon became a noted character in Meerut, and the night before he was to sum up the case for the defence, some officers in the Artillery mess asked him his opinion of the members of the commission. Not being a teetotaller, Mr. Lang may have been at the time somewhat under the influence of "John Exshaw," who was the ruling spirit in those days, and he replied that the whole batch, president and members, including the judge-advocate-general, were a parcel of "d--d _soors_."[33] Immediately several officers present offered to lay a bet of a thousand rupees with Mr. Lang that he was not game to tell them so to their faces in open court the following day.

Lang accepted the bet, the stakes were deposited, and an umpire appointed to decide who should pocket the money. When the court re-a.s.sembled next morning, the excitement was intense. Mr. Lang opened his address by pulling the evidence for the prosecution to shreds, and warming to his work, he went at it somewhat as follows--I can only give the purport:--"Gentlemen of the commission forming this court, I now place the dead carca.s.s of this shameful case before you in all its naked deformity, and the more we stir it up the more it stinks! The only stink in my long experience that I can compare it to is the experience gained in the saloon of the _Nile_ on my pa.s.sage out to India the day after a pig was slaughtered. We had a pig's cheek at the head of the table [indicating the president of the commission]; we had a roast leg of pork on the right [pointing to another member]; we had a boiled leg, also pork, on the left [indicating a third member]"; and so on he went till he had apportioned out the whole carca.s.s of the supposed pig amongst the members of the commission. Then, turning to the judge-advocate-general, who was a little man dressed in an elaborately frilled s.h.i.+rt, and his a.s.sistant, who was tall and thin, pointing to each in turn, Mr. Lang proceeded,--"And for side-dishes we had chitterlings on one side, and sausages on the other. In brief, the whole saloon smelt of nothing but pork: and so it is, gentlemen, with this case. It is the Government of India who has ordered this trial. It is for the interest of that Government that my client should be convicted; therefore every member on this commission is a servant of Government. The officers representing the prosecution are servants of Government, and every witness for the prosecution is also a servant of Government. In brief, the whole case against my client is nothing but pork, and a disgrace to the Government of India, and to the Honourable East India Company, who have sanctioned this trial, and who put every obstacle in my way to prevent my coming out to defend my client. I repeat my a.s.sertion that the case is a disgrace to the Honourable Company and the Government of India, and to every servant of that Government who has had any finger in the manufacture of this pork-pie." And so Mr. Lang continued, showing how Ajoodia Pershad had come forward to the a.s.sistance of the State in its hour of need, by supplying carriage for the materials of the army and rations for the troops, and so forth, till the judge-advocate-general declared that he felt ashamed to be connected with the case. The result was that Ajoodia Pershad was acquitted on all counts, and decreed to be ent.i.tled to his claims in full, and the umpire decided that Mr. Lang had won the bet of a thousand rupees.

But my readers may ask--What has all this to do with the portrait of the Nana Sahib? I am just coming to that. After his honourable acquittal, Ajoodia Pershad was so grateful to Mr. Lang that he presented him with an honorarium of three _lakhs_ of rupees, equal in those days to over 30,000, in addition to the fees on his brief; and Mr. Lang happening to say that he would very much like to have a portrait of his generous client, Ajoodia Pershad presented him with one painted by a famous native artist of those days, and the portrait was enshrined in a jewelled frame worth another twenty-five thousand rupees. To the day of his death Mr. Lang used to carry this portrait with him wherever he went. When the Mutiny broke out he was in London, and the artists of _The Ill.u.s.trated London News_ were calling on every old Indian of position known to be in England, to try and get a portrait of the Nana.

One of them was informed that Mr. Lang possessed a picture of an Indian prince--then, as now, all Indians were princes to the British public--which might be that of the arch-a.s.sa.s.sin of Cawnpore. The artist lost no time in calling on Mr. Lang to see the picture, and when he saw it he declared it was just the thing he wanted. Mr. Lang protested, pointing out that the picture no more resembled the Nana of Bithoor than it did her Gracious Majesty the Queen of England; that neither the dress nor the position of the person represented in the picture could pa.s.s in India for a Mahratta chief. The artist declared he did not care for people in India: he required the picture for the people of England. So he carried it off to the engraver, and in the next issue of _The Ill.u.s.trated London News_ the picture of Ajoodia Pershad, the commissariat contractor, appeared as that of the Nana Sahib. When those in India who had known the Nana saw it, they declared it had no resemblance to him whatever, and those who had seen Ajoodia Pershad declared that the Nana was very like Ajoodia Pershad. But no one could understand how the Nana could ever have allowed himself to be painted in the dress of a Marwaree banker. To the day of his death John Lang was in mortal fear lest Ajoodia Pershad should ever come to hear how his picture had been allowed to figure as that of the arch-a.s.sa.s.sin of the Indian Mutiny.

So much for the Nana's picture. By Christmas Day, 1857, we had recovered all the gold and silver plate of the ex-Peishwa and the thirty _lakhs_ of treasure from the well in Bithoor, and on the morning of the 27th we marched for the recapture of Futtehghur, which was held by a strong force under the Nawab of Furruckabad. But I must leave the re-occupation of Futtehghur for another chapter.

NOTE

Jotee Pershad was the native banker who, during the height of the Mutiny, victualled the Fort of Agra and saved the credit, if not the lives, of the members of the Government of the North-West Provinces.

FOOTNOTES:

[29] Now Lieutenant-General Sir Hugh Gough, V.C., K.C.B.

[30] "Red and Blue "--the Army and Navy. The tune is _The British Grenadiers_.

[31] A _lakh_ is 100,000, so that, at the exchange of the day, the amount of cash captured was 306,250.

[32] One _pie_ is half a farthing.

[33] Pigs.

CHAPTER IX