Loe raamatut: «The History of the Indian Revolt and of the Expeditions to Persia, China and Japan 1856-7-8», lehekülg 80

CHAPTER XXIX.
PROGRESS OF EVENTS IN MAY

When, on the 10th of May 1858, the course of twelve months had been completed since the commencement of the mutiny, the nation looked back at the events of that period as a terrible episode in the history of British dominion. Into how many thousands of families mourning had been introduced by it, no one correctly knew; the problem was a dismal one, which few had the heart to investigate. Those who, not affected by private grief, or hiding their grief in a sense of public duty, viewed the twelvemonth’s conflict in a national sense, saw in it a mingled cause for humiliation and pride – humiliation that British rule should be so trampled on by those who had been long and peacefully under it; pride that so many public servants, so many private persons, should have proved worthy of their country in a time of severe and bitter trial. In military matters, the once great Bengal native army had almost ceased to exist. Twenty thousand disarmed sepoys were in and near the Punjaub, carefully watched lest they should join the ranks of the insurgents; disarmed regiments were similarly detained elsewhere; others had been almost annihilated by twelve months of fierce warfare; others were still engaged as the nuclei of rebel armies; while the number of Bengal sepoys was very small indeed, reckoned by hundreds rather than thousands, who still fought faithfully on the side of the British. The Madras and Bombay troops had, happily for India and England’s interest therein, remained almost wholly ‘true to their salt;’ enabling the governors of those two presidencies to send gallant field-forces into the disturbed northern and central provinces. Sikhs, Punjaubees, Moultanese, Scindians, Beloochees, and hill-men on the Afghan frontier, had rendered services of such lasting importance in Hindostan, that they may almost be regarded as the preservers of the English ‘raj;’ this they had been enabled to do from two causes – the want of sympathy between the mutineers and those northwestern tribes; and the admirable system of Punjaub government organised by the Lawrences. In civil matters, India had witnessed the almost total breaking up of the ordinary revenue and magisterial arrangements, in provinces containing at least fifty millions of souls; Europeans driven into hiding-places, even if not murdered; and treasuries plundered by bands of ruffians, who gladly hailed the state of anarchy brought on by the mutiny of the sepoy regiments. Among the superior members of the government, Viscount Canning still maintained his position, battling against unnumbered difficulties; Sir Colin Campbell still remained at the head of the army, well aware that his utmost skill as a military commander would long be needed; and Sir John Lawrence still held the Punjaub in his wonderful grasp, displaying governing powers of the very highest order at an eminently critical time. On the other hand, the Anglo-Indians had to mourn over a sad death-list. Henry Lawrence, Havelock, Colvin, Neill, Venables, Nicholson, William Peel, Adrian Hope, Wheeler, Barnard, Banks, Battye – all, and a vast many more gallant spirits, had sunk under the terrible pressure of the past twelve months.

Appropriating the present chapter to a rapid glance at the progress of events in the month of May, and beginning (as usual) with the Bengal regions, we may conveniently notice two or three arrangements made by the Calcutta government, bearing relation either to the state of the army, or to the condition of civilians affected by the mutiny.

Among the earliest measures taken to reconstruct the Bengal army, so shattered by the mutiny, was one announced in a government notification on the 7th of May. It was to the effect that four regiments of Bengal European cavalry should be formed, in lieu of eight regiments of Bengal native cavalry, erased from the list of the establishment for mutinous conduct. Each regiment was to consist of 1 colonel, 2 lieutenant-colonels, 2 majors, 14 captains, 18 lieutenants, 8 cornets, 1 adjutant, 1 interpreter and quartermaster, 4 surgeons and assistants, 119 non-commissioned and subordinate officers of various kinds, and 700 privates; making a total of 870 – an unusually large number for a cavalry regiment. In addition to these, there were to be native syces, grass-cutters, and quarter-masters, attached to each regiment; and various persons employed at the depôt. The pay was to be the same as in the royal dragoon regiments. Each regiment was to be divided into ten troops. As the officers were to be about doubly as numerous as the English officers in the disbanded native regiments, it was calculated that the four new would absorb the officers of eight old regiments. The regiments thus extinguished by this first process, were the 1st, 2d, 3d, 4th, 6th, 7th, 9th, and 10th Bengal native cavalry; the 5th and the 8th were left to be dealt with at some subsequent period. As for any larger measures connected with the reconstruction of a native Bengal army, these were left for determination at a later period, after collating the opinions of the most experienced authorities in India.

The distress experienced by the British troops from the intense heat of the Indian sun, and the severe strictures passed by the press and by members of the legislature on those regimental officers who permitted or compelled their soldiers to swelter in red cloth, led to the issuing of orders concerning light summer clothing. It was found that a kind of gray or dust-coloured linen called khakee or carkey was better suited than anything else – even white – as a material for clothing in the hot season; and hence the issuing of an order by the adjutant-general, on the 21st of May, to the effect noted below.¹⁶⁰ This question concerning appropriate clothing had long been discussed by military men in India: the officers of greatest experience being those who most disapproved the wearing of closely fitting garments in such a climate. General Jacob had resolutely contended against the adoption of English uniforms by the sepoys of the Company’s army. He said: ‘A sepoy of the line, dressed in a tight coat; trousers in which he can scarcely walk, and cannot stoop at all; bound to an immense and totally useless knapsack, so that he can scarcely breathe; strapped, belted, and pipe-clayed within an inch of his life; with a rigid basket-shako on his head, which requires the skill of a juggler to balance, and which cuts deep into his brow if worn for an hour; and with a leather-stock round his neck, to complete his absurd costume – when compared with the same sepoy, clothed, armed, and accoutred solely with regard to his comfort and efficiency – forms the most perfect example of what is madly called the “regular” system with many European officers, contrasted with the system of common sense now recommended for adoption.’ The graphic description by Mr Russell, of the officers and men in Sir Colin Campbell’s army of Oude, shews how eager soldiers are to get rid of their irksome uniforms when permitted, under the influence of a heat denoted by the cabalistic mark 100° F. or 110° F.: ‘Except the Highlanders – and when they left Lucknow they were panting for their summer clothes, and had sent officers to Cawnpore to hurry them – not a corps that I have seen sport a morsel of pink or shew a fragment of English scarlet. The Highlanders wear eccentric shades of gray linen over their bonnets – the kilt is discarded, or worn out in some regiments; and flies, mosquitoes, and the sun are fast rendering it impossible in the others. Already many officers who can get trews have discarded the ponderous folds of woollen stuff tucked into massive wads over the hips, and have provided some defence against the baking of their calves by day, and have sought to protect their persons against the assaults of innumerable entomological enemies by night. The artillery had been furnished with excellent head-covers and good frocks of light stuff… The 7th Hussars, the Military Train, have vestiary idiosyncrasies of their own; but there is some sort of uniformity among the men. Among the officers, individual taste and fantasy have full play. The infantry regiments, for the most part, are dressed in linen frocks, dyed carkey or gray slate-colour – slate-blue trousers, and shakos protected by puggerees, or linen covers, from the sun. The peculiarity of carkey is that the dyer seems to be unable to match it in any two pieces, and that it exhibits endless varieties of shade, varying with every washing, so that the effect is rather various than pleasing on the march or on the parade-ground. But the officers, as I have said, do not confine themselves to carkey or anything else. It is really wonderful what fecundity of invention in dress there is, after all, in the British mind when its talents can be properly developed. To begin with the head-dress. The favourite wear is a helmet of varying shape, but of uniform ugliness… Whatever it might be in polished steel or burnished metal, the helmet is a decided failure in felt, or wicker-work, or pith, so far as external effect is concerned. It is variously fabricated, with many varieties of interior ducts and passages leading to escape-holes for imaginary hot air in the front or top, and around it are twisted infinite colours and forms of turbans with fringed ends and laced fringes. When a peacock’s feather, with the iris end displayed, is inserted in the hole in the top of the helmet, or is stuck in the puggeree around it, the effect of the covering is much enhanced; and this style is rather patronised by some of the staff. The coat may be of any cut or material, but shooting-jackets hold their own in the highest posts; and a carkey-coloured jerkin, with a few inches of iron curb-chain sewed on the shoulders to resist sabre-cuts, is a general favourite… As to the clothing of the nether man, nothing but a series of photographs could give the least notion of the numerous combinations which can be made out of a leg, leather, pantaloons, and small-clothes. Long stage-boots of buff-coloured leather – for the manufacture of which Cawnpore is famous – pulled up over knee-breeches of leather or regimental trousers, are common. There are officers who prefer wearing their Wellingtons outside their pantaloons, thus exhibiting tops of very bright colours; and the boot and baggy trousers of the Zouave officer are not unknown.’

The next point to be adverted to affected civilians and private traders more extensively than the military. The compensation to sufferers by the mutiny, a much-disputed question for nearly twelve months, was put into a train for settlement by a government order issued at Calcutta in May. This order applied to Bengal only, as being a region quite large enough to be brought within one set of official rules. The compensation was to be for loss of property and effects, leaving losses affecting life or health to be settled by a distinct machinery. A Mr E. Jackson was appointed at Calcutta as commissioner to inquire into claims for compensation. A limit was named, the 26th of August, after which no claims would be received from persons resident in India: an extension of time being allowed for those who were not in that country. In cases where the amount claimed did not exceed fifty thousand rupees, the application to the commissioner was to be accompanied by a detailed statement of the particulars of the claim, and of the evidence adducible in support of it; but where the property was of higher amount, the regulation required only a general estimate to accompany the application, a further period of three months being allowed for the preparation and submission of the detailed statement of losses. It was at the same time very pointedly mentioned that these preliminary operations did not constitute an actual claim on the Company for any compensation whatever. ‘It is to be understood that the registry of applications above provided for does not imply any recognition of claims to compensation; the Honourable Court of Directors having expressly reserved their final decision upon the question, whether or not compensation for losses sustained by the mutiny shall be awarded.’ The Company probably deemed it wise, in the uncertainty how large might be the total aggregate sum claimed, to avoid any formal pledge that these compensations could be rightfully demanded and would be really paid. The above, we have said, applied to Bengal; but about the same time a similar notification appeared at Allahabad, applicable to the Northwest Provinces. Mr C. Grant and Mr E. H. Longden were named commissioners to record and register claims. The conditions were generally the same as those in Bengal; and to them was added an announcement that ‘Applications will be received, subject to the same rules, from natives of the country for compensation, on account of loss of property caused by their known loyalty and attachment to the British government.’ A similar announcement was afterwards made, extending the boon to the province of Oude.

Superadded to the arrangements made for the succour of those who had borne pecuniary loss by the mutiny, was one dated May 25th. This was to the effect that some provision would be made for the relief of the destitute families of persons who had died after the loss of their property, even though the death were not occasioned by the mutiny. It was thereupon determined that grants of money should be given to families rendered impoverished by this double calamity; the grants to be regulated on the same principle as those allowed to European and native officers of the government.

One of the resolutions arrived at by the authorities at Calcutta gave very general satisfaction – except to a few officers jealous of any encroachments on the privileges of the army. Whether suggested at home, or in India, the movement was in the right direction. The regulation was to the effect that civilians who had distinguished themselves in the field since the commencement of the mutiny, or who should so distinguish themselves before the mutiny ended, should be allowed to participate in the honours which had hitherto been considered peculiar to the military service. The civil servants of the Company, as a body, greatly raised themselves in the estimation of the nation by the gallantry which many of them displayed under circumstances of great peril – not only in defending their posts against large bodies of insurgents, but in sharing those field and siege operations which are more immediately sources of honour to military men. What those honours were to be, depended partly on the crown, partly on the Company; but the object of the order was to shew that the civil position of a gallant man should not necessarily be a bar to his occupancy of an honoured place among military men.

In entering now upon the military operations of the month, it is satisfactory to know that nothing important presents itself for record in connection with the eastern regions of Bengal. There were few or no actual mutinies, for reasons more than once assigned in former chapters. Notwithstanding this safety, however – partly through the superstitious character of the natives of India, and partly through the uneasy feeling prevailing in the minds of Europeans during the mutiny – the newspapers were frequently engaged in discussing mysteries, rumours, and prophecies of a strange character. One, connected more with Bengal than with the other provinces, related to ‘something white,’ which was to be ominous of British rule in India. Where it arose, or how, remained as undiscoverable as the chupatty mystery; but the rumour put on various forms at different times and places. At Tipperah, the native story told of a ‘white thing’ which would be unprocurable after some time. At Chittagong, a particular day was named, when, ‘out of four things, three would be given and one withheld;’ and at Jessore, the bazaar-people became so excited concerning a prophetic rumour of an equally enigmatical kind, that the magistrate endeavoured to elicit something from his police-darogah that might explain it; but the man either could not or would not tell how the story arose. In Dacca and other places the prediction assumed this form – that after a certain period, a certain ‘white thing’ would cease to exist in India; and in some instances the exact interval was named, ‘three months and thirteen days.’

Occasionally, the authorities found it necessary to watch very closely the proceedings of Mohammedan fanatics; who, at Burdwan, Jessore, Rungpoor, and other places, were detected in attempts to rouse up the people to a religious war. Fortunately, the townsmen and villagers did not respond to these appeals. Southwest of Calcutta, the Sumbhulpore district, disturbed occasionally by rebel bands intent on plunder, was kept for the most part tranquil by the firm management of Colonel Forster. In the month of May he hit upon the plan of inviting the still faithful chieftains of the districts to furnish each a certain number of soldiers to defend British interests, on promise of a due recognition of their services afterwards. The chieftains raised two thousand matchlockmen among them, and took up such positions as Colonel Forster indicated – a measure which completely frustrated and cowed the rebels.

We may pass at once to a consideration of the state of affairs in Behar or Western Bengal, comprising the districts around what may be called the Middle Ganges. This region, as former chapters have sufficiently told, and as a glance at a map will at once shew, contains many important cities and towns, which were thrown into great commotion by the mutiny – such as Patna, Dinapoor, Arrah, Buxar, Azimghur, Goruckpore, Ghazeepore, Jounpoor, Sasseram, Benares, Chunargur, and Mirzapore. It is true that many of these were formerly included within the government of the ‘Northwest Provinces,’ and then in that of the ‘Central Provinces;’ but this is a matter of little consequence to our present purpose; if we consider them all to belong to the Mid-Ganges region, it will suffice for the present purpose.

The condition of the region just defined, during May, depended mainly on the relation between Sir Edward Lugard on the one hand, and the Jugdispore rebels on the other. How it fared with this active general and the troops under his command, when April closed, we have already seen. It will be remembered that about the middle of that month, Koer Singh took up a strong position at Azimutgurh, from which Lugard deemed it necessary to dislodge him; that Lugard himself remained encamped at Azimghur with the bulk of his Azimghur field-force, in order that he might watch the proceedings of numerous bands of rebels under the Rajahs of Nuhurpoor and Naweejer and Gholam Hossein, hovering about the districts of Sandah, Mundoree, and Koelser; but that he made up a strong column to pursue Koer Singh. This column, placed under the command of Brigadier Douglas, consisted of the following troops: H.M. 4th foot; a wing of the 37th foot; a detachment of Punjaub Sappers; two squadrons of Sikh cavalry; a squadron of the Military Train; and nine guns and mortars. Then followed the series of cross-purposes, in which Koer Singh was permitted or enabled to work much more mischief than Sir Edward had anticipated. The events may briefly be recapitulated thus: On the 17th and 18th, Douglas, after starting with his column from Azimghur, came up with the rebels, defeated them at Azimutgurh, and chased them to Ghosee, Nugra, and Secunderpore. On the 19th he found that they intended to cross the Gogra before he could come up to them in pursuit – an intention which he strove to render nugatory. On the 20th he encountered them again, at Muneer Khas, defeated them with great slaughter, captured most of their munitions of war, and dispersed the rebels, the main body of whom fled towards Bullah and Beyriah. On the 21st, Douglas had the mortification, on reaching Sheopore, of finding that Koer Singh had outwitted the officer who had been ordered to guard the passage of the Ganges in the vicinity of Ghazeepore with about nine hundred men; the wily chief of Jugdispore had got in the rear of the detachment by a flank-movement, and had crossed the Ganges at an undefended spot. Then followed Captain Le Grand’s disastrous expedition to Jugdispore on the 23d; the crossing of the Ganges on the 25th by Douglas, with his column; and the advance towards Arrah and Jugdispore to retrieve the disaster. To what results these operations led in the month of May, we have now to see.

Brigadier Douglas arrived at Arrah with a part of his force on the 1st of May, the rest having arrived two days earlier; but Douglas not being in sufficient force to effectually encompass the enemy, and the importance of thoroughly routing Koer Singh being evident, Sir Edward Lugard, leaving a few troops to guard Azimghur, set out for the Ganges with his main column, crossed over into the Shahabad district on the 3d and following days, and prepared for operations in the direction of Arrah and Jugdispore. The rebels, estimated at seven or eight thousand, were supposed to be intrenching themselves, and getting in supplies. On the 8th, Sir Edward arrived in the vicinity of Jugdispore, and came in sight of some of the rebels. Two companies of the 84th foot, with detachments of Madras Rifles, and Sikh horse, aided by two horse-artillery guns, were sent back to Arrah, to protect that place while operations were being directed against Jugdispore. The commissioner of Patna at the same time sent the steamer Patna up the Ganges, to watch the ghâts or ferries. On the 9th, Sir Edward marched his force from Beheea to an open plain a little to the west of Jugdispore. Here he intended to encamp for a while, to allow Colonel Corfield to come up with some additional troops from Sasseram. Circumstances occurred, however, to change his plan. In the afternoon of this day a large body of rebels formed outside the jungle, and moved in the direction of Arrah; but these were quickly followed by cavalry and horse-artillery, and driven back into the jungle. Another body, much more numerous, began to fire into Sir Edward’s camp before he could get his baggage well up and tents fixed. This determined him to attack them at once. Dividing his force into three columns, he planned an assault on Jugdispore on three points at once. The place was carried after a little skirmishing, the rebels making only a slight resistance; they retired to Lutwarpore, in the jungle district, taking with them two guns which they had captured from the British in the preceding month. The loss on both sides was trifling. Leaving a strong party to retain Jugdispore, Lugard returned to his camp in the evening. According to the rumours prevalent, Koer Singh, who had so long been a source of annoyance to the British, had died of his wounds; and the rebels, under his brother Ummer Singh, were ill supplied and in much confusion. A nephew of Koer Singh, named Ritbhunghur Singh, gave himself up to the British a short time afterwards – hopeful of insuring forgiveness by being able to shew that, in earlier months, he had befriended certain Europeans in a time of great peril. On the 10th, after ordering all the fortifications at Jugdispore, and all the buildings which had belonged to Koer Singh, to be destroyed, Lugard prepared to follow the rebels into the jungle. He arranged that Colonel Corfield, with the Sasseram force, should approach Lutwarpore in one direction, while he himself intended to advance upon it from Jugdispore. On the 11th and 12th much fighting took place. Sir Edward took the rebels by surprise; they expected to be attacked from Arrah or Beheea, but he marched westward through a belt of jungle to Hettumpore, and attacked them on a side which they believed to be quite safe. Lugard and Corfield were everywhere successful. It was, however, a harassing kind of warfare, bringing more fatigue than glory; the rebels, though chastised everywhere, avoided a regular engagement, and retreated into the jungle after every partial skirmish. At Arrah, Jugdispore, Lutwarpore, Hettumpore, Beheea, Peroo, and Chitowra, Lugard defeated and cut them up at various times in the course of the month; yet he could not prevent them from recombining, and collecting around them a rabble of budmashes and jail-felons. Sir Edward hoped, at any rate, to be able so to employ a strong detachment of cavalry as to prevent the rebels from crossing the river Sone, and carrying anarchy into other districts. They nevertheless continued to harass the neighbourhood by freebooting expeditions, if not by formidable military projects. After Lugard’s defeat of the main force, some of the insurgents broke up into bands of a few hundreds each, and were joined by budmashes from the towns and revolted villages. One party attacked an indigo factory near Dumoran, and burned it to the ground; another effected a murderous outbreak at the village of Rajpore, near Buxar; another threatened the railway-bridge works at Karminassa. These mischievous proceedings naturally threw the whole district into agitation. The threat against the railway-works was fully carried out about the end of the month; for the devastators destroyed the engineers’ bungalows and the workmen’s sheds, set fire to all the wood and coal collected for brick-burning, destroyed everything they could easily lay their hands on, and effectually stopped the works for a time. Nothing could be done to quell these disturbances, until a British force appeared.

Practically, therefore, the ‘Azimghur field-force,’ under Sir Edward Lugard, succeeded in breaking down the military organisation of the rebels in that part of India, without being able to prevent the formation of roaming bands bent on slaughter and devastation. And even the limited amount of advantage gained was purchased at a high price; for the tremendous heat of the sun struck down the poor soldiers with fatal certainty; numbers of them were carried from Jugdispore to Arrah, towards the close of the month – prostrated by sickness, wounds, fatigue from jungle fighting, and sun-stroke.

Somewhat further to the north, in the Goruckpore district, another group of rebels continued to harass the country, disturbing the operations of peaceful planters and traders. About the end of May, the rebel leader Mahomed Hussein, with four thousand men, suddenly made an attack upon the Rajah of Bansee, one of those who had remained faithful to the British government. The rajah was obliged to flee to a stronghold in a neighbouring jungle; and then his palace, with the town of Bansee, were plundered by the rebels. Mr Wingfield, the commissioner of Goruckpore, immediately started forth with two hundred and fifty Europeans and some guns to the relief of the rajah, whom he found besieged in his stronghold. The enemy fled precipitately on hearing of Wingfield’s approach, notwithstanding the immense disparity of force. The energetic commissioner then proceeded with the rajah to attack some rebel villages; while a simultaneous advance was made on Amood by Colonel Rowcroft. The object of these demonstrations was to keep the rebels in check until the rains set in, and the waters of the Gogra rose. Towards the end of the month, four Europeans came into Goruckpore from a neighbouring station, where they had been suddenly attacked by a body of rabble under one Baboo Surdoun Singh, and other leaders. This was one among many evidences of a still disturbed condition of the Goruckpore district. The district was in a slight degree protected by the passage of a body of troops who, though retiring rather than fighting, exerted some kind of influence on the evildoer of the country. We speak of the Goorkhas of Jung Bahadoor’s Nepaulese contingent. These troops retreated slowly from Oude towards their own country, neither receiving nor giving satisfaction from their late share in the warlike operations. After a sojourn of some time at Goruckpore, they resumed their march on the 17th of May, proceeding by brigades, and consuming much time in arranging and dragging their enormous supply of vehicles. They crossed the river Gunduck at Bagaha, with much difficulty. A distance of about thirty miles then brought them to Bettiah, and fourteen more to Segowlie – very near the frontier of the British dominions. It was early in the following month when the Goorkhas finally reached their native country, Nepaul – their leader Jung Bahadoor being, though still faithful as an ally, somewhat dissatisfied by his failure in obtaining notable advantage from the governor-general in return for services rendered. Viscount Canning had, many months earlier, received fierce newspaper abuse for not having availed himself more promptly of aid offered by Jung Bahadoor; but there now appeared much probability that caution had been all along necessary in dealing with this ambitious chieftain.

Directing attention next to the region of the Jumna and the Upper Ganges, we have to notice the continuance of insubordination around the Allahabad region, almost in the very presence of the governor-general himself, who still remained, with his staff, in that station. One of the most vexing symptoms of mischief at this place was the occurrence of incendiarism – the burning of buildings by miscreants who could not be discovered. On the 24th of May a new range of barracks was found to be on fire, and six bungalows were completely destroyed. The prevalence of a fierce wind, and the scarcity of water, frustrated for some time all attempts to extinguish the flames. One poor invalid soldier was burned to death, and many others injured. Beyond the limits of the city itself, it was a state of things very unexpected by the supreme authorities, that the road from Allahabad through Futtehpoor to Cawnpore – a road more traversed than any other by British troops throughout twelve months of anarchy – should in the middle of May be scarcely passable without a strong escort. Yet such was the case. The opposition to the British raj, though it had assumed a guerrilla character, was very harassing to deal with. The British were strong in a few places; but the rebels were in numerous small bodies, scattered all over the surrounding country; and these bodies occasioned temporary panics at spots where there was no force to meet them. The thorough knowledge of the country, possessed by some of the leaders, enabled them to baffle the pursuers; and thus it arose that these petty bands occasioned alarms disproportionate to the number of men comprising them. Sometimes they would occupy the great trunk-road, between Allahabad and Cawnpore, and close up all means of transit unless attacked and driven away by force. On the other hand, this district exhibited a remarkable union of the new with the old, the European with the oriental, the practical with the primitive – arising out of the opening of a railway through a part of the route. After reading, as we so often have in this volume, of toilsome marches by sunburnt and exhausted troops over rough roads and through jungle-thickets, it is with a peculiar feeling of interest that we find an announcement to the effect, that ‘on the 26th of May a special train left Allahabad with a party of Sikhs to reinforce Futtehpoor, which was said to be threatened by a large force of the enemy.’ Had this railway been opened when or soon after the Revolt began, there is at least a fair probability that the Cawnpore massacre might have been prevented – provided always that the railway itself, with its locomotives and carriages, were not in rebels’ hands.