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30 Apr 59 Julius Rewanie Gunge Mother ______________________________________________________________________________________________

[As published in The Morning Advertiser*, Tuesday, July 26^th, 1859]

The Indian Rebellion

We have been favoured with the following private letter from an officer now serving with one of the divisions engaged in suppressing the remains of the rebellion in Upper India. The letter is addressed to his mother.

Camp, Rewanie Gunge, April 30 1859

My last letter was written before we started with Sir H. Grant (if I remember right) from a place called Rungaon. I fancy, from what we can gather from English papers etc that you people in England imagine this country all settled down, and that troops are no longer requisite, it having been reported by Lord Canning etc. that the police (which, by the way is only a new name for the sepoys) are to do everything that is required.

I told you some months ago that Fyzabad had been told off for our quarters. The authorities published a long list of Regiments and places in order to mislead people into the belief that everything was finished, so that the two great powers in the country (civil and military) might go up into the hills and enjoy themselves without being thought to shirk their work. Grumbling, however, does no good, so I will go on, and tell you of my doings since.

We came two marches with General Grant, and were to have caught the rebels the second day, but did not, as they had already been caught by a party under Major Vaughan of the 20^th, and had been driven into the jungle the day before.

Sir H. Grant did not wish any enemy to be left in his rear, so he determined to send out a force to clear the jungle and drive them all down on towards Gonda. Four companies of ours, under Captain Puget (commanding 34^th) Lieuts. Dunbar and Laurie, Ensigns Jordan and Rose (attached) , three companies of 3^rd Sikhs, two guns (under an officer), and a troop of Hodson’s Horse, the whole force commanded by Captain Renny, of 3^rd Sikhs, a first rate officer, one who thoroughly knows the country, having been 24 years out, and never in England during his service, and as pleasant a man as a commanding officer as ever I knew.

I will not tell you all the places we have been to, as I suspect they would not interest you much, but I must tell you of one little affair we had. Information was very hard to be got at, having been in very dense jungle for most of the time since we started. Villages are very few and far between; roads we generally have to cut for ourselves. We knew that we had for some time been in the vicinity of the remains of the famous Nusserabad brigade, the best disciplined and best fighting of any of the rebel bands who have flourished since the mutinies.

At length we got pretty good information regarding their whereabouts, and Captain Renny decided upon trying to cut them off, for which purpose we marched to Rewanie, on a small river, the Bishwa. We knew they were somewhere near us, but could not tell exactly. We pitched camp and had our breakfasts, when in came two or three villagers, calling out for “Mercy, mercy! the rebels have looted my house” or village or clothes as the case might be. When we got two or three who could agree as to place and distance, Captain Renny ordered the men out, leaving a company of 34^th and one of 3^rd Sikhs to guard the guns and camp. It happened that my company, No. 7, was on inlying picket, so they had to remain. I got leave to go, and leave No. 7 under the Artillery officer. So off I went, having charge of the leading company (No. 6) as the officer belonging to it was only an ensign. We returned over the river, and got into the jungle. The cavalry were left to guard the bridge, and with them officers left their horses. We proceeded along a track in the jungle parallel with and about 300 or 400 yards from the banks of the river. We kept perfect silence, the guides running in front to show the way, and every now and then turning round and making signals that all was right.

We went on in this way, marching in column of sections, not a sound heard but the crackling of the dead leaves under our feet as we marched along, for about a mile and a half, when all of a sudden, through the jungle, we caught sight of the brutes about 200 yards direct to our front. They had evidently heard our footsteps, and were gathering together, when "Front, Form Companies! Double!" was shouted by Puget; and in we went. They fired, turned and scattered. Our men extended out, running and firing as hard as they could. I told you my company was the leading one; the others gradually came up on our left, and the Sikhs on the left of the 34^th. On we went as fast as we could, but unfortunately the rebels can go faster. The enemy were evidently surprised. We found their bundles of clothes, their shoes, arms and ammunition strewed upon the ground. Some of them mounted their ponies and rode off as hard as possible. There was one elephant with five or six people, which made off at a great pace, crashing through the jungle. There were two men with white horses, who seemed to be swells. One of them tried very hard to mount. His horse, however, was restive – probably wounded – and broke loose and ran away. I saw him about 150 yards off stop and get settled behind a tree. I thought him wounded, and told the men to shoot him, as a wounded n gets desperate, and I thought he might do some damage. Several of them tried, but, after running so far, could not take steady shots. We got up within twenty yards of the tree. I knew he was there, and told the men to fix bayonets and be ready to rush on him; when, bang, bang, and he fired a shot, first from his left, and then from his right of the tree. At this, a man a few yards to my right clubbed his rifle and rushed at him; he got up to within five yards of the man before he was perceived, when the n took a steady aim and shot at him; the man’s rifle was over his head, and I saw it come down with much less force than I had anticipated, but the Englishman rushed in on the other and closed. I saw no time was to be lost, and I am sorry to say, in my anxiety to save the soldier, wounded him in the hand, which was buried in the other’s clothes. I fancied I had, and held my hand as I saw him wince. I immediately detected a safe spot, and gave the rebel the full benefit of Sir Peter’s sword*. I saw him relax his hold, and then finished him through the heart.

It was lucky for the soldier that I got up, as he had been shot through the left arm and elbow. The n had a Colt’s revolver, four barrels were discharged, and two still loaded and capped; he also had a tulwar (or sword). We followed the enemy about five miles, started them about 1.30 or 2.00 pm and you can imagine we were pretty well done up. The men could not keep up, having marched twelve miles in the morning, and we were all regularly blown when the halt and assembly sounded. You in England do not know what thirst is. I felt as if an oven was on my tongue. I do not think I have enjoyed anything in my life more than the first draught of water after the run on 27^th April. Twenty-nine dead bodies were counted lying on the ground; since then spies say that the rebels themselves admit that their loss in killed and wounded was 300; that is of course exaggerated. I should think though, that 90 was about the mark, from the number of wounded the villagers give that they have seen carried through the villages. The ns always, if possible, carry off their dead. They had not the least idea that there was a force anywhere near them, and their look-out man was up in a tree, and fortunately for us had gone to sleep. It has been a great blow to the Nusserabad brigade and they have left this part of the country “double quick.” They did not think English could or would penetrate the jungles after them and now their only hope of safety has left them. I cannot help thinking and wondering, if that is the best fighting lot of ns, what the worst would be like, as I never saw men endeavour to get out of the way quicker. They had 1,200 on the ground, 1,000 infantry and 200 cavalry; the latter, as usual, were the first off. Against these we had – 220 bayonets,and Sikhs 120; total 340 men. We had two men wounded. My friend, who has a nasty wound in his left arm, besides the one I gave him, and a young fellow shot in the ancle, both of the company I was with are doing well, I am happy to say. The look-out man up in the tree, was caught coming down, as we returned, and was shot on the spot. One fellow was brought in and hung. Our advanced guard came in sight of some of these fellows, and a lot of them with arms and legs tied up (evidently wounded) next morning, just disappearing into a thick jungle; as there was not much prospect of us catching them we proceeded on our march. Yesterday morning a trap was prepared for them. The jungle they were supposed to be in was a narrow strip, with a river on one side and open space on the other. The Sikhs were to drive them down on us. We were all ready for them, guns, and all in a narrow open space separating the jungle; but our efforts were in vain, they having passed in the night. At present they are about ten miles from us, going exactly in the direction we were to drive them. We have been out now nine days – we brought provisions for fourteen. Only once have any letters or papers reached us, so entirely are we cut off from communication with the rest of the world. The Nana and the Begum* are supposed to be coming down this way, so, perhaps, we may have a little more scrimmaging. I like this sort of life much; our force is a small one; big enough for anything the enemy can bring against us; can go anywhere; our officer in command is first rate; generally after dinner he tells us his plans, the why and wherefore, and is always ready to listen to any proposed amendment, even from the most junior sub. We halt every day, where practicable, in a tope of mango trees, of which there are always some in the small open spaces of the jungle. It is very hot, but as we keep well under shade we do not feel it so much. We heard – when that mail I mentioned before came in – that Percy, our new Paymaster was dead. I hope, I am sure, it is not the case. He only joined us the other day from England and was not to have commenced his work until the 1^st of next month.

I cannot help mentioning that in the papers which reached us the other day, there were some speeches by one Gilpin* and a General Thompson* in the House of Commons. Surely it is a pity such people do not come and catch sepoys, and punish mutineers themselves. English people cannot judge of the ways in which Asiatics should be treated unless they have seen them. I do not profess to know much about the matter, but from all I can learn, if more people had acted like the much-abused Mr Cooper, * the mutiny would have been checked considerably. As for General Thompson, the sooner he leaves off his “red coat and epaulettes” the sooner the service will be benefited. I wish we had him here. I should like to see how the great general would stand the jungles, and I believe a sepoy is to be hung – a fine opportunity for him – a great pity he and Gilpin cannot be here. To read such trash from people living comfortably at home, and knowing nothing of the matter, makes one perfectly savage.

* The Morning Advertiser - The Morning Advertiser started life in 1794 published as 'The Publican's Morning Advertiser' by the London Society of Licensed Victuallers. By the middle of the nineteenth century, its circulation was second only to that of The Times, and it is now Britain's oldest surviving newspaper.

* Sir Peter’s sword – see 55.02.17 Sir Peter to Julius

* Nana and the Begum - Nana Saheb (1824-1859), born as Dhondu Pant, was an Indian Peshwa of the Maratha empire, aristocrat and fighter, who led the rebellion in Cawnpore. As the exiled Peshwa, Baji Rao’s adopted son, Nana Saheb believed that he was entitled to a pension from the East India Company but, in line with Lord Dalhousie’s Doctrine of Lapse (under which the territories of Princes who were manifestly incompetent or died without natural heir were taken over by the EIC) he found himself effectively disinherited when Baji Rao died in 1851. He was understandably resentful and, with the Sepoy mutiny, saw an opportunity for revenge. He forced the British garrison in Cawnpore to surrender, then executed the survivors, gaining control of Cawnpore for a few days. He later disappeared, after his forces were defeated by a British force that recaptured Cawnpore. He took refuge in the hills of Nepal in 1859, where he is thought to have died. The Begum was his queen.

* Gilpin - Charles Gilpin MP (1815-1874) was a Quaker, orator, politician, publisher and railway director. He was MP for Northampton from 1857 until his death. On 14 March 1859 he made a statement in the House, drawing attention to Cooper’s book (see below) and berating Cooper – a civilian – for his part in the execution without trial of about 280 members of 26^th Native Infantry at Ujnalla on 1^st August 1857, an act he regarded as an atrocity.

* General Thompson – Thomas Perronet Thompson MP (1783-1869), army officer and politician was MP for Bradford 1842-1852 and 1857-1859. He spoke in the House on 14^th March 1859 in support of Charles Gilpin MP.

* Mr Cooper – Frederick Cooper, an EIC employee who was Deputy Commissioner of Umritzur. He published 'The Crisis in the Punjab, from 10th May until the fall of Delhi', a vivid account of the first four months of the Mutiny, detailing the fate of many mutinous regiments including the annihilation of the disarmed 26th Bengal NI by the author's authority. Cooper's action was controversial – even by prevailing standards – and his account was an attempt to explain and justify his actions.