Democratic Sentinel, Volume 5, Number 44, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 9 December 1881 — THE MUFTI. [ARTICLE]

THE MUFTI.

An Episode of the Indian Mutiny. During the cold weather in 1856 we had been unusually gay at our pleasant little station of Ramiamjolliraobad in the heart of Oude. In November no less than three brides had arrived from homo and been feted in turn ; while early in December the Thirteenth Light Cavalry and the One Hundred and Tenth Native Infantry had been relieved by Hampden’s Horse and the Ninetythird Light Infantry, both “oraok” regiments, with good bands and capital messes ; and just before Christmas the Com-mnnder-in-Cliief had passed through on a tcur of inspection, and remained for four days. Balls, big dinners and picnics had been the order of the day, and we had even succeeded in getting up some very fine races. It .. as about this time that my wife’s cousin, Capt. Geoffrey St. Hill, of the Twenty-fifth Lancers, came to spend his three months’ leave with us, and before he had been a fortnight in the station managed to get himself and us into hot water. St. Hill was a strikingly handsome man with very regular features and “poetic” eyes; he was moreover encircled with a halo of glory from having been one of the “Six Hundred.” The ladies, as might naturally have been expected, made much of him, and he dashed off at once into vehement flirtation with three of the five spinsters at our little station, one of the remaining two being too plain and the other too wise. Had he confined himself to this amusement it would not have mattered so much ; but, unfortunately, lie would be an “ Admirable Crichton,” and persisted in laying down the law to every one on every possible subject, „ without the slightest respect for age, rank or reputation. Free-thinking was one of his hobbies, “ Sans Foi ” being liis nickname in the regiment, and ho was particularly fond of airing liis infidelity, especially before the ultra-evangelicals, for whom he had the most profound contempt. At the first big dinner to which we were invited he placidly set the Commissioner to rights on the subject of “ Salookdarre rights ” and permanent settlement, and gave the Brigadier a lecture on active drill and discipline. One of the chargos against him was that he read Italian with Miss Bell; this cause of offense had been removed, the reading havipg entirely ceased, and the young lady appearing rather to uvo d him than otherwise ; but it was observed that she never allowed his character or opinions to be attacked behind his back without defending him most gallantly. As she was the prettiest and cleverest “spin” in the station, and a general favorite to boot, few cared to contradict her ; but whether her alliance did St. Hill much good is open to doubt; one man indeed it brought to his aid—young Stubbs, the “boots” of the Ninety-third regiment, a no-account lad who had been desperately m love with Miss 801 l from the first day lie saw her, and who now chivalrously ranged himself on the side of his rival, by whom lie was constantly snubbed for liis pains. Under these circumstances it was evidently high tinio for Sh Hill to beat a retreat, but, as ill-luck would have it, this was out of the question, a bad fall having put him on the sick list, and rendered it quite impossible for him to rejoiu at the expiration of his leave, while much more serious matter than his doings and misdoings soon occupied nil our thoughts. As the hot weather drew near an uneasy feeling showed itself in the native army, and before long the mutiny at Barraekpore opened our eyes to the danger. The guilty regiment met with instant punishment; the disaffected appeared to be cowed, and we fondly hoped that the crisis was over. This interval of quiet was, however, only the calm before the terrific storm, which was so book to burst in all its fury on our devoted heads. All through the month of April this deceitful calm lasted; most of us forgot our fears, and prepared to make ourselves comfortable for the hot weather. Suddenly the bazars were full of a great mutiny and massacre of Mee rut, but, having received no authentic news of any disturbance there, we treat'ed the report as mere “gup,” and the two or three old officers who looked grave and shook their heads over it "were laughod at as alarmists. Only a day or two later our laughter came to a sudden end. A large party of us were having “chota huzri,” and smokingm the “coffee shop” after parade, when a telegram was brought to our Colonel,with a hurried note requesting his immediate attendance at the General's' bungalow. The ill-omened slip of paper passed quickly around: “Cavalry mutinied at Meerut on Monday. Several officers killed.” The Colonel, with his Adjutant, rode off at once, while the rest of us, crowding round the table, read and re-read the telegram, trying to find in it some grain of comfort. “It is only the Third Cavalry, ” said one; ‘ * they were always known to be shaky. All the other Sspoy regiments appear to have remained stanch.” We were still discussing the news and trying to persuade ourselves and each other that it was not really half so bad as it seemed at first sight, when the Commissioner, galloping up, asked for the Colonel, and, hearing that he had gone to the General, threw me another telegram and rode off without drawing rein. This second message ran as follows : “Cavalry from Meerut reached Delhi Tuesday—the whole force there joined them; general massacre of English ; magazine blown up. ” For the next few days we were all in a state of the deepest despondency, but after that came a reaction. We heard that a large European force, under the Commauder-in-Chief, was marching on Delhi, and that several regiments had been telegraphed for from the Persian gulf and Madras. At several places mutinies had taken place, but in many others the spirit of the native troops appeared to be excellent, notably at Allahabad, where the Sixth regiment Native Infantry had voluuteeired to march against “those wicked men who had been false to the great company whoso salt they had eaten;” and other regiments had followed their example. M. an time our own men were loud in their professions of loyalty, and many of us believed they were peally faithful,

Altogether things were looking brighter, when suddenly telegrams, letters and newspapers ceased to arrive, and we found that we were cut off from all communication with the outer world. The last paper which reached ns gave a ghastly account of the tragedy at Allahabad, where the Sixth regiment, after having paraded in the afternoon to receive the thanks of the Governor Genend for their loyalty, cut the throats of all their officers at mess in the evening. To add to our troubles, there were great differences of opinion among our leaders. The Brigadier, a worn-out old man who should have been dozing away the evening of his life at Bath or Cheltenham, was quite unequal to the emergency and changed his plans from day to clay. An intrenchment round the European barracks was begun, and within a week the work was stopped, owing to the remonstrances of the native officers, who declared that their feelings were hurt by such a want of confidence in them and their men. Shortly afterward, to bur great relief, the Brigadier broke down altogether, took to his bed, and handed over the command to our Colonel, one of the best and bravest officers in the army, whose brevet rank, gained by distinguished service in the field, placed him over the older officers who commanded the other regiments. He at once set to work on the intrenohments, which were completed ia a fortnight, and at the time, by his personal influence over the Sepoys, oqecked to some extent the spirit of disaffection which had shown itself in the shape of fires. These had been of nearly nightly occurrence, and were undoubtedly the work of incendiaries. They, however, ceased for a time, and the midnight meetings of men of all regiments, of which we had received secret but sure information, were also discontinued. One Monday afternoon a Mussulman fanatic, who had come from Delhi to incite the men to mutiny, was seized by some troopers and brought up to our Colonel. A court-martial was held at once, and he was hanged the same evening in the presence of the whole force, without the slightest attempt being made to rescue lum or even a murmur being heard in the ranks, even when the wretched man oried out that he was dying for the faith and called on all true believers to save him from the infidels.

All was quiet during the night, but next morning, when Hampden’s Horse was drawn up for a drill, a trooper suddenly shouted out: “ The murder of our saint must be avenged,” and fired hi* carbine at the Colonel. In another minute the officers were riding for their lives, followed by a score of Sowars, while the rest of the regiment galloped furiously through the infantry and artillery lines, calling on the men to joiD them. They, however, met svith nc answer, and, being fired on by a few faithful Sepoys, who, at the first alarm, had gathered round their officers, they rode off iu great disorder, after having set fire to their own lines and their officers’ bungalows, and out down two or three Europeans whom they happened to come across. Much relieved by their sudden departure and the apparent staunchness of the mass of the Sepoys, we flattered ourselves that wo had tided over the worst of the danger, and that order would soon be restored; but within fortyeight hours we were uudeceived. Of the next great outbreak I can tell bu< little, for exposure to the sun had brought on fever and partial delirium, I have but a confused recollection of a sudden alarm ; a cry that the Sowars had come back and were murdering every one ; a rush from my blazing house through a surging crowd of natives, and then finding myself safe inside the intrenchment. A week passed before I was able to take part in the defense, and by that time there was need of every man who could handle a rifle, for the casualties had already been many. For three loug weeks we held out, suffering terribly from heat and scarcity of water, as well as from insufficient food, having from the very first been on half, and latterly on quarter rations. Still we did Hot despair, for a faithful Sepoy, who, at the risk of his own life, had passed through the enemy’s lines, brought a note in Greek characters from Col. Adair, of tlie Twentyfifth Lanoers, informing us that he hoped to l>e able to relieve us on the following Sunday. On that day the mutineers left us in peace, the greater part of them having moved off to oppose the relieving force. From earliest dawn until late at night we watched in vain for any sight or sound that might tell us how the fight was going. At last we heard a distant gun, then heavy firing, which at first sounded nearer and nearer, then remained stationary for a time, then gradually grew fainter and fainter, until at last it died away in the distance, and not a sound broke the silence of the night. Then our hoarts sank within us, for we knew that all hope of succor was at an end, and that we were left to our fate. The rising sun showed us the camp of our enemies swarming with armed men, villagers as well as Sepoys, who shouted out that they had conquered the Feringhees, and held up the uniforms and accoutrements of English soldieis in token of their victory. We fully expected that they would now make a final attack in force, but they had probably formed a pretty good idea of the state to which we had been reduced, and, like wise men, determined to starve us out.

On Tuesday afternoon a council of war was held at which it was decided that we should sally out as soon as the moon had set; try to cut our way through tire enemy, and then make for Col. Adair’s camp, which, we had reason to believe, was somewhere in the direction of Devipur, about twenty miles off. This was indeed a very forlorn hope ; but our last morsel having been eaten, and with only a few cartridges remaining in our pouches, no other course was open to us. We were less hampered with tick ud wounded thea might have beon expected, for been very busy among "the women and children, while of our fighting men scarcely one-third of those who had entered the intrenchments answered to their names at our last roll-call. This great mortality was owing, partly to our having been entirely without medical aid of any sort, all three of our surgeons having been killed, and the hospital shed, with all its contents, burnt by a shell which burst right in it on the third day of the siege. During this, our last day, the heat had been more than usually intense, and the atmosphere perfectly suffocating; but toward evening a strong wind sprang up from the south, heavy clouds gathered over the whole sky, and soon after dark a crashing peal of thunder shook the whole earth beneath us. It was followed by a perfect torrent of rain ; one of those sudden storms, not uncommon in the hot weather, had come on, and was soon raging in its full fury. Nothing could have suited us better, and on sallying out we found, as we had expected, that the enemy had taken shelter in their huts, and that not a single sentry was on the alert. At first we succeeded even beyond our hopes, cutting our way without much difficulty through the scattered groups of mutineers who hurried together to oppose us; but before we were well clear of their camp we lost our way in the pitchy darkness, got broken up into small parties, and were never able to reassemble. After stumbling along for what seemed to be several hours we heard the tramp of horses on all sides, and in a few minutes found ourselves surrounded by a large body of Hamp den’s Horse. The hopeless struggle which followed was short but bloody; w© were quickly overpowered, most of

our party were killed on the spot, while about a dozen, including my wife, St. Hill, the two clergymen and young Stubbs, were taken prisoners, mounted behind some of our captors, and carried to a ruined temple, near which their spiritual chief had taken up his quarters. He was a venerable Mufti, with a long, white beard and stern, handsome face, one glance at which assured me that we need look for little mercy at his hands. In this I was not mistaken ; our doom was spoken in a few words—“ There is no God but one God, and Mohammed is the prophet ol God. Confess the faith and live; deny it and die like dogs. Make yonr choioe. and answer before this torch burns out.” So saying he turned to our guards and ordered them to loosen our ropes and allow us to speak to each other. Tben we gathered closer together, but no word was spoken ; we felt that death was very near, and each of us, in his own way, prepared to meet it. I tried to pray, out tried in vain. As in a. dream I saw the fieroe faces of the Sowars by the light of the torches which blazed and flickered in the wind. I heard the thunder growling away in the distance, the roar of the swollen river rushing by; the stern words of the Mufti kept repeating themselves over and over again in my head; but all seemed strange and far away like idle sights and sounds which, for me, hod no meaning. Suddenly the Mufti shook his torch, sending the sparks flying far into the darkness around, and I noticed it was nearly burnt out. Then I seemed to awake with a sudden sharp pain ; the bitterness of death was upon me, as I felt my wife cling to my arm, saw her loving, despairing eyes looking into mine, and felt that I could do nothing to save her. “My own, my own !” I cried; “ only one short year together, and now to be separated forever ! Why did I ever bring you to this cursed country ? Why were you given to me if Ve were to be parted so soon ?” “Thera can be no more separation for those whose love is true,” said the chaplain. “What happier lot could God have given you ? Love and joy on earth, find now an'etermty of happiness together in heaven. One short moment of pain, and then the crowns of glory that never fade; the unspeakable joys that eye hath not seen nor ear heard. ” “ All verv well for you who are sure of heaven, ,r interrupted St. Hill; “but hew about me ? Why should I not save my life while I can ? If your Bible be true there is an eternity of misery in store for me; if it be false, why should I die for a lie ? Christian er Mussulman, what does it matter t” “ The Captain’s a Bcholard,” gasped Private Smith, who was badly wounded, “ and knows best, no doubt; but I won’t turn nigger to please that old heathen. No, I’ll die a good Christian, cussed if I won’t. ”

“Do not talk so wildly, Capt. St. Hill,” expostulated the chaplain. “Our God is merciful and loving, and judges not as man judges. Do what is right, and trust your soul to Him who died for you.” “ Repent, repent; there is yet time,” cried the missionary. “ Between the stirrup ond the ground, He mercy sought and mercy found. “ Maybe I shall. Anyhow duty must be done, of course, and it wouldn’t do for ono of the old Twenty-fifth to turn Mussulman through funk. Still it’s very bard lines that I of all men should have to play a martyr’s part. How the fellows will laugh at the mess when tliey are told that ‘ Sans Foi ’ died for the faith I ” ‘ ‘ The time is up. Now, unbelievers, will you repeat the * kulma ’ and live, or will you die like dogs as you are? ‘ There is but one God, and Mohammed is his prophet I ’” The dead silence that followed was broken by the chaplain’s calm, steady voice, “ In the hour of death, good Lord, deliver us.” Suddenly up Hill sprang to his feet with a wild laugh. “ There is but one devil,” cried he in Hindoostani, “ and Mohammed is his Vizier I Will that do, you son of a pig ? ” “Blasphemy, blasphemy!” shouted the Mufti; “ let him die the death.” In another instant n volley of musketry blazed out, and St. Hill fell riddled with bullets; with him fell poor young Stubbs, who had thrown himself between St. Hill and his murderers. Mad with rage and thirsting for more blood, the Sowars were rushing on us, when the stern voice of the Mufti stopped them : “They are dogs and sons of dogs, but tlioir blood shall be on their own heads; not one more of them shall die until he has had. another chanoe of joining the true believers. Leave them alone until the ‘ muezzin ’ calls to morning prayer, then if they will not repent they shall Burely die.” Slowly and sullenly the Mufti’s followers drew back, after tying us hand and foot to trees to prevent any attempt at escape, more we were left alone to ©ur own thoughts. Slowly the hours passed by and the night was far spent when a faint sound roused me from the stupor iu which I had fallen. I listened intently, .and made out that it was firing in the, distance which gradually grew nearer, though it was almost drowned in the roar of the swollen torrent rushing past our rear, and was evidently unheard by the Sepoys, who were gathered round their fires, smoking, eating and sleeping in perfect security, their arms lying about, in every direction. Gradually the darkness cleared away, and tlie first streak of light appeared on the horizon. Then, the cry to prayer ringing through the encampment, all the followers of the Prophet, kneeling down on their prayer carpets, performed their morning devotions with great fervor, and rose up to begin the day with a fresh butchery, “ Let their accursed priests be first brought up,” was the order by the Mufti, in obedience to which Chasuble and Calvin Longwynd were untied and dragged before him. “ You have had full time for repentance—now, once for all, will you believe or will you die ? ” Before either of them could answer him a wounded Sowar dashed into the midst of the party, and, without pulling up his steaming horse, shouted out : “ Ride for your lives—the Sahib log are closed behind I ” At the sound of that dreaded name a panic seized all the Sowars, who rushed pell-mell to their horses, while the infantrymen caught up their arms and crowded together, doubtful whether to fight or fly. Tlie Mufti alone rer mained firm and collected. Above the tumult his voice rang out clear and high: “Stand firm, believers—victory or paradise ! ” Bnt his words fell on heedless ears, for even as they were uttered a dozen or more Sowars dashed through in headlong flight, riding down every one who stood in their way, and throwing the whole force into hopeless confusion. A wild stampede ensued as the sound of calvary at full gallop drew nearer and a crowd of Sowars rode past, spurring for dear life. Only the Mufti and three grizzled old troopers remained calm and unmoved, even when the ringing cheer of our lancers foretold their doom. “ The gates of paradise are opening wide; the Prophet himself beckons to us. Forward ! forward ! die like true Ghazis ! ” cried the Mufti. With desperate courage the lunatics charged furiously on the advancing Bquadron, cut down the Major and threw themselves on the line of lancers, while the Mufti sprang forward, stabbed Chasuble to the heart, and was in the act of striking at the missionary when a lance driven home by a strong arm pierced him through and through ; so the Christian martyr and the Mussulman fell side by side, and each went to his own place. In a few paoments we were unbound and safe. Gur first thought was of our

fallen friends; Chasuble and St Hill were past all help, but Stubbs still breathed, and a few drops of brandy from a trooper’s flask gave him momentary strength. As we raised his head he tried to speak, and, leaning over him, I heard a whisper, “Is he Mire? I did my best, tell her.” It was his last effort, and in a moment he was with the rival for whom he had died, His last message was never delivered, for Miss Bell had been massacred, together with the whole of the garrison except our small party. A native servant who escaped and came into oaxap some days afterward reported that she had been shot by her father to save her from falling into the hands of the mutineers, but whether this were true or not we never knew for certain. Our rescuers proved to be the advance guard of Adair’s column, which, having been reinforced after their repulse on Sunday, had made a foroed march by night through thunder, lightning and rain, and, taking the mutineers entirely by surprise with an uufordable river in their rear, routed them with such a slaughter as is remembered to this day in many a town and village throughout the length and breadth of Oude, where men shudder as they tell how on that stormy night ths Christians were massacred, man, woman and oliild, and how terrible a vengeance came with the morning light.— United Service Magazine.