In the City of Gold and Silver (30 page)

“What Mammoo are you talking about? The dancer's eunuch?”

Astounded, the sepoys
 
come to a halt. It takes a few seconds before one of them draws his sword and advances, threatening:

“Would you be referring to the minister of the Court and the Queen Mother?”

“As far as I know, the Queen Mother is in London to plead the king's cause, while the king himself is in Fort William, imprisoned by the Angrez. There is no other king or Queen Mother. Unless you are referring to one of the concubines His Majesty left behind in Lucknow? As for your minister of the Court, that former slave full of his own importance, don't make me laugh!”

This is too much. Swords drawn, the sepoys rush towards him; however, about a dozen men suddenly emerge on either side of the agitator.
 
Wearing simple
lungis
,
78
they are armed with clubs and lathis. The battle commences. The long sticks work wonders against the swords, breaking a wrist here, a shoulder there, even before the sepoys can reach their assailants. Very quickly
 
they are cornered. Realising this, the bearded man signals his men to stop:

“Go home and tell Mammoo that the soldiers of Maulvi Ahmadullah Shah, Allah's messenger, send their greetings!”

And he disappears into the crowd.

The fight took place in front of hundreds of witnesses, and an echo of the scandal reaches the palace. The regent immediately convenes a meeting of the chiefs of the different armed forces in order to discuss the measures to be taken.

Nobody would dare say so openly, but no one is upset at the humiliation inflicted on Mammoo Khan, whose arrogance makes him unanimously detested. Nevertheless, a schism within the armed forces cannot be tolerated.

Rajah Jai Lal sums up the dilemma:

“The maulvi has become uncontrollable. His soldiers and a large section of the population worship him like a god. He considers himself above taking orders from anyone, and during battles, acts alone. This said, he is a good tactician and a born leader. Under the current circumstances, it would be a great pity to do without his support.”

“In any event, he cannot be ignored. He has sworn to rid India of the British, whom he regards as
kafirs.
”
79
 

“What is amazing is that the Hindus follow him too, although he preaches a rigorous Islam, in opposition to the ‘degenerate Islam of the Court.'”

“Oh, he is skilful! He has toned down his convictions and, for the time being, only advocates the common struggle against the foreign oppressors, who want to impose their customs and religion on the believers.”

“And he is equally well regarded by the middle class, as he maintains an iron discipline amongst his soldiers: they are allowed to pillage the collaborators, but are strictly forbidden to touch the people's property.”

The regent listens attentively.

“So you believe the maulvi would not only be an enemy of the British, but our enemy too? Do you think he could turn against us once the occupier has left the country?”

“Taking advantage of his reputation as a military and religious leader, he is perfectly capable of fomenting a revolution,” concedes the Rajah of Mahmudabad.

“Who said, ‘If you cannot conquer your enemy, cover him in honours in order to make a friend of him'?” murmurs Hazrat Mahal. “I think I will invite Ahmadullah Shah here and make him an offer he cannot refuse.”

Twenty pairs of questioning eyes turn towards her.

“As you all agree that he is an excellent military leader, I would like to placate him by putting him in charge of the next assault on the Residency, which we would call ‘Operation Muharram.' This would be a way of recreating the alliance indispensable to the success of our cause.”

“Which means we would be under his orders?” protests Mammoo Khan.

“To the best of my knowledge, you do not take part in the battles, so this won't affect you!” retorts the regent curtly. “It is for the officers to tell me what they think.”

“If he wins, it will be a disaster!” predicts the Rajah of Mahmudabad. “He will really become uncontrollable.”

“Let us not panic,” intervenes Rajah Jai Lal. “In order to win, Ahmadullah needs the support of our regiments. We have already lost too many men. From now on, I suggest we deploy our soldiers sparingly.”

“From now on? How long will that be?” enquires Hazrat Mahal suspiciously.

“As long as Operation Muharram lasts.”

In approval, everyone bursts out laughing.

“Are you not concerned he will take revenge?” enquires the regent anxiously.

“What more can he do? He is already trying to undermine the king's authority and your own. If he claims to take power, however, the sepoys will not follow him. They can appreciate him as a military leader, but when it comes to politics, they are wary of him. Not because they are in the majority Hindus and he is a Muslim—that does not matter here, our soldiers fight shoulder to shoulder—but because they know very well that the maulvi
 
is an extremist.”

G
radually, the revolt spreads throughout northeast India, and now a large part of central India, the heart of the Mahratta region, appears ripe for rebellion.

During this month of August 1857, the governor general in Calcutta is no longer able to communicate with his officers;
 
the telegraph lines have been sabotaged and the province of Bihar has joined the revolt, making the circulation of mail almost impossible. Thus, he is obliged to base his decisions on fragmented bits of information.

Everywhere, the Indians are riding a wave of enthusiasm. Nonetheless, the British reinforcements and units loyal to the Bombay and Madras armies continue their progress towards the centre of the country. The insurgents have to act quickly: the only way to drive out the British would be to extend the rebellion to include the west and the south. However, a number of princes are still hesitant, while some others—the most influential—have resolutely chosen the British camp.

The sovereign of Bhopal in particular,
 
whom Hazrat Mahal had tried hard to convince, refuses to join the uprising, despite her subjects' demonstrations in favour of it. Like her mother, Begum Sikander is gifted with a political sense unencumbered by ideals, and she is betting on British success.

As for
 
the
 
biggest state in the Deccan, Hyderabad, rattled by maulvis preaching rebellion in the mosques, it would have switched alliances if the old nizam
 
had not just passed away. The latter would not have hesitated to take revenge on the British for confiscating part of his state a few years earlier. Luckily for the occupying forces, his son, who succeeded him a few months before the beginning of the revolt, is under the influence of the Prime Minister, Sir Salar Jung, a dedicated Anglophile who had the rebellion's leaders arrested and handed over to the British authorities.

 

On August 14th, an army of three thousand men led by General Nicholson has reached the outskirts of Delhi, bringing necessary reinforcements to strengthen the siege while awaiting additional forces. To recapture the former capital, the governor general of India
 
has issued orders that the bulk of troops be concentrated there. Indeed, the fate of the rebellion in the Northeast Provinces, which joined the revolt after the great Mughal had assumed power, depends on Delhi—as do the fates of the Punjab and central India. For even in the provinces remaining loyal to the British, maintaining control is proving increasingly difficult. If the seat of the former power—a symbol of two centuries of glory—is lastingly re-established, the country will fight as a single man to expel the foreigners.

Over the space of a few weeks, John Nicholson, a giant of a man, both taciturn and inspired, has become a legend. Since he left Peshawar in May, the rumour of his courage and brutality has circulated across the country; it is said that his troops are allowed to carry out atrocities on the population.

The Sikh soldiers have the worst reputation: horrifying stories are told of their prisoners being impaled, of their running stakes through children, whom they then roast before their parents' eyes. Fantasy or reality, the fact remains, the British officers do not condemn any excesses of force. Since the massacre of the European women and children, the British are convinced the Indians are evil savages to be exterminated.

For a number of soldiers, revenge is a God-given right inscribed in the Bible; their fight, a battle between Good and Evil; and crushing the mutiny, a crusade. They have the full support of the English press in Calcutta and London, which has run amok since the Kanpur massacres.

 

“For every church destroyed, we should destroy fifty mosques. For every Christian killed, we should massacre a thousand rebels,” declares
The Times
.

 

Even Charles Dickens goes as far as to write:

 

“I would like to be commander-in-chief in India. I would strike terror into this Oriental race and would proclaim that, on God's orders, I would do everything in my power to wipe their breed—guilty of so many atrocities—off the surface of the earth.”

 

As for the Governor General Lord Canning, he has finally understood the danger of blind repression. It leaves an often-undecided population with no other choice but to join the rebels. He attempts to restore the rule of law, making him the brunt of insults from the British community, who scornfully nickname him “Clemency Canning,” but he is unable to put a stop to the terror inflicted by an army thirsty for revenge.

 

In Lucknow, news of the siege of Delhi has caused little concern. The capital is unassailable: surrounded by moats six metres deep and four metres wide, it is defended by tens of thousands of sepoys. What is not known is that the besieged population is desperately short of supplies and ammunition, and an increasing number of the starving soldiers are deserting.

Besides, the military command is preoccupied by General James Outram's imminent arrival. He left Calcutta on August 25th and is marching towards Awadh. Warned by his spies, Rajah Jai Lal has informed the regent that Outram, leading a large, well-equipped army, intends to meet up with General Havelock in Kanpur in order for them to launch a combined attack on Lucknow.

Sir James Outram . . . Hazrat Mahal recalls the kingdom of Awadh's last resident, his arrogance, his lies and the constant humiliations he inflicted on the unfortunate sovereign. She remembers in particular the interview with the Queen Mother, her plea for mercy for her son and Outram's condescending, brutal reply.

She, the fourth wife at the time, could only remain silent . . .
Ah, things have certainly changed. I will show him, this evil Angrez, what my people and I are capable of!

 

Within the Residency's entrenched camp, the besieged captives have regained hope, convinced that this time, they will be saved. Indeed, after waiting over a month for Havelock's army to cover the fifty miles separating Kanpur from Lucknow, they had to face a huge disappointment: the Indian attacks had forced the general to retreat. Since then, despite all his efforts, Colonel Inglis was unable to keep up the garrison's morale.

 

“The fighters are exhausted,” he wrote, begging for relief troops to come to their rescue. “Enemy fire, hunger and sickness claim about twenty victims a day. I do not think we can manage to hold out much longer.”

 

Henceforth, they follow the progress of Outram's troops anxiously. Marching rapidly, the army has reached Kanpur.

On September 19th, it sets off for Lucknow. Crossing the Ganges by means of a floating bridge made of small flat boats, it advances under torrential rain. The first encounter with the Indians occurs twenty-five miles from the capital, exactly where Havelock's troops had been defeated a month earlier. The British charge to cries of “Remember Kanpur” and disperse the enemy forces with swords. Pursuing them, they continue to advance, astonished at the absence of any further resistance. When they reach Alambagh Palace, set in the middle of a garden surrounded by high walls, five miles from Lucknow, only then do they understand the adversary's tactics: protected on the left by the walls of Alambagh, and at the centre and to the right by a series of low hills, the Indians greet the attackers with heavy fire.

The encounter will last three days.

At the height of the combat, a woman appears on the battlefield. Riding an elephant, from her howdah
 
high above, she spurs on the fighters, who cheer her: it is the regent. To galvanise the soldiers in this encounter—the first threat to Lucknow—she has decided to take an active part in the battle. She is also motivated by a need to take revenge on this Outram, who has so profoundly humiliated the royal family.

Surprised by the clamour, Rajah Jai Lal approaches. Recognising the young woman, he halts for a moment, hesitating between admiration and anger. As anger prevails, he spurs his horse on and, arriving level with her, he shouts rudely:

“What are you doing here? Have you lost your mind? This war is not a game. You have a duty to the state and to the king, your son. You have no right to get yourself killed.”

Her green eyes grow almost black with fury:

“How dare you order me around? I do whatever I consider necessary. The soldiers need their queen's encouragement.”

And then she turns her back on him.

She will remain on the battlefield for several hours, exhorting the sepoys, who, captivated by this fragile woman's bravery, fight with increased courage and daring.

When she finally returns to the palace, still exalted by the heat of battle, a messenger is waiting for her; his clothes are dusty, he looks exhausted. He has just come from Delhi: after a week of fierce fighting, the imperial town has fallen.