The 73rd Disarmed, Dacca, 22nd November

Throughout the day, on the 21st of November, boatmen from Chittagong arrived at Dacca with horrifying stories. Chittagong, they said, was destroyed. Everyone had been murdered, the sepoys had looted the town, and there was nothing left of Chittagong, they said but flames and ruins. This was far from the truth, and as the authorities well knew from their own sources, Chittagong was, in fact, untouched, and the Europeans had escaped death. However, there was little for it but to place Dacca in a state of alert. However, the cricket match scheduled for that afternoon continued as planned, the Volunteers were at their usual exercise with ball cartridge and in the evening, everyone went out for a drive.
The commissioner, however, had removed some of the treasure from the collectorate and placed it under the guard of the sailors; he then set about, with the assistance of Lieutenant Lewis of the Naval Brigade, to secure the city. A watch was set on the Megna River to prevent any of the 34th from crossing over should they be so inclined. Messages from Chittagong had been sent to the nearby districts and indeed to Dacca, warning them of the flight of the mutineers – above all, vigilance was needed. The Raja of Tiperrah had received the news, and he was preparing to intercept the 34th. The 73rd at Dacca had not shown any signs of dissent, but it was hard to know what the sepoys would do when they heard the news from Chittagong.
On the 21st, towards evening, the Dacca authorities, both civil and military, assembled. The question was not so much what to do if the 34th suddenly arrived at their doorstep but how to treat the 73rd BNI. Their officers protested that the two companies had done nothing wrong, and if the regiment at Jalpaiguri could be taken as an example, it was likely they would continue to be faithful to their salt. They had fought well since their raising in 1825 and proudly carried the battle honours, “Mooltan, Moodkee, Ferozeshuhur, Punjab” on their Colours. But protests were useless in front of men determined that nothing would be left to chance. The officers were out-voted, and the decision was made to disarm the 73rd. There would be no parade, no conciliatory words from their officers, no chance to redeem themselves. It had been noted that over the past months, the sepoys of the 73rd, some 260 men in all, had begun to take objection to the presence of the sailors who, by this time, were somewhat bored of the endless patrolling cooped up as they were in Dacca. Their behaviour towards the locals was not exemplary, and it is likely the sepoys had borne the brunt of it. It is little wonder the men of the 73rd had protested they would not stand to be disarmed if this was the rabble that would do it.
At daybreak on the 22nd of November, the Naval Brigade under Lieutenant Lewis and the 30 volunteers assembled and set out from the quarters of the sailors. They resolutely marched through the town, disarming sepoy guards as they found them at the treasury and other public buildings – there was no resistance. Mr. Brennand, who accompanied the volunteers, found the scene at the treasury most depressing.

“There were about fifteen of the sepoys standing or sitting outside their quarters, and the rest of them, making about 36, were supposed to be inside the building. They appeared very much dejected, and they reproached their officers for subjecting them to such disgrace, protesting they would have given up their arms at once to their own officers had they only been asked to do so.”

News, however, had swift feet that morning. By the time the party reached the Lal Bagh – the sprawling old fort now being used by the 73rd as their headquarters and magazine – according the Lieutenant Lewis of the Naval Brigade who led the party, they found the sepoys drawn up by their magazine with the two 6-pounder guns of the native artillery in the centre. They had taken care to position men at their hospital, at the barracks, which were on the top of a hill within the fort grounds and were taking care of the loopholes in the walls. If the report of Lewis is to be believed, the sepoys were well-organised and, above all, ready for a fight. This is insofar true but only to a point.

Lieutenant Lewis immediately deployed his men into line – the sepoys opened fire from the front and left flank with canister and musketry.

“We gave them one volley, and then charged with the bayonet up the hill, and carried the whole of the barracks on the top of it, breaking the doors with our musket butts, and bayonetting the sepoys inside. As soon as this was done, we charged downhill and, taking them in flank, carried both their guns and all the buildings, driving them into the jungle. While we were thus employed with the small-arm men, the two mountain train howitzers, advancing within 150 yards, took up a position to the right, bearing on the enemy’s guns in the rear of their magazine, and, unlimbering, kept up a steady and well-directed fire. Every one, both officers and men, behaved most gallantly, charging repeatedly in face of a most heavy fire without the slightest hesitation for a moment.”

The report, as presented by Lieutenant Lewis, is a far cry from what Mr. Brennand witnessed.

“The sentry first fired his musket and killed one of our men; his example was followed by the others and a volley was fired on the sailors as they advanced through the broken wall near the southern gateway. The guns had been placed in front of Beebee Peri’s tomb, to command the entrance, and they opened fire upon our men with grape. As soon as the sailors had got well into the place, they fired a volley. Lieutenant Lewis then led them up the ramparts to the left, charging the sepoys and driving them before them at the point of the bayonet. The sepoys took shelter in their quarters but were driven from building to building by the sailors. At this time, Mr Mayo, a midshipman, at the head of eight men under his command, made a gallant charge from the ramparts down upon the sepoys’ guns; they were soon taken and spiked, and the sepoys began to fly in every direction. There was a severe struggle at the end of the rampart; many of the sepoys were driven over the rampart. Mr Bainbridge also had a fall over the parapet as he stepped back to avoid the thrust of one of the sepoys. The sailors obtained a complete victory; the sepoys fled and concealed themselves in the jungle, leaving about forty killed.”

There was no attempt made to actually disarm the sepoys at any point – when the battle was over, 41 sepoys lay dead, eight were found to be desperately wounded, and three were shot at as they tried to escape across the river and drowned. The rest fled – one of their officers – Lieutenant Hitchens – had taken part in the raid, and only at the beginning of events did he attempt to speak to his men – after which he actively took part in shooting at them. It would be hard to find men more sorely abused than the two companies of the 73rd at Dacca.

The remainder of the 73rd would try to find their way to Jalpaiguri – but for the authorities at Dacca, they could say they had saved this most eastern of cities from wreck and ruin. No one considered the sepoys had reacted from fear and most likely could have been brought to reason had their officers been half the men Colonel Sherer had proved himself to be. But it was too late for the men of the 73rd now. They would become hunted fugitives.

List of Killed and Wounded during the raid on the 73rd
Lieutenant T. E. Lewis, Indian Navy, commanding the detachment, slightly.
Dr. Green, civil surgeon, severely. He was wounded in the thigh while kneeling down to attend to a wounded sailor.
Lieutenant Dowell, Bengal Artillery, slightly (spent ball).

HMS Punjab
John Jones, C.F.C., slightly.
Able Seamen
Henry Smith, mortally, since dead.
Neil McMullen, A.B., dangerously.
William Hesden, A.B., dangerously.
Alexander M‘Miller, A.B., dangerously.
George List, A.B., severely.

HMS Zenobia
Thomas Kean, artillery gunner, severely.
Robert Brown, artillery gunner, severely.
Samuel Hughes, Zenobia, Bombay Artillery, severely.
Able Seamen
James Munro, dangerously.
Charles Gardiner, dangerously.
James Hughes, artillery gunner, severely.
George Adams, severely.
William Alfred, severely.
Patrick O’Brien, slightly.

Calcutta greeted the news from Dacca and Chittagong along with their customary official letters, heaped praise on the men of Dacca. Then, with surprising speed, they despatched, on the 26th of November by river from Calcutta, three companies of H.M.’s 54th and one hundred seamen, followed the next day by another party of 100 sailors. The 54th was to proceed first to Dacca and then take up the chase of the 34th as soon as anyone figured out where they were actually headed. The sailors were to move northwards towards Rangpur and Dinajpur to protect the country from any mutineers who might consider making their way upcountry. It was suddenly deemed of the utmost importance to “secure the country,” albeit a little late.

“The morning after the fight, Monday, the 23rd of November, the three Sepoy prisoners were taken before the Zillah judge, who summarily sentenced them to be hanged on the following day. There was not the least doubt or hesitation about it, and Lord Canning’s celebrated Five Acts, which conferred upon every civilian in the country the powers usually exercised under martial law by a General Drum-head Court, fully warranted the procedure. At the appointed hour, the ground being kept by the sailors and Volunteers, the three Sepoys were escorted under the ugly and grim-looking beam by a strong guard of Native police. A dense spectre-like multitude, dressed in white, had assembled from the city and occupied every point from which a view could be obtained of the drop. A dead silence prevailed among the vast multitude of people, who could be seen in every direction as far as the eye could reach. The magistrate read and explained to each of the three men their crimes and sentences, but they said nothing; the sharp cold of a chilly November morning made them shiver, and the near approach of death had apparently struck them dumb with terror. The two wounded men had to be assisted up the drop; the other, a Hindu, went up the ladder unaided and met his doom with much fortitude. He, at the last moment, preferred a request to the magistrate that his body should not be buried but be thrown into the river. He was told that his request was granted. When the bolt was drawn and the three men were seen suspended in the air, a low, long-continued moan arose from the hitherto silent multitude, which soon afterwards dispersed as quietly as it had assembled. This was the last act of the mutiny at Dacca. For seven long months, the European inhabitants had been sleeping with revolvers under their pillows and with their guns loaded by their bedsides, ready for immediate use. All care and anxiety were now removed.” (History of the Indian Navy, Vol II, p.443, Lowe, 1877)

^{Sources:
Allen, Basil Copleston. Eastern Bengal District Gazetteers: Dacca. Allahabad: Pioneer Press, 1912.
Behan, T. L. Bulletins and Other State Intelligence for the Year 1858. Part I. London: Harrison & Sons, London Gazette Office, 1860.
Bradley-Birt, F. B. Dacca: The Romance of an Eastern Capital. London: Smith, Elder & Co., 1914.
Gimlette, G. H. D. A Postscript to the Records of the Indian Mutiny. London: H. F. Witherby, 1927.
Great Britain Parliament. Further Papers (Nos. 6 and 9) Relative to the Mutinies in the East Indies. London: Harrison and Sons, 1858.
Malleson, G. B. History of the Indian Mutiny, 1857-1858, Commencing from the Close of the Second Volume of Sir John Kaye’s History of the Sepoy War. Vol. II. London: Wm. H. Allen & Co., 1879.
Seton-Karr, Walter Scott. A Short Account of Events during the Sepoy Mutiny of 1857-58 in the Districts of Belgaum and of Jessore. London: Bentley and Son, 1894.}