Page:Encyclopædia Britannica, Ninth Edition, v. 5.djvu/290

Rh 278 C A W N P U R eleven towns, 411 officers and men, costing 3183, 12s. At the charitable dispensaries 2634 patients received treatment during 18/3, at a cost of 1131, 5d., of which Government contributed two- thirds. The Government and aided schools in the district in 1873 numbered 391, attended by 10,731 pupils. CAWNPUK CITY, the administrative headquarters of the district of the same name, and a large military canton ment, situated on the right or south bank of the Ganges, in 26 29 N. lat. and 80 25 E. long. The river here is about 500 yards wide in summer, but when swollen by the rains increases to about a mile in breadth, with a strong and rapid current. It is navigable southwards to the sea, a distance of 1000 miles; and upwards as far as Sukertal, 300 miles to the north-west. A bridge of boats crosses the Ganges at Cawnpur, and the ghits, or landing- places, on the bank present a busy scene of commerce. The city is built on a sandy plain ; and, together with the cantonments, contained in 1872 a total population of 122,710 souls, classified as follows : Hindus, 90,582; Muhammadans, 31,888; Christians, 300. This classification apparently excludes the European soldiers. The canton ment fonns one of the large military stations of Northern India, and has accommodation for 7000 fighting men. Excluding the cantonment, the population within the limits of the Cawupur municipality amounted to 98,476 in 1872. The municipal income in 1871-72 amounted to 19,323, and the expenditure to 15,639. Cawnpur is a station on the East India Railway, and also a terminus of tha Oudh and Rohilkhand Railway. The principal thoroughfare in the native town is the Chandni Chauk, or &quot;street of silver,&quot; upwards of 100 feet in width. Cawnpur is noted for the excellence and cheapness of its leather manufactures, such as saddlery, harness, boots and shoes, &amp;lt;tc. History. The importance of Cawnpur city dates from its selection as a military post, when the Ceded Provinces were acquired by the East India Company in 1801. The one great event in its history is the siege of the British position by the rebel Sepoys during the mutiny of 1857, and the treacherous massacre which followed on the surrender of the garrison. The story of the mutiny and massacre of Cawnpur has been fully chronicled by Sir J. AV. Kaye, Colonel Mowbray Thomson, and Mr G. O. Trevelyan. On the deposition of Maharaja Baji Rao, the last Marhatta Peshwa, or sovereign of Puna, by the East India Company, he received an annuity of 80,000 a year, and had a princely residence assigned to him at Bithur, a short distance from Cawnpur. Here he lived in great state until his death in 1851. His heir was an adopted son, named Sirik Dandhu Panth, more commonly known as the Nand Sahib, who succeeded to the late Peshwa s estate at Lithur, and to the great accumulations of wealth which he had left behind him. An application of Ndnd Sahib for a continuance of the annuity or pension granted to his adop tive father was, however, disallowed by the Indian Govern ment; and on appeal, this decision was upheld by the Board of Control and by the Privy Council in England. For this refusal to grant what he looked upon as his right, Nana Siihib cherished a bitter grudge against the English, which, however, he carefully concealed until the outbreak of the mutiny afforded him his opportunity for revenge. In May 1857 the European force in the Cawnpur cantonment consisted of a handful of artillery and infantry, making about 300 fighting men, including the English officers of the Sepoy regiments. The native force comprised the 1st, 53d, arid 65th regiments ol native infantry, and the 2d regiment of Bengal cavalry, about 3000 men in all. The division was commanded by General Sir Hugh Wheeler. The native troops began to manifest, early in 1857, the eame symptoms of disquiet as other native regiments stationed in Bengal and Upper India. When the news of the outbreak at Meerut and Delhi reached Cawnpur, the excitement among the native soldiery, camp followers, and city population increased to such a degree that General Wheeler deemed it expedient to throw up defensive works, within which the whole Christian population might gather in event of a rising. Unfortunately, the bite chosen for the entrenchment proved unsuitable in almost every respect. The fortifications,&quot; writes Sir John W. Kaye, &quot;were so paltry, that an English subaltern could have ridden over them on a cast horse from the company s stud. The earthworks were little more than 4 feet high, and were not even bullet-proof at the crest. The apertures for the artillery exposed both our guns and our gun ners, whilst an enemy in adjacent buildings might find cover on all sides.&quot; Towards the end of May it became evident that the rising of the Sepoys was only a question of time, and accordingly all women, children, and non-combatants were gathered within the improvised entrenchments. On the night of the 4th June the crisis arrived. The 2d cavalry set the example of open rebellion, and were immediately followed by the 1st regiment of foot. The treasury ivas robbed, and the magazine, with its enormous supplies of am munition and artillery, was taken possession of by the mutineers. The following morning the 53d and 56th native regiments joined their comrades. The Nona s opportunity had now come. He placed himself at the head of the rebels, and was proclaimed Peshwa of the Marhattas, in feudatory allegiance to the Delhi emperor. On the 6th June he sent notice to General Wheeler that he was about to attack the position. Within this slight fortification upwards of a thousand souls had taken refuge, of whom 465 were men of all ages and professions. Every one able to bear arms was told off to the defence. At noon be gan the siege, &quot; the miseries of which to the besieged,&quot; says Sir J. W. Kaye, &quot;have never been exceeded in the history of the world. All the wonted terrors of a multitudinous enemy without, of a feeble garrison and scant shelter within, of the burden of women and chil dren and sick people, with little to appease their wants or to allay their sufferings, were aggravated by the burning heat of the climate. The June sky was little less than a great canopy of fire ; the sum mer breeze was as the blast of a furnace ; to touch the barrel of a gun was to recoil as from red-hot iron. It was the season when European strength and energy are ever at their lowest point of depression ; when military duty in its mildest form taxes the powers of Englishmen to the utmost, and English women can do little more than sustain life in a state of languid repose, in shaded apartments, with all appliances at command to moderate the temperature and mitigate the suffering. But now, even under the fierce meridian sun, this little band of English fighting men were ever straining to sustain the strenuous activity of constant battle against fearful odds, whilst delicate women and fragile children were suddenly called to endure discomforts and privations which it would have been hard to battle with in strong health under their native skies.&quot; The deficiencies of the position as a place of defence soon became apparent. It was exposed to a continuous cannonade from heavy siege guns, taken from the magazine, and to a ceaseless hail-storm of musketry fire from a range of buildings just outside the entrench ments. All attempts of the mutineers to push forward were fiercely driven back, and a general attack upon the British position was defeated with heavy loss to the assailants. But the contest was too unequal to last long. By the end of the first week our fifty-nine artillerymen were all wounded or killed at their posts. On the eighth day of the siege a great calamity befel the garrison. The building assigned as a shelter for the women and children was burned down, and the sick and wounded had henceforth neither roof over head to shelter them by day, nor any bedding between them and the bare earth at night. The miseries of hunger and thirst and disease were now added to the fire of the enemy and the exposure to the burn ing sun. During the three weeks which the siege lasted, 250 of the little garrison were interred in the well within the entrenchment. Fearfully reduced in numbers, with their guns almost unservice able, their ammunition nearly expended, and starvation staring them in the face, they found it impossible to hold out much longer. When thus almost at the last extremity of despair, a written mes sage came from the Nana, offering to provide a safe passage to Allahabad to all who laid down their arms. The question of capitu lation was long and anxiously discussed before the measure was decided on ; but the consideration of the women and children, and of the sick and wounded, led to the acceptance of the Nana s terms on the 26th June, and it was arranged to evacuate the entrench ment next morning, the Nana engaging to provide safe conduct for the garrison to the river side, and sufficient boats to convey them to Allahabad. Accordingly, on the following morning, the remnant of the little garrison left the entrenchment and feebly dragged themselves to the river-stairs appointed as the place of embarkation. Here ensued the act of treachery which was destined for long years to embitter the feelings between the English nation and the Indian races. The boats were in waiting as arranged, and the embarkation was accom plished. No sooner, however, were all on board than on a signal the native boatmen deserted their vessels and clambered to shore. A murderous fire was opened on the boats from both sides of the river, and presently the thatched roofs of the vessels burst into flames, having been ignited by hot cinders. The boats were aground