THE province of Behar and its capital, Patna, did not remain aloof from the wave of Revolution which was sweeping over the North- Western Provinces, Allahabad, Agra, and Bengal. Of the different districts in the province, the chief towns were Gaya, Arrah, Chapra, Motihari, and Muzzafferpore. The army to control the province was stationed near Patna, in the town of Danapur. There was the 7th, 8th, and 40th native infantry and, to keep these in check, there were the European artillery and a European regiment, all under the command of Major-General Lloyd; besides, there was the 12th native cavalry regiment under Major Holmes stationed near by, at Sigwali.
The historical town of Patna was the centre of the powerful Wahabi sect of the Moslem religion. The English commissioner, Tayler, was certain that Patna would take part in the Revolution of 1857, and he therefore kept a close watch on the leaders of that sect. The town of Patna which thoroughly hated the English yoke had started a secret society with the object of overthrowing the English power as far back as 1852. This secret society had amonst its members influential and rich merchants, bankers and Zemindars, a fact which gave the society immense funds for its work. As prominent Moulvies accepted leading positions in the society, the work soon assumed a grave turn. They had correspondence and communication with the secret society at Lucknow as well as with the Sepoys at Danapur. The whole town of Patna, from the police officers down to humble booksellers, was anxious and eager for the moment when the first blow was to be struck against the English power.
Patna was the headquarters of the secret society and the organisation counted amongst its members representatives of all classes in the vast population of the town. To the mass of the people, the word “Feringhi” itself was as gall and wormwood. They had no lack of funds and even sent some money to the distant frontier districts in the west to organise a Revolution against the English. Since the police had also joined, the nightly secret meetings went on without a hitch. The various members of the society employed hundreds of Revolutionaries in their service under various pretexts and paid them out of the funds of the society. While Patna was, thus, burning with the hatred of Feringhi rule, its flames were spreading in all directions in the vast province, giving secret inspiration to the people. Soon, communication was established with the Sepoys stationed for the protection of the province, with the Zemindars, Rajas, with the chief towns in the various districts, and all were hand and glove with the secret society at Patna. The Sepoys in the camp at Danapur began to hold secret meetings and form plans at nights, under cover of the trees! And if they saw some Englishman who might have discovered them on his patrol, they killed him! When the power of the people was thus organised and ready for Revolution, negotiations began with the secret societies at Delhi and at Lucknow.
When the final question was being discussed as to the time when they were to start the Revolution, the English commissioner, Mr.Tayler, got the news of Meerut. Following closely came the news that there was unrest among the Sepoys at Danapur. The commissioner was a clever man and thought the whole of India was rising in Revolution, the Sikhs were yet confirmed traitors. Therefore, Tayler immediately sent two hundred Sikhs under Rattray for the defence of Patna, and the Sikhs, accordingly left for Patna. But, wherever they passed, all the way they were despised and cursed, day and night! They were accused of treachery (Nimal-haram) to the nation and, on the way, villagers would ask them sarcastically, “Are you true Sikhs or Feringhi converts?” They were advised, secretly and openly, to stand up for their country when the crucial moment came. When the Sikhs, with the curses of the whole province on their heads, began to enter the town of Patna, the popular fury became intense everywhere on seeing them; every citizen of the proud city ostentatiously avoided the touch, even of their shadow. What more - the priest of the Sikh temple in that freedom- loving city curtly refused entry to these traitors within the temple! The belief that these Sikhs, were not real followers of Guru Govind Singh - a belief shared by the Sikh Guru, the Mahomedan Moulvie, and the Hindu Prayagwal - is an excellent proof how, in the town of Patna, the ideals of Swadharma and Swaraj were really in unison.9
When the Sikh army came into Patna, Tayler proceeded to try and nip in the bud the Revolutionary activities in the province. The conduct of Waris Ali, the police Jamadar of the Tirhut district, apeared suspicious and the authorities suddenly surrounded his house and made him prisoner. This Jamadar in the English service was just then writing a letter to a Revolutionary leader at Gaya, called Ali Karim! On the evidence of the Revolutionary correspondence seized in his house, he was, soon after, sentenced to death. When he was brought to the scaffold, he shouted, “If there is any real devotee of Swaraj here, let him liberate me!” But, before his request could be heard by the devotees, his lifeless body was hanging from the scaffold!
The Mahomedan leaver, Ali Karim, was also ordered to be arrested and a European detachment was sent for the task. When Mr.Lowis, the head of the detachment, came up to Ali Karim, the latter mounted his elephant and an exciting race began! But, the spectators soon tropped their impartiality and exceeded the bounds of fair play.The neighbouring villagers, seeing the Feringhis chasing a countryman, began to harass the
9 “As soon as the Sikhs entered the town, a wild Fakir rushed forward into the road and, with
savage menaces and threatening gestures, reviled them as traitors and accursed "
- Patna Crisis by Tayler.
former, misdirected them on their way, and, at last, even stole one of their ponies! The English officer “irritated by fatigue and despair,” left it to his Indian servant to chase the swift Karim and returned the next day, not having achieved his task. The servant also, being an English-hater, let Karim alone and came back to his master with a sorry face. While these arrests were going on in the province, Mr. Tayler came to know the names of several leaders in the city and he resolved to surprise them. The Revolutionary secret meetings used to take place in the house of the leaders at night and, though Tayler had no definite information about the names of the persons who were implicated in, or the general programme formed, still he had no doubt about the complicity of three most influential Mullahs of the place. He thought it necessary to arrest them at once. However, there was the fear that an attempt to arrest them openly would, perhaps, precipitate the revolt he wanted to suppress. So, the honest officer struck upon a new plan. One day, select citizens were hospitably invited to Mr. Tayler’s house to confer with him on important political matters. When all the guests had arrived, he came up with the Sikhs; and when, after some conversation the company were taking leave to depart, Tayler stopped the three Moulvies, who were also among the guests, and informed them smilingly that, as it was dangerous to leave them at liberty in the then troublous times, they were arrested! However, this act was applauded everywhere on the the pretext that it was for the good of the English power and all admired Tayler’s energetic action.
After having thus arrested the prominent Revolutionary leaders without shedding a drop of blood, Tayler decided to strike at the town of Patna, while it was still confused at the suddenness of the arrests. He therefore issued an order to disarm the town and prohibited the people from leaving their houses after 0 P.M. This order rendered the nightly meetings of secret societies impossible. The storing of arms, also, became difficult. So long, the Revolutionary society at Patna was awaiting the signal to rise from Danapur. But, when this life-killing procedure began, they resolved to rise
suddenly and boldly rather than be crippled by it. On the 3rd of July, Mussalmans began to crowd towards the house of a leader, Peer Ali by name. They entered his house and settled their plans. In a short time, they came out one by one, with green flags and shouts of “Din, Bolo! Din!” About two hundred Jehadis came out in procession and attacked the church. Just then, a white man, called Lyall, was seen coming with sone troops, and Peer Ali shot him dead, and his infuriated followers hacked his body to pieces beyond recognition! But, Rattray came with his “loyal” Sikhs and made a desperate attack on the Revolutionaries. When the Sikhs thrust their swords in the body of the Mother, when their bodies became red with her blood, then, the handful of Revolutionaries were soon broken up by the force of superior discipline and arms. The English arrested the Revolutionary leaders one after another, among them being Peer Ali who had shot Lyall.
Peer Ali was originally a resident of Lucknow but had lately established himself as a bookseller in Patna. He had imbibed the ideas of independence by reading the books which he used to sell. The conditions of dependence and slavery became unbearable to him. He placed himself in communication with the Revolutionaries at Delhi and Lucknow. He imparted to others his passionate patriotism. Though he was only a humble bookseller, he had great influence in the Revolutionary councils of Patna. He collected together a large number of armed men with the help of the wealthy members of the secret society and they were all sworn to rise against the British power at a given signal. When the English officer at Patna, Mr. Tayler, began torture and oppression, Peer Ali’s hot nature could not keep quiet. He was by nature stern spirited, and brave. He could not bear to see the tortures of his countrymen and therefore he, as he confessed later, “rose prematurely.” Next, we see Peer Ali sentenced to death, severely handcuffed, his hands bleeding from his founds. He stood before the scaffold, with a heroic smile on his face, defying the death that was awaiting him. There was only a slight sob when he took the name of his beloved son.
Immediately, the English officer, to take advantage of his emotion, addressed him these words : “Poor Ali, you might even now save your life by disclosing the names of the other leaders.” Turning calmly to the Feringhi he replied in bold and noble words, “There are some occasions in life when it is desirable to save one’s life - but there are some others when it is more desirable to sacrifice it! This moment is one of the latter kind, when to embrace death at once is the means of eternal life!” Then, describing in plain language the numerous acts of injustice and oppression committed by the English, the martyr dying for his people said, “You might hand me, you might hand other men like me; but, you cannot hand our ideal. If I die, thousands of heroes will rise out of my blood and will destroy your kingdom.“10 With these propetic words, this hero, without casting the shadow of a shame on his country, entered by the door of death into the circle of patriots of immportal memory!
“Out of my blood will rise thousands of heroes!” These last words of the noble martyr could not be falsified, were not falsified! At the news of his death, the “most loyal” regiment at Danapur rose in revolt on the 25th of July. In spite of the presence of an English regiment and English artillery, the three Indian regiments, with their hands, tore away in disgust the Company’s uniforms and marched away to the Shon river. On account of the fear and old age of Major-General Lloyd, the chief officer of the place, trhe English armyt did not dare to pursue the Sepoys. Though the English major-general was thus handicapped by old age, still, in the direction in which the revolted regiments were marching, there is palace of Jagadishpur
10 The Commissioner Tayler himself says : “Peer Ali himself was a model of a desperate and determined fanatic, Repulsive in appearance, with a brutal and sullen countenance, he was calm, self-possessed, almost dignified in language and demeanour. He is the type of the class of men whose unconquerable fanaticism renders them dangerous enemies and whose stern resolution entitled them, in some respects, to admiration and respect!”
was an old hero who, in spite of age, had the spirit of youth in his arms and his sword, and who was proudly twirling his moustache. It is to his banner that the Sepoys were hurriedly flocking!
There was almost always one great defect which often nullified the efforts of the freedom- loving Sepoys and people, and that was the want of capable leaders. In the Shahabad district, at least, the Jagadishpur palace had removed this want, and therefore the Depoys marched thither after crossing the Shon river. For, there the Sepoys could find a leader befitting the battle of Swaraj. A man of heroic spirit, of unconquerable valour, and born in a Rajput family of ancient fame, this leader of the Swaraj war graced the name of Kumar Singh by wearing it. His lordship over the extensive Shahabad lands had been established by the continuity of ages and the people there felta natural love towards his ancient family. Storms of great empires rose and subsided in the land of Hindusthan from time to time; but, through all those cruel vicissitudes, this province was free under its beneficent Rajput princes and continuously enjoyed freedom and Swaraj. Through all the most oppressive seasons of a hundred Revolutions, the Banyan tree of the dynasty of Kumar Singh had been bearing all the inclemencies of heat and cold on its summit, but had never ceased to protect the humble birds that nested in its branches. Summer heat might scorch the top; winter frost might bite the leaves; but the birds enjoyed the quiet of eternal spring for endless generations. The dynasty loved the subjects like its own children; the subjects worshipped the dynasty as the representative of God upon earth. But, to the foreign despot, this reciprocal loyalty and kindness was a thorn in his side. He therefore determined to ruin this royal family! All of a sudden the chattra of Swaraj was broken and the province was laid bare; the tree was struck by the cruel lightning and the birds began to flutter about in helpless agony! And it was with a determination of avenge the wrongs of his dynasty and his country that the old youth was standing on the terrace of Jagdishpur palace, twirling his moustache!
An old youth! - yes, he was an old youth. For, nearly eighty winters had passed over his head and yet the fire in his soul was as fierce as ever and the muscle in his arm was strong. A Kumar of eighty years and a Singh! How could he bear the sight of the spoliation of his country by the English! After Dalhousie swallowed the kingdom of Oudh, the English went about, throughout Hindusthan, digging up and demolishing all raised placed in order to raze them all to the ground. It was in that campaign that Kumar Singh’s country also fell a victim. Kumar Singh swore that he would shatter to pirces the English rule which had ruined his country and Swaraj in this inexcusable, cruel, and unjust manner! And he began at once communications with Nana Sahib.
Commissioner Tayler of Patna had, for long, been receiving information that Kumar Singh was planning a Revolution that he had established communications with Revolutionary societies throughout India, and that hundreds of Sepoys at Patna were secretly in league with him. The very idea, however, that this old man of eighty would run to the battle-field, instead of lying down for a peaceful death, appeared to his mind absolutely impossible. Besides, was not Kumar Singh always writing letters of loyalty to him? Still, Tayler who was not an exception to the usual nobility of heart of Englishmen wrote to Kumar Singh : “You are very old and your health is very bad! I feel great anxiety for your company for the rest of your days. I will feel very much obliged if you will do me the honour of accepting my hospitality.
With the hope that this invitation will not be rejected, - I am yours etc., Tayler.” In the past Afzul Khan had sent a similar invitation to Shivaji! The astute Rajput at once understood that the loving invitation of the commissioner meant only the quiet opening of the prison door! Therefore, he wrote back: “Thanks awfully! It is true, as you say, that my health is very bad; and, therefore, it is that I cannot come to Patna just now. As soon as I feel better, I will start immediately”. O Kumar Singh! You are, indeed, uneasy in mind and body! And it is also true that, when you feel
better after shedding Feringhi blood, you are going to Patna! But, for what ? That is a different question.
Just then came the revolted Danapur Sepoys with the medicine to cure Kumar Singh. “Why do you wait now, oh Kumar Singh! We bind you by the oath of the Motherland, by the oath of our religion, of your honour! Throw away the sheath and draw your sword for Swaraj! You are our king, our leader, our general! You are an ornament to Rajput race; you ought, at once, to jump into the battlefield!” Thus cried the Swaraj-loving Sepoys; thus advised the holy Brahmin priests; thus, also, whispered to him his sword, anxious to smite the enemy!11Then, the hero of eighty, who was too weak to go on an elephant to Patna, was suddenly inspired and, from his sickly bed, he jumped right into the battlefield!
The Sepoys next hurried from Jagadishpur to Arrah, the chief town of the Shahabad district, looted the treasury, and destroyed the English prisons, offices, and flags. At last they turned to a small fortress. The clever Englishmen of the place had stored in that fort arms, ammunition, and stores of provision in order to defend themselves in case of a rising. Besides, a detachment of fifty Sikhs had been sent from Patna to help the handful of Englishmen. While these men, about seventy-five in all, lay waiting in the fort fully prepared, the occasion for which they were waiting arrived and the Revolutionaries besieged the place.
While these twenty-five Englishmen and fifty Sikhs were trying to defend the fort obstinately, the Revolutionaries, instead of assaulting it, were busy in shutting them completely on all sides. It is probable that they considered the place almost in their hands and did not think it worth while to spend time and men in capturing it by general assault. They probably
11 “The Brahmins have incited him to mutiny and rebellion!” - Major Eyre’s Official
Despatch.
thought it more advantageous to look after the surrounding territory and other English camps. Partly for this and partly for the fierce artillery of the besieged, the Sepoys brought up their guns and began to use them instead of ordering a general assault. In one or two places, mines were laid and blown up with dynamite. In a few days, the water-supply in the fort was exhausted. But the Sikhs were too valiant to bear to see the miseries of the English. In twenty-four hours, they dug a new well in the fort! And, while this work was going on, they were, at the same time, fighting like demons. The Europeans would not agree to a conditional surrender, thinking of the fate of their Cawnpore comrades. When the Sepoys discovered that there were Sikhs, besides Feringhis, fighting within the fort, they grew wild with indignation. Because, then it was not alone the Sepoys that were besieging the English but it was Kumar Singh besieging the followers of Guru Govind Singh. The Sikhs were extraordinarily brave but basely treacherous to their country. Every evening, efforts were made to bring them round to their duty. The messengers of the Revolutionaries would stand behind pillars and shout out to them words of advise : “O Sikhs! What hell do you look forward to by thus helping the Feringhis! They who have destroyed our kingdom, they who are violating our Mother-country, they who have insulted our religion! Fighting on their side, what hell do you look forward to?” The Revolutionaries would bind them with oaths of religion, of country, of interest, of freedom. They shouted heart-rending implorations to leavethe side of the Feringhi. They threatened to massacre them if they still persisted in acting treacherously and helping the foreign despots. Not only had all this no effect on the Sikhs, but the reply they would give was a shower of bullets, while the English clapped hands in applause shouting, “Bhale! Bhale!” (Well done!). Thus, the siege went on for three days. On the third night on the 29th, the English force was suddenly awakened by the noise of distant guns. Their faces beamed with smiles. Was it not the English army, coming to kill the Revolutionaries and raise the siege? Yes, it was the English army. About two hundred and seventy Englishmen of the English regiments at Danapur and about one hundred Sikhs under the valiant
Captain Dunbar had come to the banks of the Shon river to raise the siege. Never was the English army so jubilant and hopeful of victory! The Englishmen and women who had come to see them off bade farewell to them, all smiles. The boats sailed smoothly on the Shon and, about seven in the evening, the army reached the outskirts of Arrah. The bright orb of the waxing moon, also, marched along with them to partake of their victory. Oh, Captain Dunbar! Arrange your troops properly while the moon is shining, for soon it will be dark. In this arrangement, as usual, the “loyal Sikhs” must be put in the front. They also stepped forward lightly. Where is the black guide who is to show the way in the thick jungles of Arrah? Put him forth, and then, oh victorious warriors! mArch on brandishing your swords in the bright moonlight. Trees were left behind, the ground was being covered, mile after mile was being crossed, and even the Arrah bridge is reached. But, what is this? Where is the enemy? How is this, that not a single Revolutionary has yet fallen? The cowards have run away! They have run away at the bare news that Dunbar is coming! Even Alexander did not inspite his enemies with such terror! Oh Moon! You have so long waited in cold and wind to witness the raging battle, but you have only seen the cleverness of the retreat of the Revolutionaries. Go, then; do not stay any longer to be disappointed; draw the curtain of night over this universe and retire to your resting place! But, though the moon went away, you, Dunbar! do not return! Here now comes the mango-grove and there is no more chance of encountering the Pandays. But, oh! What is this sound? May it not be the leaves of the mango-tree shaking in the wind? Whiz! Whiz!! Beware, Englishmen! Beware! A deluge of bullets from all sides! Every tree of the mango-grove had as if guns in its branches, smiting the foreign Feringhis! Kumar Singh is come? The English army is prepared to fight; but, with whom? Not one man on the enemy’s side could be seen! In the thick mango- grove, in the weird darkness of the night, in the high and low places, Kumar Sing’s soldiers were hidden and not one could be seen! Nothing was visible except the stars in the sky and the trees on the earth! And it was not possible to fire at both these and gain victory! The wind-god was enraged and sent
red-hot shots from somewhere foaming, into the English army! Fire from the left, fire from the right, and fire in front! The clothes of the English army were white and easily distinguishable but Kumar Singh’s men were dark, their clothes were dark, and the night was dark! If all the dark circumstances conspired together, how could the English hold to their feet? The white Englishmen and the dark Sikhs, both ran away from the field! Their commander, Dunbar, was one of the first to be killed. Running for life, the English army came into a ditch near by. There they tried to hold on for some time, but, about early morning, they left behind not only their dead but their wounded comrades on the field and commenced the fight to the Shon river, being thirsty, hungry, full of blood, and black with shame. But it was no easy matter to run away from Kumar Singh. At every step, blood began to flow. As a wild boar pierced by lances, dropping on this side and that through weakness, runs shedding streams of blood on the field - such was the English army when it came to the Shon river. But here, there was the climax of destruction. At first, they could not find their boats. After some time, they found that they had stuck in the sand. Those that there were not so stuck had been set fire to by the Pandays! At last, a couple of boats were saved. When the white population of Danapur came to the bank expecting to greet a victorious army singing war-songs, and bringing with them the rescued men of Arrah, they did not hear a single shout of joy from the boats. No flag, no band, not a single face uplifted! All hearts began to beat in impatience, “My son, my brother, my husband, my father left only yesterday for the field in all hopes; and to-day - God forbid the thought!” Before the prayer could reach Heaven, the unfortunate troops landed on the Ghat at Danapur, and soon the terrible news spread like lightning that, out of four hundred and fifteen men, only about fifty returned alive safe from the hands of Kumar Singh! An Englishman writes, “He who had heard the heart- rending cries of those English women will not forget it to this day! Some began tobeat their breasts, crying piteously, some shouted hoarsely, and some began to pull away their hair. If they had seen General Lloyd, the originator of this destructive plan, there is not the lease doubt that they would have lynched him!”
But while the sky was being rent by the cries of these women at Danapur, Major Eyre was marching towards Arrah to revenge the defeat and their sorrow. Though he had not yet heard of Dunbar’s defeat, he had marched straight towards Arrah, on hearing that the English there were besieged. While Kumar Singh’s Sepoys were returning after crushing Dunbar’s army on the 29th and 30th of July, they got the news that Eyre was advancing towards Arrah. The old commander got together his troops without losing a moment. He made the arrangements for fighting after taking advantage of every stragetic position on the route, and gave the last desperate battle on the 2nd of August, near the village of Bibiganj. Both armies endeavoured to take possession of a thick forest near by. In this race between youth and age, the aged Kumar Singh arrived first and, thus defeating Eyre’s plans, he opened a terrible dire. Eyre had three excellent guns and he was continually advancing on the strength of these. Thrice Kumar Singh’s men jumped at the guns. Thrice did they go almost near the mouth of the fire- spitting guns, but the English kept their artillery constantly firing. At that moment, Captain Hastings came up panting to the commander Eyre, and said, “Eyre, even the English infantry is being pushed back! Victory has slipped from us!” If this state had continued for half an hour more, the battle would have been Kumar Singh’s. Now, as anyhow the victory was going, the English wanted to try a last desperate attack before leaving the field. In this, Eyre ordered the English force to charge with bayonets. Immediately, the English soldiers rushed like arrows on the Revolutionaries. It cannot be understood why the Sepoys who would bravely rush up to the mouths of guns could not stand a general charge with bayonets, but it is certain that they did not withstand it. Eyre drove them out of the thicket and pushed forward, marched up to the fortress at Arrah, and relieved the Englishmen besieged there. And the town of Arrah thus fell into English hands again.
The siege of Arrah lasted only for eight days. In these eight days, the brave Rajput had to maintain the siege as well as fight two battles. His extraordinary courage spirit, and bravery were not matched by the bravery of his followers, and so, after suffering defeat at Eyre’s hands, Kumar Singh had to retreat to Jagadishpur. But when he heard that the English army, reinforced by the lately besieged troops at Arrah, were swelling considerably, he began to collect together all the available fighting men at Jagadishpur. The English by this time had seen not a little of Kumar Singh’s activity. Fearing that he might again march on Arrah, Eyre forestalled him and himself started towards Jagadishpur. Kumar Singh was greatly handicapped and recognised that it was impossible, with his disheartened followers, to oppose in open battle the English army, well- disciplined and victorious, and that, too, near a capital town. He, therefore, decided to use guerilla tactics and, after two sharp skirmishes, came out of Jagadishpur. And Eyre, with the English army, pitched his tent in Kumar Singh’s palace on the 14th of August! Though the English destroyed the palace, the Hindu temples, and other buildings at Jagadishpur, still, the idol of the temples, the king of the palaces, and the owner of the buildings, Kumar Singh, was as unconquerable after the battle as before it. Other kings might be cowed down by the fall of their capitals, but the king of Jagadishpur was not of that sort. His motto was, “Wherever I am, there is Jagadishpur!” So, to hold Jagadishpur without capturing him was only a vain endeavour. Now that his home was lost - the battlefield itself had become his home.