Duty Done

A most circuitous journey: Fatehpur-Banda-Nagode-Rewa to Mirzapur

Leaving Osbourne behind in Rewa, Sherer, Macnaghten, Bews and the others made their way to Mirzapur. The station to the best of their knowledge was safe and they hoped their appearance would not cause a panic.

The district of Mirzapur with an area of 5334 square miles and just short of 1 million inhabitants was bounded to the north by Benares and Jaunpur, and the west by Allahabad. Crossed by the Vindhya and Kaimur mountain ranges and traversed by the Ganges, Son and Karmnasa rivers, it was, in June 1857, still relatively peaceful. As Sherer and his party made their way into the district, the long-expected rains broke in earnest.

Mirzapore, 1835

The civil officers at Mirzapur were Mr. Lean, the judge, St.George Tucker, the magistrate and collector and his assistant, Mr. Balmain. Messrs. J. Simson and P. Walker served as deputy magistrates, Mr. Moore was the joint magistrate. The troops in the station consisted of a wing of the Ferozepore Sikhs, half of whom were employed in guarding the rather small district treasury which, in 1857 could boast of no more than 2 lakh rupees.
Since the news of the outbreaks at Meerut at Delhi, Mr. Tucker had had his hands full. A man of great energy and not wanting in common sense, upon receiving the news on the 19th of May he immediately placed a strong guard of police at the Bhatauli ferry.
Aware that it would only take a small spark to start a storm, Tucker was determined to not let even the most trifling incident go unnoticed as he proved on the 21st of May.
On that day, firing was heard east of Mirzapur. The civilians were ordered to retire to the public offices with the Sikhs and everyone was placed on alert. As it turned out, it was only a marriage procession – the civilians were sent home but the Sikhs were told to remain on guard.
The 6th of June brought bad tidings from Benares and Jaunpore – these mutinies were much closer to home than Meerut or Delhi; to make matters worse, a wing of the 47th BNI, under command of Colonel Pott, was due to arrive in Mirzapur the next day on their way from Prome to Allahabad.
Fortunately for Tucker, Colonel Pott was not enamoured with his regiment. Unlike many officers in 1857, he was under no illusion in regard to his men. As it turned out, the 47th was one of the few regiments that did not mutiny.

The Loyal 47th BNI

Pugri badge, 7th (Duke of Connaught’s Own Rajputs) Regiment of Bengal Infantry, 1893-1901
The 47th became the 7th in 1893. It continues serving in the Indian Army today as the 7th Rajput Regiment

Raised in 1804 as the 1st Battalion, 24th Regiment Bengal Native Infantry, when the previous 24th was absorbed into the 7th Regiment in the 1796 army reorganisation, they would, in 1824, become the 47th Regiment of Bengal Native Infantry under Major W.C. Baddeley.
It was the same year the regiment was embroiled in the travesty that was the Barrackpore Mutiny – the regiment was disbanded and struck off the list. To take their place, the 69th BNI was raised at Benares. All the officers who had previously been attached to the 47th were now transferred to the new 69th, with the exception of Lieut-Colonel Cartwright who was posted to a European regiment instead. He was replaced by Lieut-Colonel J.W.Blackney of the 35th.
To avoid another Barrackpore incident, the 69th was raised as an exclusively General Service regiment, its men obliged to serve where ever the government chose to send them. To make it absolutely clear, a list of General Service regiments was published in which it was stipulated that they should be “designated as such, or Volunteers.”
The 69th was an exemplary regiment and from the day they were raised had never shown anything but their best service. In 1828, as the “last memories of the unhappy incident at Barrackpore were expunged” a General Order was issued on the 13th of June, restoring the number “47” to the Army List and it was given to the 69th.
The next 10 years were spent in cantonments the length and breadth of northern India, only broken up by 2 years in Burma. In 1842 they were back in Barrackpore.
In April 1845 they were sent to Ambala – a defining move for the regiment as it would put them squarely into the First Sikh War. It is here we first meet Captain D. Pott – or as he would be in 1857, Colonel Pott.
Serving at the battles of Mudki and Ferozeshah in 1845, Aliwal and Sobraon in 1846, the regiment would be mentioned in dispatches as having “greatly distinguished itself” at Sobraon with the following toll:
Killed: Jemadar Jorawar Khan and seven other ranks
Wounded: Lieutenant and Adjutant R. Renny; Lieutenant H.C. James (attached); Ensign W.H. Walcot; Ensign J.D. Ogstone; Subadar Major Bhawani Lal Dube; Subadar Dharial Singh; Subadar Meerut Singh; Jemadar Sardar Khan; and sixty-four other ranks.
The regiment was granted the Battle Honours, “Moodkee,” “Ferozeshah,” “Aliwal,” and “Sobraon, ” on the 12th of December 1846.

Following the war, the 47th was sent to different stations until the outbreak of war with Burma in 1851. Being a general service regiment, they could not refuse to go, but it was universally known that Burma was immensely disliked by the sepoys and Europeans alike. Cholera and various fevers were rampant in Burma, the climate was unpleasant and the locals particularly hostile. In 1853, the 47th set sail for Rangoon. After three years in Burma, the 47th returned to Calcutta – they had set out as a force of 1200 men and came back with less than 500. 700 men had been lost to sickness, transfers to the pension establishment and discharges. Even Pott, now a major had at one point been ordered to undertake a sea voyage for his health. However, he returned to his regiment in Burma and accompanied them back to India. It was April 1857.
At the outbreak of the mutiny, Major (acting Colonel) David Pott was standing in as Commandant. The Colonel, S.D.Riley was on furlough and the Lieutenant-Colonel, J. Nash was commanding at Delhi. Out of 22 officers, nearly half were either on furlough or serving out of their regiment. It was the same story for the 47th as it was for so many others – too many officers were simply not interested enough to stay with their regiments. The difference was that those that did stay with the 47th had already served with them for some years; men like David Pott, Henry Worsley and William Henry Walcot.
In Calcutta, the authorities at that erstwhile station had some difficulty in deciding what to do with the 47th and how to use them to the best advantage. The regiment had barely recovered from their trials in Burma but they were ordered to proceed by steamer to Mirzapur as an escort for 10 lakhs of treasure assigned to the district’s magistrate. Although it was the intention to split the 47th up, with one wing to remain in Mirzapur and the other to be dropped off at Dinapur, it was deemed unfeasible – the entire strength of the regiment barely made up one wing and it would have been necessary to withdraw all furlough in order to make up the numbers needed to form detachments. Rather than annoy men who were entitled to leave after so many years in Burma, the idea was dropped.
On the 7th of June, the 47th arrived in Mirzapur.

General Pott had served with the 47th since 1833. He would continue serving with them until 1864.

It must be pointed out here that no one could be sure of the temper of the men. There had already been too many stations where the regiment, on professing loyalty one day, suddenly gave themselves over to mayhem and murder on the next. Upon arriving in Mirzapur Colonel Pott felt it best to send the majority of the 47th on furlough, keeping a certain number in whom he had implicit faith. He did not send them all away – that would have been folly – instead, he sent the men in batches. When one party returned from furlough, the next was sent. It must be noted here that not a single man failed to return. He further defied the direct orders of General Neill in regards to the paying out of the savings of his men. From their time in Burma, their savings had amounted to 1 lakh rupees – Neill was under the deluded idea that the money should be withheld from them to ensure their loyalty. Pott did not agree; instead, he paid it out in fortnightly instalments, a measure the men found extremely acceptable. They had cash in hand for local use and then enough to take home on furlough. Pott secured a loyalty that Neill would never understand.
Besides Colonel Pott, another officer of exceptional standing was Lieutenant Walcot. Like Pott, he had spent his career with the 47th and was, on top of everything else, an exceptionally gifted Hindustani scholar. They also put their faith in turn in Subadar Major Oomar Khan Bahadur and Drill Havildar Fakira Ram, men of outstanding intelligence who kept their officers apprised of the doings of the regiment. Walcot took it on himself to intercept any post coming into the 47th and was thus able to filter out anything written that incited mutiny. What the regiment had was something so many others didn’t – they had strong officers who they could trust but who did not believe their men were faultless. It was discipline and genuine understanding that was so severely lacking in other regiments that would finally keep the 47th true to their salt. Pott and Walcot knew their men.

Subadar of the 7th(Duke of Connaught’s Own Rajputs) Regiment. Taken in Lucknow, in the 1880s.

On the 8th of June, the Sikhs were ordered to Allahabad. The call was so sudden that Mr. Tucker had just enough time to send Rs 60,000 in treasure with them but he had no opportunity to deal with the munitions. As a result, their spare arms and the ammunition in their magazine remained in Mirzapur. Colonel Pott immediately took possession of the ammunition and promptly threw all the spare cartridges (50’000 in all) and the nipples of all the surplus muskets into the river. He then ordered for an entrenched position to be dug which enclosed not just the post office but a bungalow on the right side of the river and then mounted guns for protection, with Lieutenant E.S.Fox as the artillery officer. It was the misfortune however of Ensign A.J. Scott to be sent as an escort on a convoy of boats carrying supplies of tents and spare clothes for field use to Allahabad. He would be killed by mutineers at that ill-fated station.

Transport boats on the Ganges – although the ones depicted here are hauling cotton, they would have been similar, if not the same ones used in 1857 for transportation. Chromolithograph, William Simpson, 1867.

On the 5th of June, Lieutenant C.V. Jenkins, (one of the officers away from the regiment and doing duty with the 8th Oudh Infantry in Sultanpore) arrived in Mulloopore, some 26 miles from Allahabad. He had in tow his family and 35 other men, women and children all fugitives from that station and seeking refuge. The villagers proved to be hostile and commenced attacking the party. They were saved from their plight two sepoys of the 47th, Shiunath and Janki Upadhya, who were returning from furlough. Recognising Jenkins, the sepoys intervened and provided them with food and supplies. Splitting the party up into smaller groups to make it easier to hide them, the sepoys offered Jenkins and his family disguises in which they could then smuggle them into Mirzapur. A loyal zamindar, Munshi Ajit Singh interceded and under an escort of 150 men, he protected the fugitives all the way to Allahabad. However, the two sepoys refused to leave their side until they had reached the station in safety.
Lieutenant William Walcot on the other hand, trusted his instincts. Having chosen to spend some of his leave with his friends Colonel Smith (late of the 47th BNI and now serving with the 10th) and Mrs. Smith at Fatehgarh, he found himself there, at the mutiny outbreak. Although he initially volunteered to serve with a body of matchlock men raised by a local zamindar, Walcot quickly realised the situation, in all likelihood would only get worse. Gathering up his small son Edgar, he left Fatehgarh for Allahabad shortly before the roads closed and then onto Mirzapur. He had been unable to convince Smith that his loyalty in the 10th was misplaced but when he bid goodbye to his friend he did not know it was to be for the last time. Smith and his family would perish shortly after in Cawnpore.

The 47th at Lucknow, 1883. Colonel Worsley is seated in the middle.
Colonel Worsley. A lieutenant during the mutiny, he served with the 47th in 1857.

Mr. Moore Must Die

When Sherer arrived in Mirzapore, with the news for St. George Tucker regarding the fate of his brother at Fatehgarh, he described the situation in the town as “the feeling was very far from being one of security; recent events at Benares had created great excitement, and there was the chance that the Sepoys might break out from apprehension of attack; whilst in the city the merchants and bankers were timid and cold-hearted, and there had always existed, beside and around these, a strong element of bad characters.” However, a few things had happened in Mirzapore before Sherer’s arrival.
Notwithstanding Pott’s measures and Tucker’s energy, many of the residents of Mirzapore had fled to the Fort at Chanar on the 9th of June so what Sherer found, besides a tense station, was a rather empty one. However, a few things had happened in Mirzapore before Sherer arrived.

Tucker and Pott Make a Decision

The 10th of June brought a body of men of the 50th from Nagode to Mirzapur – they had in tow several prisoners for Mr. Tucker to deal with. Trusting the demeanour of the men 50th and sensing no outward signs of disenchantment, he marched out with them to bring to justice some marauders who had plundered the property of the East India Railway. The depot, located 5 miles from the courthouse had been looted in broad daylight and Tucker was not having this kind of robbery in what was effectively his own backyard. With the help of the 50th, he arrested 27 of the raiders and recovered at least some of the railway property. Then, instead of sending the 50th back to Nagode, he retained them in Mirzapur.
On the 13th of June, a detachment of the 1st Madras Fusiliers arrived in Mirzapur. Almost immediately the cry went up to disarm the 47th. Colonel Pott baulked and stood his ground. Fortunately, St. George Tucker was of the same opinion. His first thought was to organise some gainful employment for the 47th.
The first operation was carried out together with the Madras Fusiliers and entailed the destruction of the village of Guara, some 16 miles west of Mirzapore on the south bank of the Ganges River.

“This was a regular nest of turbulent Rajputs, who had committed a number of river dacoities and terrorized the surrounding country. Finding themselves attacked in front and rear, the inhabitants fled and the ringleaders were captured. The country was then cleared of rebels as far as the foot-hills.”

On the 22nd of June Mr. P. Walker, deputy magistrate, took a force of the Nagode sepoys and a number of sowars and chaprassies, unusually on a night raid. Their objective was to attack a band of marauders at Ramnagar Sikri, 8 miles from Mirzapur. From this base, the band had taken the habit of attacking villages along the right bank of the river, much to the horror of the villagers and the annoyance of Tucker. Using the cover of darkness, Walker successfully attacked the village and routed the marauders.

While the Rajputs on the right bank were subdued by this particularly violent attack, the Rajputs on the left bank of the river continued “contumacious.” Their chief, Adwant Singh, who had taken the title of Raja of Bhudoi (one of the relatives of the descendent of the Raja of Benares), took advantage of the disorder to proclaim himself Raja Bhadhoi. He wasted no time in imposing taxes and appointing agents to collect them while supplementing his growing income by plundering his neighbours. With a force of his clansmen, he soon was strong enough to close off the Grand Trunk Road.
A force under Lieutenant Palliser was called upon from his duties in the countryside of Benares and with European levy under Mr. Chapman, a planter from Benares District was sent to suppress the ambitions of the erstwhile Raja. Shortly after their arrival at Gopiganj, an agent of the Raja of Benares in Bhadhoi, Munshi Durshan Lal, succeeded in capturing Adwant Singh and his administrators, promptly delivering them up to Palliser. The raja and his men were tried in open court and sentenced to death by hanging.
However, it was Mr. Moore’s head that Adwant Singh’s widow wanted. As Joint Magistrate and Deputy Collector of Mirzapur, in charge of the northern portion of the Gopiganj and of the estates of the Raja of Benares, the widow surmised Moore was responsible for her husband’s death.
The widow put a price on Moore’s head – 300 rupees – and his effigy was brought to trial before a panchayat (originally a village council of 5 respected elders chosen and accepted by the local community – it is one of the oldest systems of local government in India and still exists, albeit in a different form today) and condemned to death. Measures were then set in place to apprehend Moore and execute the sentence.
On the 4th of July, Mr. Moore made a raid from Gopiganj to arrest a number of the raja’s followers – he took them as prisoners to the indigo factory at Pali and from there, informed Mr. Tucker of his actions.

Soon after this, a party of the 47th went out under Mr. Tucker, the District Magistrate, to rescue Mr. Moore, the agent o f the Raja of Benares, who had been captured by some rebels while defending the factory of Pali…” Tucker would arrive on the 5th of July.

An indigo factory in Tirhut, lower Bengal, 1869

And unfortunately for Moore, all help would be too late.
Beset in the factory by Jhurai Singh- a relative of the belated Raja – and his clansmen, Mr. Moore put up a vigorous defence. Dramatically outnumbered, with only 2 factory managers for support and some of their men, Moore held his ground for some hours. Believing a counterattack would be more effective than a drawn-out defence, Moore, the managers and a few men sallied out to meet Jhurai Singh in the open. Moore was wrong.
A desperate fight led to a short chase and Moore, along with Edmund Short Jones and Clinton Melville Kemp, was captured in a riverbed and put to death. Moore’s head was severed from his body and carried off in triumph to the widow who paid the promised reward. The bodies were left where they lay.
The same day, just a few hours later, men of the 64th (2nd Staffordshire) Regiment of Foot (called the 64th Queens in mutiny literature) led by Lieutenant Woodhouse who had been hurried out to assist Moore, arrived at Pali, expecting a fight, but the rebels had already left. All they succeeded in doing was recovering the bodies. The next day St. George Tucker and Mr. Chapman with a troop of the 47th arrived at Gopiganj with the intention of securing Jhurai Singh. With the 64th they gave good chase but Moore’s murderers escaped.

Memorial to William Richard Moore in All Soul’s Langham Place, London.
Memorial to Mr. Moore at Holy Cross, Sarratt. Picture kindly provided by Sonya Olley, https://hcsp.net/

The distraught parents of William Moore erected a truly touching memorial to their 25- year-old son. He had been in India for 5 years and had shown remarkable promise as a civil administrator. Another 2 memorials would be erected for William Moore – one in a church at Sarrat “Holy Cross” in Hertfordshire and another at Mirzapur, where his headless corpse found its final resting place. As the son of Major John Arthur Moore who also happened to be an EICo director, William received a grand commemoration.
At St. John’s Church, Mirzapur:
“This tablet is erected to the memory of William Richard Moore, of the Bengal Civil Service, Joint Magistrate and Deputy Collector of Mirzapur, whose mortal remains rest in the burial-ground of this station He was the second son of Major J. A. Moore and Sophia Stewart, his wife, and was among the early victims of the fearful mutiny which desolated India in 1857, having been barbarously and treacherously murdered while in the energetic performance of his duty on the 4th July in that year. The remembrance of his high qualities as a public servant, of his excellence in all the relations of life, of his unsullied purity and honour as a man, and of his warm and unaffected piety as a Christian, furnishes to surviving relatives and friends consolation under a loss of which, alas! it also tells the greatness. He was born on the 28th October 1832, and died on the 4th July 1857, in the 25th year of his age.”

His companions, 27-year-old Edmund Short Jones and assistant manager and the 15-year-old Clinton Melville Kemp would be buried at Gopiganj under two tombs. These used to stand in a small enclosure near the junction of the Gopiganj-Mirzapur and Grand Trunk Roads, with simple inscriptions to commemorate them. Although I have not travelled to this region to any great extent, it is more than likely these graves have been lost to time and neglect.
“In memory of Edmund Short Jones, killed at Pallee, July 4th, 1857” and “In memory of Clinton Melville Kemp, killed at Pallee, July 4th 1857.”

There is no further information about Kemp and Jones. A man and a boy, managers of an indigo factory in a lost town in India with no one to mourn them, in two forgotten graves on the side of a road.
It was shortly after Moore’s death that Sherer and the others arrived in Mirzapur. F.O. Mayne dispatched the fugitives with St. George Tucker and hurried back to Rewa, from whence he intended to return to Banda.
To reach Mirzapur, Sherer had traversed nearly 300 miles since setting off from Fatehpur in early June. This part of his journey, to report to his Commissioner at Allahabad, was nearly over. The ladies were moved out of Mirzapur with all haste, packed off to Calcutta, others of Sherer’s party had no inclination to push on to Allahabad; he was now left with but few companions, among them Mr. Macnaghten who never left a memoir as to how he followed Sherer around the countryside and Mr. Bews of the East India Railway.
They had intended to go to Allahabad by boat. The 64th Queens had a boat and the men assumed Major Stirling would not mind taking them along. They were mistaken.
The boat was uncomfortably crowded as it was and Stirling sternly, but courteously informed Sherer that as she had knocked a hole in her hull which was barely patched up, the additional weight of Sherer and his companions was undesirable. Macnaghten, probably fed up with horses and coaches, refused to disembark. Sherer and Bews, employing the argument that “if the boat was so slow, the object of our going in it was in a measure removed, ..” Disgruntled, Macnaghten agreed.
In the evening, the three men, back on their horses, proceeded from St. George Tucker’s house to the ferry, and, crossing the river, struck out on the main road from Benares. At 11pm they found themselves at a dak bungalow, intending to take at least a little rest.

Dak Bungalows – the Rest Houses of the British

A Dak Bungalow

Dak bungalows were government buildings set up as free accommodation for government officials along the postal “dak” routes of British India. Other travellers could request permission to stay at the bungalow, for a fee.
They served essentially as rest houses, providing basic accommodation even in the most far-flung corners of India. In remote areas, dak bungalows served as impromptu headquarters for travelling district officials and during the mutiny, were often used by British civilians and soldiers as they fled. Unfortunately, more than one massacre occurred at dak bungalows outside Delhi.
Rudyard Kipling had a rather bleak view of dak bungalows and they feature widely in his stories -“a fair proportion of the tragedy of our lives out here acted itself in dâk-bungalows…””…nothing is too wild, grotesque, or horrible to happen in a dâk-bungalow.”
The bungalows also served as a staging point to exchange tired horses for fresh ones; dhoolie bearers too would wait at bungalows to pick up their load. The house itself would have a dakwallah (postman), a durwan (caretaker) and in some cases a khansama, or attendant. Beds were generally not provided as it was common at the time to carry your own bedding with you. Guests had to pick up the tab for firewood, grass for their horses, food and for any damages they happened to cause.
Food was basic and usually restricted to the sudden death of a scrawny chicken caught fresh in the bungalow garden – a whole swath of recipes exists to honour dak bungalow chicken curry! https://thebruisedfrypan.wordpress.com/2021/01/07/chicken-dak-bungalow-from-the-erstwhile-british-raj-in-india/ (This is just one of many such recipes – having stayed in dak bungalows as a child while travelling Bangladesh and in India with my parents, it strikes me as being one of the most authentic).
The bungalows continued to thrive well into the 20th century, but many have since fallen into disuse and have disappeared, along with their histories of the myriad of travellers who stayed within their walls, on their endless journeys so far from home.
Sherer’s stay at the dak bungalow on the way to Allahabad was somewhat different.

The Last Road
What Sherer, Bews and Macnaghten found at the dak bungalow, was far from usual. English soldiers on their way through the country had got there first. The house was full and the garden taken over by tents. On the verandah, a few officers were still sitting, smoking. Amused by the sight of a “small party of their countrymen riding about at night” the officers took it on themselves to act as hosts, giving them food from their own mess. With no beds available, Sherer and his companions laid themselves down under the garden’s neem trees – “I fastened my bridle to my arm, and knowing that my horse, being an Arab, would avoid trampling on me, or hurting me, I slept myself; but, of course, under my existing responsibility, the sleep was for little scraps of five or ten minutes only, causing me to start each time to wonder why on earth I should be in bed on the ground, and have a horse tied to me!”
At 2 in the morning, Sherer ruthlessly shook his companions awake and they rode off into the still night. They passed by a tree on which were hanging two men – “and in the dim light they looked ghastly enough; but I believe they had paid a just penalty, being
two of the Zemindars who had betrayed and murdered young Moore in their village a few days before..”
It would not be the first hanging Sherer would see but in the future, he would be less swift to justify them.
As they rode on, the signs of the army of retribution, of the British army’s rampage through the countryside became more evident but he was still quick to dismiss it.

“In the strips of village streets adjoining the highway the shops were latticed up with bamboo hurdles; other dwellings showed traces of having been fired, and there were very few people in sight anywhere. Some unnecessary violence had, perhaps, been shown by those passing upwards…”
By sunset, they had arrived at the ferry opposite Daraganj at Allahabad. The river had risen with the start of the rains and they had some trouble convincing the ferrymen to take them across but with some persuasion, the ferry was requisitioned and Sherer finally arrived in Allahabad.
Anxious as they had been all along to make themselves useful to the Commissioner, two days later Chester sent Sherer, Macnaghten and Bews, not to district duties or to work in Allahabad – instead he sent them away with General Havelock’s Force. It was the 7th of July and Sherer would find himself on the way back to Fatehpur, albeit this time, as a soldier. He would have to spend a considerably longer time sleeping under trees.

In a letter dated the 24th of June St. George Tucker wrote to Colonel Pott:

‘ I am anxious to express my thanks to you and to the officers of the 47th present with the regiment, for the security of life and property which have been uninterruptedly preserved in the city by the presence of your regiment, and for the assistance you have afforded me in putting down dacoity and violence on both the northern and southern sides of the river.
‘ Should you think proper, I hope you will express to the sepoys of your regiment the pleasure which I feel in bringing to the notice.”

In the orders in 1858 the following awards were announced “for loyal, faithful and valuable services “ to the following men:
Subadar Major Oomar Khan, O.B.I.: To be Sardar Bahadur and promoted from 2nd to 1st Glass, Order of British India.
Havildar Fakira Ram: To be Subadar Major and Sardar Bahadur, and awarded the Order of British India, 1st Class. (G.G.O. 842/61 of 1858.)
Havildars Ram Jiawan Singh and Bhinik Singh: To be Subadar and Sardar Bahadur, and awarded the Order of British India, 1st Class.
Sepoys Shiunath Upadhya and Janki Upadhya: To be Havildars and to receive the Order of Merit ‘ in consideration of their conspicuous loyalty in aiding, saving and protecting a party of European fugitives from Sultanpore ’. (G.G.O. 486 of 1858.)

In 1864, the Indian Mutiny medal roll would be prepared for a further 80 men, who were still serving with the regiment.

Lieutenant Walcot was raised to Brevet-Captain but Colonel Pott would have to wait for his C.B. for some years – General Neill was not a man who forgave differences quickly, especially when Colonel Pott had ultimately been right. Even though Neill would die in 1857, his word against Potts’ lived a little longer.

Kaye’s and Malleson’s History of the Indian Mutiny, Vol VI– Sir John William Kaye and Colonel G.B. Malleson, 1889
A History of the Indian Mutiny – T.Rice Holmes, 1904
Daily Life During the Mutiny – J.W. Sherer, C.S.I., 1910
List of Inscriptions on Christian Tombs and Tablets of Historical Interest in the United Provinces of Agra and Oudh – E.A.H. Blunt, I.C.S., 1911
Mirzapur, A Gazetteer Vol. XXVII of the District Gazetteers of the United Provinces of Agra and Oudh – compiled and edited by D.L.Brockman, I.C.S., 1911
The History of the 3rd Battalion 7th Rajput Regiment (Duke of Connaught’s Own) – H.G.Rawlinson, 1941
The Raj on the Move, Story of the Dak Bungalow – Rajika Bhandari, 2012