The 1857 Siege of Delhi is interesting in that it serves as both a pivotal battle and a pivotal marker in world history. Or at least it seems that way to me. As a phase of the 1857-1859 Indian Rebellion, it was a decisive British victory that did much to stifle the rebellion’s national ambitions, even though the fighting continued for many months afterward. It also, and here’s the world history part, marked the formal end of the Mughal Dynasty, and when you’re talking about the last hurrah of a dynasty that ruled most of modern India and Pakistan for more than three centuries, that’s the kind of thing I consider to be pivotal. There is a counter-argument to this, though, and it’s related to the fact that I have sitting on my bookshelf right now a book, The Mughal Empire by John F. Richards, that pretty much ends in the 1720s, at the beginning of the reign of the Mughal Emperor Muhammad Shah (d. 1748).
Why would a history of the Mughals end in the 1720s, when the Mughal dynasty stayed on the throne well into the 1850s? Because from the early 18th century on the Mughals soon stopped actually ruling much of anything anymore. Aurangzeb (d. 1707), the last effective Mughal emperor, instituted a repressive Islamic governance that upended the dynasty’s previous tolerance for other faiths (i.e., for Hinduism) and thereby completely undermined the foundations of Mughal rule over their majority Hindu subjects–though Aurangzeb himself died before he got to witness the fallout. After his death Hindu principalities quickly began to assert their independence in central and southern India, and Nadir Shah’s 1739 Sack of Delhi made it clear that Mughal power was on the wane. By the end of the 18th century the Mughals were under the “protection” of the Hindu Maratha Empire, based in the Deccan. It was the Marathas, not the Mughals, who resisted the expansion of British control over the subcontinent, and when Maratha power was finally smashed in the Third Anglo-Maratha War (1816-1819) the Mughals came under British East India Company “protection” instead.
In that sense, then, the 1857 end of the Mughal dynasty may be one of the great historical examples of an anticlimax. For all practical purposes, the Mughal dynasty had gone defunct more than a century earlier. Still, I think the actual end of the dynasty is historically noteworthy.
Nominally, the 1857 sepoy (sepoy means “soldier” and derives from the Persian word sepahi, but in this case it specifically means local soldiers recruited to fight for the British East India Company) mutiny that snowballed into a full-on Indian rebellion against British rule had as its aim the restoration of Mughal authority. But I have a hard time believing that the rebels who stood against Britain were really fighting for the Mughals. Rather, I imagine that “restoring the Mughals” was cover for “kick the British out” and was meant to serve as a rallying cry more than a concrete goal. I say this because none of the people who fought in the rebellion–hell, none of the people who were alive when it began–had been alive the last time the Mughal dynasty actually mattered in any practical sense. But hey, whatever gets people out of bed, I guess.
The immediate cause of the revolt was much more mundane than restoring the grand old Mughal Empire–it was about guns and ammo. Specifically, it was about the introduction of the Enfield P-53 rifled musket, whose cartridges were allegedly greased, in part, with beef and pork fat. Since the procedure for loading the rifle called on the soldier to rip the cartridge open with his teeth, meaning he’d inevitably ingest a little of the grease, both Hindus and Muslims in the sepoy ranks had religious reasons to object. Grumbling over this fear in late 1856 reached a level such that the East India Company announced that it would issue new ungreased cartridges that could be opened by hand rather than with the teeth. Unfortunately all this announcement really did was convince the sepoys that they cartridges they’d already been issued were, in fact, covered in beef and pork fat. The sepoys simply refused to use any new cartridges while their EIC superiors insisted that they would use them, and after a handful of smaller outbursts, a mutiny near Delhi in May 1857 was the one that caught fire.
Of course, the underlying causes of the revolt went a lot deeper than rifle cartridges, although again I think we’re on safe ground assuming that a Mughal restoration wasn’t really among them. But again, it was a rallying cry for those who rebelled. The landowners who’d lost the most, economically and socially, to the encroaching British-EIC control of the subcontinent were located in the north, where the Mughals had been centered, and it was in the north where the rebellion had its strength, so Mughal prestige had some cache. To the south, which had never really taken to Mughal rule the way the north had, support for the rebellion was relatively weak. This geographic disparity probably played a role in the revolt’s eventual suppression, as a rebellion that had truly encompassed the whole of India would have been difficult for even the British Empire to take down.
Even among the sepoys there were deeper grievances than the nature of their ammo. Most of the local soldiers who’d opted to fight for the British had done so because they pay was decent and because the East India Company made a few promises as to how they would be treated. But as the British pacified more and more of India, there were less and less chances for sepoys to earn hazard pay, and in 1856 the EIC changed the terms of enlistment to make the sepoys eligible for service overseas. Many sepoys had only enlisted in the first place under the EIC’s promise that they would never be sent overseas, and though the policy change was only meant to apply to new enlistees, the current sepoys feared that it would eventually be applied to them retroactively.
The action at Delhi happened fairly soon after the rebellion began, mostly because the sepoy mutineers, over 2000 of them, had been based only about 40 miles away and immediately, upon mutinying, marched there to take an audience with the current, and ultimately final, Mughal Emperor, Bahadur Shah Zafar (d. 1862). The sepoys stormed the palace and Zafar, voluntarily or not (it seems probable that he was coerced to some degree, but it’s impossible to know just how much), assented to the rebellion and became its nominal leader. He started minting coins, taking oaths of allegiance from nobles and soldiers, and generally doing the things that a real emperor, as opposed to an emperor on paper, does. And here’s where the rallying cry paid off–what had begun as an isolated mutiny of one unit of sepoys against the perceived abuses of the East India Company now became, by virtue of the Mughal emperor’s imprimatur, a full-scale rebellion against the very idea of British control over India. Fighters streamed into Delhi to join the cause.
The EIC began besieging Delhi in early June, 1857, but it was a piecemeal affair due to their manpower shortage. As other parts of the country were brought back under control, more EIC forces were shifted to Delhi to participate in the siege, but it wasn’t until August when men began arriving in sufficient numbers to threaten the city, and not until early September that enough British artillery was finally brought to the party. The British had about 12,000 soldiers and 100 guns to the rebels’ ~40,000 men and ~100 guns, but that manpower advantage dwindled as fighters began to slip out of the city when conditions worsened and the rebel leaders seemed unable to cope. Also, as the siege moved into mid-September it seems that the rebels began to run out of things to shoot from their guns, and in the artillery battles that attended the final British assaults on the city, the British had the clear advantage.
British forces punched through the walls and into the city on September 14, but in the street-to-street fighting that followed, they were slowed down by heavy casualties and, hilariously, by rampant drunkenness courtesy of the liquor stores they’d seized. But the rebels, who’d been defending the city since June, were running out of food. Hangovers wear off. Hunger, unless you get ahold of some food, doesn’t. By September 21, the surviving rebels having taken flight (including Bakht Khan, the sepoy who became Bahadur Shah’s top general and would continue to lead the rebellion after Delhi’s fall) and Bahadur Shah Zafar having fled the palace, the city was deemed taken. Thousands were killed in total, and while far more rebels and civilians were killed than British forces, there’s no good count of the total number of dead. British soldiers sacked the city and, enraged by an Indian massacre of British women, children, and wounded at Cawnpore (Kanpur) in June, summarily executed hundreds of people after the city fell, increasing the death toll considerably. The fighting continued through the middle of 1859, but with the loss of Delhi and of the unifying symbol of the Mughal emperor the rebels lost whatever chance they’d had of turning their revolt into a pan-Indian war of independence.
But we’re getting away from our original point, the end of the Mughal dynasty. By the time the city was fully pacified, Bahadur Shah had already been captured mid-flight. He and his sons had holed up at the tomb of the second Mughal Emperor, Humayun, a short ways south of Delhi. British forces caught them there, killed the emperor’s sons, and carted the emperor himself back to Delhi. He was tried for…well, I don’t know, insurrection or something, the exact charges were irrelevant. Convicted, naturally, he was exiled from India and spent the rest of his life in another British colony, Burma. With no male heirs and no empire left to rule, the Mughal house, once arguably the wealthiest and most powerful ruling house in the Islamic–heck, maybe the entire–world, descended from the two great Central Asian conquerors, Genghis Khan and Timur, died with him.