Poems: New and Old (Newbolt)/A Ballad of John Nicholson
A Ballad of John Nicholson
It fell in the year of Mutiny,At darkest of the night,John Nicholson by Jalándhar came,On his way to Delhi fight.
And as he by Jalándhar cameHe thought what he must do,And he sent to the Rajah fair greeting,To try if he were true.
"God grant your Highness length of days,And friends when need shall be;And I pray you send your Captains hither,That they may speak with me."
On the morrow through Jalándhar townThe Captains rode in state;They came to the house of John NicholsonAnd stood before the gate.
The chief of them was Mehtab Singh,He was both proud and sly;His turban gleamed with rubies red,He held his chin full high.
He marked his fellows how they putTheir shoes from off their feet;"Now wherefore make ye such adoThese fallen lords to greet?
"They have ruled us for a hundred years,In truth I know not how,But though they be fain of mastery,They dare not claim it now."
Right haughtily before them allThe durbar hall he trod,With rubies red his turban gleamed,His feet with pride were shod.
They had not been an hour together,A scanty hour or so,When Mehtab Singh rose in his placeAnd turned about to go.
Then swiftly came John NicholsonBetween the door and him,With anger smouldering in his eyesThat made the rubies dim.
"You are overhasty, Mehtab Singh,"—Oh, but his voice was low!He held his wrath with a curb of iron,That furrowed cheek and brow.
"You are overhasty, Mehtab Singh,When that the rest are gone,I have a word that may not waitTo speak with you alone."
The Captains passed in silence forthAnd stood the door behind;To go before the game was playedBe sure they had no mind.
But there within John NicholsonTurned him on Mehtab Singh,"So long as the soul is in my bodyYou shall not do this thing.
"Have ye served us for a hundred yearsAnd yet ye know not why?We brook no doubt of our mastery,We rule until we die.
"Were I the one last EnglishmanDrawing the breath of life,And you the master-rebel of allThat stir this land to strife—
"Were I," he said, "but a Corporal,And you a Rajput King,So long as the soul was in my bodyYou should not do this thing.
"Take off, take off those shoes of pride,Carry them whence they came;Your Captains saw your insolenceAnd they shall see your shame."
When Mehtab Singh came to the doorHis shoes they burned his hand,For there in long and silent linesHe saw the Captains stand.
When Mehtab Singh rode from the gateHis chin was on his breast:The Captains said, "When the strong commandObedience is best."