1857
Death of General Havelock--Appeals from Cawnpore
--General Windham--The passage of the Ganges
The Relief of the Lucknow garrison was now accomplished--a grand
achievement indeed, of which any Commander might well be proud,
carried out as it had been in every particular as originally planned,
thus demonstrating with what care each detail had been thought out,
and how admirably movement after movement had been executed.
November the 23rd was spent in arranging for the march to Cawnpore,
and in organizing the division which was to be left in position, under
Outram, in and about the Alambagh; it was to be strong enough to hold
its own, and to keep open communication with Head-Quarters.
[Illustration: PLAN TO ILLUSTRATE THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW, IN 1857]
My time was chiefly occupied in assisting in the distribution of
transport, and in carrying out Hope Grant's directions as to the order
in which the troops were to march. Round the Dilkusha the scene of
confusion was bewildering in the extreme; women, children, sick
and wounded men, elephants, camels, bullocks and bullock-carts,
grass-cutters' ponies, and doolies with their innumerable bearers, all
crowded together. To marshal these incongruous elements and get them
started seemed at first to be an almost hopeless task. At last the
families were got off in two bodies, each under a married officer
whose wife was of the party, and through whom all possible
arrangements for their comfort were to be made, and their place on the
line of march, position in camp, etc., determined.
In the afternoon the force was gratified by the issue of a General
Order by the Commander-in-Chief thanking the troops for the manner in
which the very difficult and harassing service of the Relief had been
performed. Alluding to the withdrawal, he said it was a model of
discipline and exactitude, the result of which was that the rebels
were completely thrown off their guard, and the retirement had been
successfully carried out in the face of 50,000 of the enemy along a
most inconveniently narrow and tortuous lane--the only line of retreat
open.
The following morning Hope Grant's division marched to the Alambagh.
On arrival there, our transport was sent back for Outram's division,
which joined us the morning after, bringing with it General Havelock's
dead body. He had died the previous day--'a martyr to duty,' as the
Commander-in-Chief expressed it in his General Order. The brave old
soldier, who had served with distinction in four campaigns before the
Mutiny--Burma, Afghanistan, Gwalior, and the Sutlej--was buried inside
the Alambagh enclosure, respected and honoured by the whole army, but
more especially by those who had shared in his noble efforts to rescue
the Lucknow garrison.
A wash and change of clothes, in which we were now able to indulge,
were much-appreciated luxuries. From the time we had left the Alambagh
every officer and man had been on duty without cessation, and slept,
if they slept at all, on the spot where the close of day found them
fighting.
It was a rough experience, but, notwithstanding the exposure, hard
work, and a minimum of sleep, there was no great sickness amongst the
troops. The personal interest which every man in the force felt in
the rescue of his countrymen and countrywomen, in addition to the
excitement at all times inseparable from war, was a stimulant
which enabled all ranks to bear up in a marvellous manner against
long-continued privations and hardships--for body and mind are equally
affected by will--and there was no doubt about the will in this
instance to endure anything that was necessary for the speedy
achievement of the object in view. Personally, I was in the best
of health, and though I almost lived on horseback, I never felt
inconvenience or fatigue.
The 25th and 26th were busy days, spent in allotting camp equipage
and making the necessary arrangements for fitting out Outram's
force--4,000 strong, with 25 guns and howitzers and 10 mortars.
At 11 a.m. on the 27th we started on our return march towards
Cawnpore.[1] It was a strange procession. Everything in the shape of
wheeled carriage and laden animals had to keep to the road, which was
narrow, and for the greater part of the way raised, for the country
at that time of the year was partly under water, and _jhils_ were
numerous. Thus, the column was about twelve miles in length, so that
the head had almost reached the end of the march before the rear could
start. Delays were constant and unavoidable, and the time each day's
journey occupied, as well as the mode of conveyance--country carts
innocent of springs--must have been most trying to delicate women and
wounded men. Fortunately there was no rain; but the sun was still hot
in the daytime, causing greater sensitiveness to the bitter cold at
night.
My place was with the advance guard, as I had to go on ahead to mark
out the camp and have ramps got ready to enable the carts to be taken
off the raised roads. Soon after leaving the Alambagh we heard the
sound of guns from the direction of Cawnpore, and when we reached
Bani bridge (about thirteen miles on, where a small post had been
established) the officer in command told us that there had been heavy
firing all that day and the day before.
Camp was pitched about two miles further on late in the afternoon; but
my work was not over till midnight, when the rear guard arrived, for
it took all that time to form up the miscellaneous convoy.
Next morning we made an early start, in order to reach our
destination, if possible, before dark. Having received no information
from Cawnpore for more than ten days, the Commander-in-Chief was
beginning to feel extremely anxious, and the firing we had heard the
previous day had greatly increased his uneasiness, for there seemed
little room for doubt that the Gwalior rebels were making an attack on
that place. The probability that this would happen had been foreseen
by Sir Colin, and was one of his reasons for determining to limit the
operations at Lucknow to the withdrawal of the garrison.
We had not proceeded far, when firing was again heard, and by noon
all doubt as to its meaning was ended by a Native who brought a note
marked 'Most urgent,' written in Greek character, and addressed to
'General Sir Colin Campbell, or any officer commanding troops on the
Lucknow road.' This turned out to be a communication from General
Windham, who had been placed in command at Cawnpore when the
Commander-in-Chief left for Lucknow on the 9th of November. It was
dated two days earlier, and told of an attack having been made, that
there had been hard fighting, and that the troops were sorely pressed;
in conclusion Windham earnestly besought the Chief to come to his
assistance with the least possible delay.
Two other letters followed in quick succession, the last containing
the disappointing and disheartening intelligence that Windham, with
the greater part of his troops, had been driven into the entrenchment,
plainly showing that the city and cantonment were in the possession
of the enemy, and suggesting the possibility of the bridge of boats
having been destroyed.
Sir Colin, becoming impatient to learn the exact state of the case,
desired me to ride on as fast as I could to the river; and if I
found the bridge broken, to return at once, but if it were still in
existence to cross over, try and see the General, and bring back all
the information I could obtain.
I took a couple of sowars with me, and on reaching the river I found,
under cover of a hastily-constructed _tête-de-pont_, a guard of
British soldiers, under Lieutenant Budgen, of the 82nd Foot, whose
delight at seeing me was most effusively expressed. He informed me
that the bridge was still intact, but that it was unlikely it would
long remain so, for Windham was surrounded except on the river side,
and the garrison was 'at its last gasp.'
I pushed across and got into the entrenchment, which was situated on
the river immediately below the bridge of boats. The confusion inside
was great, and I could hardly force my way through the mass of men who
thronged round my horse, eager to learn when help might be expected;
they were evidently demoralized by the ill-success which had attended
the previous days' operations, and it was not until I reassured them
with the news that the Commander-in-Chief was close at hand that
I managed to get through the crowd and deliver my message to the
General.
The 'hero of the Redan,' whom I now saw for the first time, though the
fame of his achievement had preceded him to India, was a handsome,
cheery-looking man of about forty-eight years of age, who appeared, in
contrast to the excited multitude I had passed, thoroughly calm and
collected; and notwithstanding the bitter disappointment it must have
been to him to be obliged to give up the city and retire with his
wholly inadequate force into the entrenchment, he was not dispirited,
and had all his wits about him. In a few words he told me what had
happened, and desired me to explain to the Commander-in-Chief that,
although the city and cantonment had to be abandoned, he was still
holding the enemy in check round the assembly-rooms (which were
situated outside and to the west front of the entrenchment), thus
preventing their approaching the bridge of boats near enough to injure
it.
I was about to start back to Head-Quarters, when suddenly loud cheers
broke from the men, caused by the appearance in their midst of the
Commander-in-Chief himself. After I had left him, Sir Colin became
every minute more impatient and fidgety, and ere long started off
after me, accompanied by Mansfield and some other staff officers. He
was recognized by the soldiers, some of whom had known him in
the Crimea, and they at once surrounded him, giving enthusiastic
expression to their joy at seeing him again.
The Chief could now judge for himself as to how matters stood, so, as
there was plenty of work in camp for me, I started back to rejoin my
own General. On my way I stopped to speak to Budgen, whom I found in
a most dejected frame of mind. Unfortunately for him, he had used
exactly the same words in describing the situation at Cawnpore to Sir
Colin as he had to me, which roused the old Chief's indignation, and
he flew at the wretched man as he was sometimes apt to do when greatly
put out, rating him soundly, and asking him how he dared to say of Her
Majesty's troops that they were 'at their last gasp.'
I found Hope Grant about four miles from the river bank, where the
camp was being pitched. Sir Colin did not return till after dark, when
we were told that the rest of Windham's troops had been driven inside
the entrenchment, which only confirmed what we had suspected, for
flames were seen mounting high into the air from the direction of the
assembly-rooms, which, it now turned out, had been set on fire by the
enemy--an unfortunate occurrence, as in them had been stored the camp
equipage, kits, clothing, etc., belonging to most of the regiments
which had crossed the Ganges into Oudh. But what was more serious
still was the fact that the road was now open for the rebels' heavy
guns, which might be brought to bear upon the bridge of boats at any
moment.
Owing to the length of the march (thirty-two or thirty-three miles),
some of the carts and the heavy guns did not arrive till daybreak.
Scarcely had the bullocks been unyoked, before the guns were ordered
on to the river bank, where they formed up, and so effectually plied
the enemy with shot and shell that the passage of the river was
rendered comparatively safe for our troops.
When the men had breakfasted, the order was given to cross over. Sir
Colin accompanied the column as far as the bridge, and then directed
Hope Grant, with the Horse Artillery and most of the Cavalry,
Bourchier's battery and Adrian Hope's brigade, to move to the
south-east of the city and take up a position on the open ground which
stretched from the river to the Grand Trunk Road, with the canal
between us and the enemy. By this arrangement communication with
Allahabad, which had been temporarily interrupted, was restored,
a very necessary measure, for until the road was made safe,
reinforcements, which on account of the paucity of transport had to
be sent up in small detachments, could not reach us, nor could the
families and sick soldiers be sent down country.
The passage of the huge convoy over the bridge of boats, under the
protection of Greathed's brigade, was a most tedious business,
occupying thirty hours, from 3 p.m. on the 29th till about 9 p.m. on
the 30th, when Inglis brought over the rear guard. During its transit
the enemy fired occasionally on the bridge, and tried to destroy it by
floating fire-rafts down the river; fortunately they did not succeed,
and the convoy arrived without accident on the ground set apart for it
in the rear of our camp.
For the three first days of December I was chiefly employed in
reconnoitring with the Native Cavalry the country to our left and
rear, to make sure that the rebels had no intention of attempting to
get round that flank, and in making arrangements for the despatch of
the families, the sick, and the wounded, to Allahabad _en route_ to
Calcutta. We improvised covers for some of the carts, in which we
placed the women and children and the worst cases amongst the men; but
with all our efforts to render them less unfit for the purpose, these
carts remained but rough and painful conveyances for delicate women
and suffering men to travel in.
We were not left altogether unmolested by the enemy during these days.
Round shot kept continually falling in our midst, particularly in the
neighbourhood of the Commander-in-Chief's tent, the exact position of
which must have somehow been made known to the rebels, otherwise they
could not have distinguished it from the rest of the camp, as it
was an unpretentious hill tent, such as was then used by subaltern
officers.
Until the women left camp on the night of the 3rd December, we were
obliged to act on the defensive, and were not able to stop the enemy's
fire completely, though we managed to keep it under control by
occupying the point called Generalganj, and strengthening the piquets
on our right and left flank. On the 4th a second unsuccessful attempt
was made to destroy the bridge of boats by means of fire-rafts, and on
the 5th there were several affairs at the outposts, all of which ended
in the discomfiture of the rebels without any great loss to ourselves;
Lieutenant-Colonel Ewart of the 93rd Highlanders, who lost his arm on
the 1st, and Captain Crutchley of the same regiment, who was severely
wounded, being the only casualties amongst the officers.
[Footnote 1: Our force consisted of the troops which Sir Colin had
reviewed on the Alambagh plain on the 11th instant, with the exception
of the 75th Foot, which was transferred to Outram's division. We had,
however, in their place, the survivors of the 32nd Foot, and of the
Native regiments who had behaved so loyally during the siege. These
latter were formed into one battalion, called the Regiment of
Lucknow--the present 16th Bengal Infantry. The 32nd Foot, which was
not up to full strength (1,067) when the Mutiny broke out, had in
1857-58 no less than 610 men killed and wounded, exclusive of 169
who died from disease. We had also with us, and to them was given an
honoured place, 'the remnant of the few faithful pensioners who had
alone, of many thousands in Oudh, responded to the call of Sir Henry
Lawrence to come in to aid the cause of those whose salt they had
eaten.'--Lecture on the Relief of Lucknow, by Colonel H.W. Norman.]
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