1858
Mianganj--Curious effect of a mirage--The Dilkusha revisited
--Passage of the Gumti--Capture of the Chakar Kothi
--Capture of the iron bridge--Hodson mortally wounded
--Outram's soldierly instinct--A lost opportunity--Sam Browne
--Start for England--Death of Sir William Peel
Our prolonged stay at Fatehgarh was not altogether without advantage.
Such a large force being concentrated in the neighbourhood secured the
safety of the Doab for the time being, and as Fatehgarh was equally
conveniently situated for an advance, either into Rohilkand or upon
Lucknow, the rebels were kept in a state of uncertainty as to the
direction of our next move.
At length it was decided that Lucknow was to be our first objective,
and Sir Colin at once communicated with Outram and Napier as to the
best means of conducting the siege. Then, leaving Hope Grant to take
the division across the Ganges, the Chief went to Allahabad, the
temporary Head-Quarters of the supreme Government, to discuss the
situation with the Governor-General.
We marched through Cawnpore, and on the 8th February reached Unao,
where we found encamped the 7th Hussars, a troop of Royal Horse
Artillery, the 38th Foot and the 79th Highlanders.
Sir Colin on his return from Allahabad on the 10th issued a General
Order detailing the regiments, staff, and Commanders who were to take
part in the 'Siege of Lucknow.'[1] Hope Grant, who had been made
a Major-General for the 'Relief of Lucknow,' was appointed to the
command of the Cavalry division, and I remained with him as D.A.Q.M.G.
Rumours had been flying about that the Nana was somewhere in the
neighbourhood, but 'Wolf!' had been cried so often with regard to him,
that but little notice was taken of the reports, until my faithful
spy, Unjur Tiwari, brought me intelligence that the miscreant really
was hiding in a small fort about twenty-five miles from our camp. Hope
Grant started off at once, taking with him a compact little force, and
reached the fort early next morning (17th February), just too late
to catch the Nana, who, we were told, had fled precipitately before
daybreak. We blew up the fort, and for the next few days moved by
short marches towards Lucknow, clearing the country as we went of
rebels, small parties of whom we frequently encountered. On the 23rd
we reached Mianganj, a small fortified town on the old Cawnpore and
Lucknow road, where some 2,000 of the enemy had ensconced themselves.
Our advance guard having been fired upon as we approached, the
column was halted and the baggage placed in safety, while Hope
Grant reconnoitred the position in order to see where it could most
advantageously be attacked. We found the town enclosed by a high
loop-holed wall with circular bastions at the four corners and at
regular intervals along the sides, the whole being surrounded by a wet
ditch, while the gateways had been strengthened by palisades. Large
bodies of the enemy's Cavalry hovered about our reconnoitring party,
only to retire as we advanced, apparently not liking the look of the
7th Hussars and 9th Lancers, who formed the General's escort.
After a careful inspection, Hope Grant decided to breach the
north-west angle of the wall, as from a wood near the Infantry could
keep down the fire of the enemy's sharpshooters, and the heavy guns
would be in a measure protected while the walls were being bombarded.
A sufficiently good breach was made in about two hours, and the 53rd
Regiment, having been selected for the honour of leading the assault,
was told to hold itself in readiness. Hope Grant then spoke a few
words of encouragement to the men, and their Colonel (English) replied
on their behalf that they might be depended upon to do their duty. The
signal was given; the Horse Artillery, under Lieutenant-Colonel Frank
Turner, galloped to within grape range of the town, and covered by
their fire the 53rd marched in steadily until they got within 100
yards of the walls, when, with a ringing cheer, they dashed through
the water in the ditch and entered the breach. Hopkins, the plucky
Captain of the light company, was the first inside the walls, followed
closely by Augustus Anson and an adventurous Post-Captain of the Royal
Navy, who, being unemployed, came to see what 'a winter's campaign in
India' was like.[2] There was a good deal of hand-to-hand fighting,
and the enemy lost about 500 men, those who tried to escape being cut
down by the Cavalry outside the walls. We took about the same number
of prisoners, but as none of these were soldiers, and vowed they had
been forced to take up arms against us, the General, as much to their
astonishment as to their delight, ordered them to be set free. Our
losses were small.
Next day we halted while the walls were being destroyed and the
place rendered indefensible. As I was superintending the work of
destruction, the horrors of war were once more brought very forcibly
before me by the appearance of an infirm old man, who besought me to
spare his house, saying: 'Yesterday I was the happy father of five
sons: three of them lie there' (pointing to a group of dead bodies);
'where the other two are, God only knows. I am old and a cripple, and
if my house is burned there is nothing left for me but to die.' Of
course I took care that his house and property were left untouched.
On the 25th February we marched to Mohan, a picturesquely situated
village on the bank of the Sai Naddi, which stream we crossed the next
day and encamped on a fine grassy plain, there to remain until it
should be time to join the army before Lucknow.
While we were halting at this place, Watson and I had rather a curious
adventure. During a morning's ride my greyhound put up a _nilghai_[3]
so close to us that Watson, aiming a blow at him with his sword,
gashed his quarter. Off he started, and we after him at full speed;
the chase continued for some miles without our getting much nearer,
when, all at once, we beheld moving towards us from our right front
a body of the enemy's Cavalry. We were in an awkward position; our
horses were very nearly dead beat, and we could hardly hope to get
away if pursued. We pulled up, turned round, and trotted back, very
quietly at first, that our horses might recover their breath before
the enemy got to closer quarters and we should have to ride for our
lives. Every now and then we looked back to see whether they were
gaining upon us, and at last we distinctly saw them open out and make
as if to charge down upon us. We thought our last hour was come. We
bade each other good-bye, agreeing that each must do his best to
escape, and that neither was to wait for the other, when lo! as
suddenly as they had appeared, the horsemen vanished, as though the
ground had opened and swallowed them; there was nothing to be seen
but the open plain, where a second before there had been a crowd of
mounted men. We could hardly believe our eyes, or comprehend at first
that what we had seen was simply a mirage, but so like reality that
anyone must have been deceived. Our relief, on becoming convinced
that we had been scared by a phantom enemy, was considerable; but
the apparition had the good effect of making us realize the folly
of having allowed ourselves to be tempted so far away from our camp
without escort of any kind in an enemy's country, and we determined
not to risk it again.[4]
While we were occupied in clearing the country to the north of
the Cawnpore-Lucknow road, the main body of the army, with the
siege-train, Engineer park, Naval Brigade,[5] ammunition, and stores
of all kinds, had gradually been collecting at Bhantira, to which
place we were ordered to proceed on the 1st March. We had a
troublesome march across country, and did not reach the Head-Quarters
camp until close on midnight. There was much difficulty in getting the
guns through the muddy nullas and up the steep banks, and but for
the assistance of the elephants the task could hardly have been
accomplished. It was most curious and interesting to see how these
sagacious creatures watched for and seized the moment when their help
was needed to get the guns up the steep inclines; they waited till
the horses dragging the gun could do no more and were coming to a
stand-still, when one of them would place his forehead against the
muzzle and shove until the gun was safely landed on the top of the
bank.
We started early on the morning of the 2nd for Lucknow, Hope Grant
taking command of the Cavalry division for the first time.
On nearing the Alambagh, we bore to our right past the Jalalabad fort,
where Outram's Engineers were busily engaged in constructing fascines
and gabions for the siege, and preparing spars and empty casks for
bridging the Gumti. As we approached the Mahomedbagh we came under the
fire of some of the enemy's guns placed in a grove of trees; but no
sooner had the Artillery of our advance guard opened fire than the
rebels retired, leaving a gun in our hands. We moved on to the
Dilkusha, which we found unoccupied. The park had been greatly
disfigured since our last visit, most of the finest trees having been
cut down.
My General was now placed in charge of the piquets, a position for
which he was admirably fitted and in which he delighted. He rode well,
without fatigue to himself or his horse, so that any duty entailing
long hours in the saddle was particularly congenial to him. I
invariably accompanied him in his rounds, and in after-years I often
felt that I owed Hope Grant a debt of gratitude for the practical
lessons he gave me in outpost duty.
Strong piquets with heavy guns were placed in and around the Dilkusha,
as well as in the Mahomedbagh. The main body of the army was encamped
to the rear of the Dilkusha, its right almost on the Gumti, while its
left stretched for two miles in the direction of the Alambagh. Hope
Grant, wishing to be in a convenient position in case of an attack,
spent the night in the Mahomedbagh piquet, and Anson, the D.A.A.G.,
and I kept him company.
On the 3rd some of the troops left at Bhantira came into camp, and
on the 5th General Franks arrived. His division, together with
the Nepalese Contingent, 9,000 strong, brought the numbers at the
Commander-in-Chief's disposal up to nearly 31,000 men, with 164
guns;[6] not a man too many for the capture of a city twenty miles in
circumference, defended by 120,000 armed men, who for three months and
a half had worked incessantly at strengthening the defences, which
consisted of three lines, extending lengthwise from the Charbagh
bridge to the Gumti, and in depth from the canal to the Kaisarbagh.
In Napier's carefully prepared plan, which Sir Colin decided to adopt,
it was shown that the attack should be made on the east, as that
side offered the smallest front, it afforded ground for planting
our Artillery, which the west side did not, and it was the shortest
approach to the Kaisarbagh, a place to which the rebels attached the
greatest importance; more than all, we knew the east side, and were
little acquainted with the west. Napier further recommended that the
attack should be accompanied by a flank movement on the north, with
the object of taking in reverse the first and second lines of the
enemy's defences.[7] A division was accordingly sent across the
Gumti for this purpose, and the movement, being entirely successful,
materially aided in the capture of the city. The passage of the river
was effected by means of two pontoon bridges made of empty barrels,
and thrown across the stream a little below the Dilkusha. They were
completed by midnight on the 5th March, and before day broke the
troops detailed for this service had crossed over.
Outram, who, since the 'Relief of Lucknow,' had been maintaining his
high reputation by keeping the enemy in check before the Alambagh,
commanded this division, with Hope Grant as his second in command. As
soon as it was light we moved away from the river to be out of reach
of the Martinière guns, and after marching for about two miles we came
in view of the enemy; the Artillery of the advance guard got to within
a thousand yards and opened fire, upon which the rebels broke and
fled. The Bays pursued them for a short distance, but with very little
result, the ground being intersected with nullas, and the enemy
opening upon them with heavy guns, they had to retire precipitately,
with the loss of their Major, Percy Smith, whose body, unhappily, had
to be abandoned.
About noon we encamped close to Chinhut, and Hope Grant took special
care that day to see the piquets were well placed, for the rebels
were in great numbers, and we were surrounded by ravines and wooded
enclosures. It was thought by some that he was unnecessarily anxious
and careful, for he rode several times over the ground; but the next
morning proved how right he was to leave nothing to chance.
While we were at breakfast, information was brought in that the enemy
were advancing in force, and directly afterwards half a dozen round
shot were sent into our camp; the troops fell in, the Infantry moved
out, and Hope Grant took the Horse Artillery and Cavalry to our right
flank, where the mutineers were collected in considerable numbers. In
less than an hour we had driven them off, but we were not allowed to
follow them up, as Outram did not wish to get entangled in the suburbs
until heavy guns had arrived. The piquets were strengthened and pushed
forward, affording another opportunity for a useful lesson in outpost
duty.
All that day and the next I accompanied my General in his
reconnaissance of the enemy's position, as well as of the ground near
the Gumti, in order to determine where the heavy guns could best
be placed, so as effectually to enfilade the enemy's first line of
defences along the bank of the canal. On returning to report progress
to Outram at mid-day on the 8th, we found Sir Colin Campbell and
Mansfield with him, arranging for a joint attack the following day;
after their consultation was over, they all rode with us to see the
site Hope Grant had selected for the battery. It was a slightly
elevated piece of ground about half a mile north of the Kokrel nulla,
fairly concealed by a bend of the river; but before it could be made
use of it was considered necessary to clear the rebels out of the
position they were occupying between the nulla and the iron bridge,
the key to which was the Chakar Kothi, and Outram was directed to
attack this point the next morning.
At 2 a.m. on the 9th the heavy guns, escorted by the 1st Bengal
Fusiliers, were sent forward to within 600 yards of the enemy.
The troops then moved off in two parties, that on the right being
commanded by Hope Grant. We marched along the Fyzabad road, the two
Rifle Brigade battalions leading the way in skirmishing order, with
the Cavalry well away to the right. The rebels retired as we advanced,
and Walpole, commanding one of our brigades, by wheeling to his left
on reaching the opposite bank of the nulla, was enabled to enfilade
their position. The column was then halted, and I was sent to inform
Outram as to our progress.
When I had delivered my message, and was about to return, Outram
desired me to stay with him until the capture of the Chakar Kothi
(which he was just about to attempt) should be accomplished, that I
might then convey to Hope Grant his orders as to what further action
would be required of him; meanwhile Outram sent a messenger to tell
my General what he was about to do, in view of his co-operating on the
right.[8]
The Chakar Kothi was attacked and taken, and the enemy, apparently
having lost heart, fled precipitately. One of the 1st Bengal
Fusiliers' colours was placed on the top of this three-storied
building by Ensign Jervis to show the Commander-in-Chief that it was
in our possession, and that the time had come for him to attack the
first line of the enemy's defences. We then continued our advance to
the river, where the parties united, and I rejoined Hope Grant.
It was now only 2 p.m., and there was plenty of time to place the
heavy guns in position before dark. Major Lothian Nicholson,[9]
Outram's Commanding Engineer, was superintending this operation, when
he thought he perceived that the enemy had abandoned their first line,
but he could not be quite sure. It was most necessary to ascertain for
certain whether this was the case, as the Infantry of Hope's brigade,
which had attacked and driven the rebels out of the Martinière, could
be seen preparing to assault the works at the other side of the river.
A discussion ensued as to how this knowledge could be obtained, and a
young subaltern of the 1st Bengal Fusiliers, named Butler,[10] offered
to swim across the Gumti, and, if he found the enemy had retired,
to communicate the fact to Hope's men. This feat was successfully
accomplished by the plucky young volunteer; he found the enemy had
retired, and, on giving the information to Hope, the brigade advanced,
and before nightfall the whole of the enemy's first line was in our
possession--a success which had been achieved with but slight loss to
us, the chief casualty during the day being William Peel, the gallant
Commander of the Naval Brigade, who had been seriously wounded while
in command of a battery near the Dilkusha.
The next day, the 10th, Outram's camp was moved close up to the Gumti,
and batteries were constructed from which fire could be poured on the
mess-house and the Kaisarbagh. For the protection of these works,
and to prevent an attack in force being made on the main part of the
column, Hope Grant kept moving about with the Horse Artillery and
Cavalry between the river and the Sitapur road, our reconnaissance
extending beyond the old cantonment. We had several little fights,
in one of which a very promising officer named Sandford, who had
succeeded Younghusband in command of the 5th Punjab Cavalry squadron,
was killed.
At daybreak on the morning of the 11th the batteries opened fire on
the enemy's second line of defence; at the same time Outram himself
led a strong body of Infantry along the river with the object of
securing the approaches to the bridges. On reaching the Fyzabad road,
about half a mile from the iron bridge, Outram placed the 1st Bengal
Fusiliers in a mosque, with orders to entrench themselves and hold
the post, while he pushed on to the stone bridge about a mile away.
Outram's advance was covered by Hope Grant's Horse Artillery and
Cavalry, but we had to keep at some distance away to the right, in
order to avoid houses and walled enclosures. Soon after crossing the
Sitapur road we heard guns to our left, and proceeding at a smart
trot, came up with Outram just as he was about to attack a large body
of the rebels, who, finding themselves in an awkward position, with
the river in their rear and their retreat by the iron bridge cut off,
made but a feeble resistance before they broke and fled. Some few
escaped by the stone bridge, but the greater number, including the
whole of the mutinous 15th Irregular Cavalry, made for the old
cantonment. We pursued with our Cavalry, and very few of them got
away. A couple of guns and a quantity of plunder were left behind by
the enemy, who evidently had not expected us and were quite unprepared
for our attack. Outram pushed on to the stone bridge, but finding he
was losing men from the fire poured upon us by the rebels from the
opposite side of the river, he fell back to the mosque where he had
left the Fusiliers.
That afternoon, as there was nothing particular for the Cavalry to do,
the General, Anson, and I rode across the river to see how matters
were progressing on the left of the attack. We reached the
Head-Quarters camp just as Sir Colin was about to receive a visit of
ceremony from the Nepalese General, the famous Jung Bahadur. Our old
Chief, in honour of the occasion, had doffed his usual workman-like
costume, and wore General's full-dress uniform, but he was quite
thrown into the shade by the splendour of the Gurkha Prince, who was
most gorgeously attired, with magnificent jewels in his turban, round
his neck, and on his coat.
I looked at Jung Bahadur with no small interest, for his deeds of
daring had made him conspicuous amongst probably the bravest race of
men in the world, and the fact that a high-born Hindu, such as he was,
should, fifty years ago, have so far risen superior to caste prejudice
as to cross the sea and visit England, proved him to be a man of
unusually strong and independent mind. He was about five feet eight
inches high--tall for a Gurkha--with a well-knit, wiry figure, a
keen, dauntless eye, and a firm, determined mouth--in every respect a
typical, well-bred Nepalese. The interview did not last long, for Sir
Colin disliked ceremonial, and, shortly after the Nepalese Prince had
taken his seat, news was brought in that the assault on the Begum
Kothi had been successfully completed, upon which Sir Colin made the
necessity for attending to business an excuse for taking leave of his
distinguished visitor, and the interview came to an end.
I then obtained leave to go to the scene of the recent fight, and,
galloping across the canal by the bridge near Banks's house, soon
found myself at the Begum Kothi. There I was obliged to dismount, for
even on foot it was a difficult matter to scramble over the breach.
The place was most formidable, and it was a marvel that it had been
taken with comparatively so little loss on our side. The bodies of a
number of Highlanders and Punjabis were lying about, and a good many
wounded men were being attended to, but our casualties were nothing in
proportion to those of the enemy, 600 or 700 of whom were buried
the next day in the ditch they had themselves dug for their own
protection. A very determined stand had been made by the sepoys when
they found there was no chance of getting away. There were many tales
of hair-breadth escapes and desperate struggles, and on all sides I
hoard laments that Hodson should have been one of those dangerously,
if not mortally, wounded in the strife. Hodson had been carried to
Banks's house, and to the inquiry I made on my way back to camp, as to
his condition, the answer was, 'Little, if any, hope.'
A great stride in the advance had been made on this day. Outram
had accomplished all that was expected of him, and he was now
busy constructing additional batteries for the bombardment of the
Kaisarbagh; while Lugard,[11] from his newly-acquired position at the
Begum Kothi, was also able to bring fire to bear upon that doomed
palace.
Hodson died the following day (the 12th). As a soldier, I had a very
great admiration, for him, and, in common with the whole army, I
mourned his early death.[12]
On the 13th Lugard's division was relieved by Franks's, and to Jung
Bahadur and his Gurkhas, only too eager for the fray, was entrusted
the conduct of operations along the line of the canal between Banks's
house and the Charbagh bridge. On our side of the river nothing of
importance occurred.
The capture of the Imambara (a mosque situated between the Begum Kothi
and the Kaisarbagh) was accomplished early next morning. The assault
was led by Brasyer's Sikhs and a detachment of the 10th Foot,
supported by the remainder of that regiment and the 90th Light
Infantry. After a short but very severe struggle, the enemy were
forced to retire, and were so closely pursued that the storming party
suddenly found themselves in a building immediately overlooking the
Kaisarbagh.
It had not been intended to advance that day beyond the Imambara,
but, recognizing the advantage of the position thus gained, and the
demoralized condition of the rebels, Franks wisely determined to
follow up his success. Reinforcements were hurried forward, the troops
holding the Sikandarbagh and the Shah Najaf were ordered to act in
concert, and before nightfall the Kaisarbagh, the mess-house, and the
numerous buildings situated between those places and the Residency,
were in our possession.
By means of the field telegraph, Outram was kept accurately informed
as to the movements of Franks's division, and he could have afforded
it valuable assistance had he been allowed to cross the Gumti with his
three brigades of Infantry. Outram, with his soldierly instinct, felt
that this was the proper course to pursue; but in reply to his request
to be allowed to push over the river by the iron bridge, he received
from the Commander-in-Chief through Mansfield the unaccountably
strange order that he must not attempt it, if it would entail his
losing 'a single man.' Thus a grand opportunity was lost. The bridge,
no doubt, was strongly held, but with the numerous guns which Outram
could have brought to bear upon its defenders its passage could have
been forced without serious loss; the enemy's retreat would have been
cut off, and Franks's victory would have been rendered complete,
which it certainly was not, owing to Outram's hands having been so
effectually tied.
Lucknow was practically in our hands on the evening of the 14th March,
but the rebels escaped with comparatively slight punishment, and the
campaign, which should have then come to an end, was protracted for
nearly a year by the fugitives spreading themselves over Oudh, and
occupying forts and other strong positions, from which they were able
to offer resistance to our troops until towards the end of May, 1859,
thus causing the needless loss of thousands of British soldiers.[13]
Sir Colin saw his mistake when too late. The next day orders were
issued for the Cavalry to follow up the mutineers, who were understood
to have fled in a northerly direction. One brigade under Campbell (the
Colonel of the Bays) was directed to proceed to Sandila, and another,
under Hope Grant, towards Sitapur. But the enemy was not seen by
either. As usual, they had scattered themselves over the country and
entirely disappeared, and many of the rebels who still remained in the
city seized the opportunity of the Cavalry being absent to get away.
Outram's command on the left bank of the Gumti was now broken up, with
the view to his completing the occupation of the city. Accordingly, on
the 16th, he advanced from the Kaisarbagh with Douglas's brigade[14]
and Middleton's battery, supported by the 20th Foot and Brasyer's
Sikhs, and occupied in quick succession, and with but slight
resistance, the Residency, the Machi Bhawan, and the great Imambara,
thus taking in reverse the defences which had been thrown up by the
enemy for the protection of the two bridges. As Outram pushed on, the
rebels retreated, some across the stone bridge towards Fyzabad, and
some through the city towards the Musabagh. They made two attacks to
cover their retirement, one on Walpole's piquets, which enabled
a large number (20,000 it was said) to get away in the Fyzabad
direction, and another on the Alambagh, which was much more serious,
for the garrison had been reduced to less than a thousand men, and the
rebels' force was considerable, consisting of Infantry, Cavalry and
Artillery. They attacked with great determination, and fought for four
hours and a half before they were driven off.
It was not a judicious move on Sir Colin's part to send the Cavalry
miles away from Lucknow just when they could have been so usefully
employed on the outskirts of the city. This was also appreciated when
too late, and both brigades were ordered to return, which they did on
the 17th. Even then the Cavalry were not made full use of, for instead
of both brigades being collected on the Lucknow bank of the river,
which was now the sole line of retreat left open to the enemy (the
bridges being in our possession), one only (Campbell's) was sent
there, Hope Grant being directed to take up his old position on the
opposite side of the Gumti, from which we had the mortification of
watching the rebels streaming into the open country from the Musabagh,
without the smallest attempt being made by Campbell to stop or pursue
them. His brigade had been placed on the enemy's line of retreat on
purpose to intercept them, but he completely failed to do what was
expected of him. We, on our side, could do nothing, for an unfordable
river flowed between us and the escaping mutineers.[15]
There was one more fight in Lucknow. The Moulvie[16] of Fyzabad (who
from the first was one of the prominent leaders of the rebellion) had
returned at the head of a considerable force, and had placed himself
in a strongly-fortified position in the very centre of the city. It
was not without a severe struggle that he was dislodged by the 93rd
Highlanders and 4th Punjab Infantry under Lugard. The brunt of the
fighting fell upon the last-named regiment, the gallant Commander
(Wilde) of which, and his second in command,[17] were severely
wounded. The Moulvie made his escape, but his followers were pursued,
and many of them were cut up. Thus at last the city was cleared of
rebels, and we were once more masters in Lucknow.
On the 22nd March Hope Grant was ordered to proceed to Kursi, a small
town about twenty-five miles off between the Sitapur and Fyzabad
roads, reported to be occupied in force by the enemy.
We started at midnight with a brigade of Infantry, 1,000 Cavalry, two
troops of Horse Artillery, and eight heavy guns and mortars. We were
delayed some hours by the heavy guns and their escort (the 53rd Foot)
taking a wrong turn when leaving the city, which resulted in the enemy
being warned of our approach in time to clear out before we arrived.
On hearing they had gone, Hope Grant pushed on with the mounted
portion of the force, and we soon came in sight of the enemy in full
retreat. The Cavalry, commanded by Captain Browne,[18] was ordered
to pursue. It consisted of Browne's own regiment (the 2nd Punjab
Cavalry), a squadron of the 1st Punjab Cavalry under Captain Cosserat,
and three Horse Artillery guns. At the end of two miles, Browne came
upon a body of the mutineers formed up on an open plain. The Cavalry
charged through them three times, each time thinning their ranks
considerably, but they never wavered, and in the final charge avenged
themselves by killing Macdonnell (the Adjutant of the 2nd Punjab
Cavalry), and mortally wounding Cosserat. I arrived on the ground with
Hope Grant just in time to witness the last charge and the fall of
these two officers, and deplorable as we felt their loss to be, it was
impossible not to admire the gallantry and steadiness of the sepoys,
every one of whom fought to the death.
[Illustration: GENERAL SIR SAMUEL BROWNE, V.C., G.C.B., K.C.S.I.
_From a photograph by Messrs. Elliott and Fry._]
As soon as Browne could got his men together, the pursuit of the enemy
was continued; no further opposition was met with, and fourteen guns
fell into our hands.
On the 24th we retraced our steps, halting for the night at the old
cantonment of Muriao, where we buried poor Macdonnell. On the 25th we
crossed the Gumti, and pitched our camp near the Dilkusha.
Lucknow was now completely in our possession, and our success had been
achieved with remarkably slight loss, a result which was chiefly
due to the scientific manner in which the siege operations had been
carried on under the direction of our talented Chief Engineer, Robert
Napier, ably assisted by Colonel Harness; and also to the good use
which Sir Colin Campbell made of his powerful force of Artillery. Our
casualties during the siege amounted to only 16 British officers, 3
Native officers, and 108 men killed; 51 British officers, 4 Native
officers, and 540 men wounded, while 13 men were unaccounted for.
The capture of Lucknow, though not of such supreme importance in its
consequences as the taking of Delhi, must have convinced the rebels
that their cause was now hopeless. It is true that Jhansi had not yet
fallen, and that the rest of Oudh, Rohilkand, and the greater part
of Central India remained to be conquered, but there was no very
important city in the hands of the enemy, and the subjugation of the
country was felt to be merely a matter of time. Sir Hugh Rose, after a
brilliant campaign, had arrived before Jhansi, columns of our troops
were traversing the country in every direction, and the British Army
had been so largely increased that, on the 1st of April, 1858, there
were 96,000 British soldiers in India, besides a large body of
reliable Native troops, some of whom, although hurriedly raised, had
already shown that they were capable of doing good service--a very
different state of affairs from that which prevailed six months
before.
For some time I had been feeling the ill effects of exposure to the
climate and hard work, and the doctor, Campbell Browne, had been
urging me to go on the sick-list; that, of course, was out of the
question until Lucknow had fallen. Now, however, I placed myself in
Browne's hands, hoping that a change to the Hills was all that was
needed to set me up; but the doctors insisted on a trip to England. It
was a heavy blow to me to have to leave while there was still work to
be done, but I had less hesitation than I should have had if most
of my own immediate friends had not already gone. Several had been
killed, others had left sick or wounded; Watson had gone to Lahore,
busily engaged in raising a regiment of Cavalry;[19] Probyn was on his
way home, invalided; Hugh Gough had gone to the Hills to recover from
his wounds; and Norman and Stewart were about to leave Lucknow with
Army Head-Quarters.
On the 1st April, the sixth anniversary of my arrival in
India, I made over my office to Wolseley, who succeeded me as
Deputy-Assistant-Quartermaster-General on Hope Grant's staff, and
towards the middle of the month I left Lucknow.
The Commander-in-Chief was most kind and complimentary when I took
leave of him, and told me that, in consideration of my services,
he would bestow upon me the first permanent vacancy in the
Quartermaster-General's Department, and that he intended to recommend
that I should be given the rank of Brevet-Major so soon as I should
be qualified by becoming a regimental Captain. I was, of course, much
gratified by his appreciative words and kindly manner; but the brevet
seemed a long way off, for I had only been a First Lieutenant for less
than a year, and there were more than a hundred officers in the Bengal
Artillery senior to me in that rank!
I marched to Cawnpore with Army Head-Quarters. Sir William Peel, who
was slowly recovering from his wound, was of the party. We reached
Cawnpore on the 17th, and the next day I said good-bye to my friends
on the Chief's staff. Peel and I dined together on the 19th, when to
all appearances he was perfectly well, but on going into his room
the next morning I found he was in a high fever, and had some
suspicious-looking spots about his face. I went off at once in search
of a doctor, and soon returned with one of the surgeons of the 5th
Fusiliers, who, to my horror--for I had observed that Peel was nervous
about himself--exclaimed with brutal frankness the moment he entered
the room, 'You have got small-pox.' It was only too true. On being
convinced that this was the case, I went to the chaplain, the Rev.
Thomas Moore, and told him of Peel's condition. Without an instant's
hesitation, he decided the invalid must come to his house to be taken
care of. That afternoon I had the poor fellow carried over, and there
I left him in the kind hands of Mrs. Moore, the _padre's_ wife, who
had, as a special case, been allowed to accompany her husband to
Cawnpore. Peel died on the 27th. On the 4th May I embarked at Calcutta
in the P. and O. steamer _Nubia_, without, alas! the friend whose
pleasant companionship I had hoped to have enjoyed on the voyage.
[Illustration: PLAN TO ILLUSTRATE THE SIEGE AND CAPTURE OF LUCKNOW,
March, 1858]
[Footnote 1: The Infantry portion of the army was divided into three
divisions, commanded respectively by Outram, Lugard, and Walpole. This
was exclusive of Franks's column, which joined at Lucknow and made a
fourth division. The Artillery was placed under Archdale Wilson, and
the Engineers under Robert Napier. Sir Colin's selection of Commanders
caused considerable heart-burnings, especially amongst the senior
officers who had been sent out from England for the purpose of being
employed in the field. But, as the Chief explained to the Duke of
Cambridge, the selection had been made with the greatest care, it
having been found that 'an officer unexperienced in war in India
cannot act for himself ... it is quite impossible for him to be able
to weigh the value of intelligence ... he cannot judge what are the
resources of the country, and he is totally unable to make an estimate
for himself of the resistance the enemy opposed to him is likely to
offer.' Sir Colin wound up his letter as follows: 'I do not wish to
undervalue the merits of General or other officers lately arrived
from England, but merely to indicate to your Royal Highness the
difficulties against which they have to contend. What is more, the
state of things at present does not permit of trusting anything to
chance, or allowing new-comers to learn, except under the command of
others.'--Shadwell's 'Life of Lord Clyde.']
[Footnote 2: The late Captain Oliver Jones, who published his
experiences under that title.]
[Footnote 3: Literally 'blue cow,' one of the bovine antelopes.]
[Footnote 4: A few days afterwards, when we were some miles from the
scene of our adventure, I was awakened one morning by the greyhound
licking my face; she had cleverly found me out in the midst of a large
crowded camp.]
[Footnote 5: Peel had changed his 24-pounders for the more powerful
64-pounders belonging to H.M.S. _Shannon_.]
[Footnote 6:
Naval Brigade 431
Artillery 1,745
Engineers 865
Cavalry 3,169
Infantry 12,498
Franks's Division 2,880
Nepalese Contingent 9,000
------
30,588]
[Footnote 7: Kaye, in his 'History of the Indian Mutiny,' gives
the credit for originating this movement to the Commander-in-Chief
himself; but the present Lord Napier of Magdala has letters in his
possession which clearly prove that the idea was his father's,
and there is a passage in General Porter's 'History of the Royal
Engineers,' vol. ii., p. 476, written after he had read Napier's
letters to Sir Colin Campbell, which leaves no room for doubt as to my
version being the correct one.]
[Footnote 8: Outram's division consisted of the 23rd Royal Welsh
Fusiliers, 79th Highlanders, 2nd and 3rd battalions of the Rifle
Brigade, 1st Bengal Fusiliers, 2nd Punjab Infantry, D'Aguilar's,
Remmington's and Mackinnon's troops of Horse Artillery, Gibbon's and
Middleton's Field Batteries, and some Heavy guns, 2nd Dragoon Guards,
9th Lancers, 2nd Punjab Cavalry, and Watson's and Sandford's squadrons
of the 1st and 5th Punjab Cavalry.]
[Footnote 9: The late Lieutenant-General Sir Lothian Nicholson,
K.C.B.]
[Footnote 10: Now Colonel Thomas Butler, V.C.]
[Footnote 11: Now General the Right Hon. Sir Edward Lugard, G.C.B.]
[Footnote 12: It was current in camp, and the story has often been
repeated, that Hodson was killed in the act of looting. This certainly
was not the case. Hodson was sitting with Donald Stewart in the
Head-Quarters camp, when the signal-gun announced that the attack on
the Begum Kothi was about to take place. Hodson immediately mounted
his horse, and rode off in the direction of the city. Stewart, who had
been ordered by the Commander-in-Chief to accompany the troops, and
send an early report to his Excellency of the result of the assault,
had his horse ready, and followed Hodson so closely that he kept him
in sight until within a short distance of the fighting, when Stewart
stopped to speak to the officer in charge of Peel's guns, which had
been covering the advance of the troops. This delayed Stewart for a
few minutes only, and as he rode into the court-yard of the palace a
Highland soldier handed him a pistol, saying, 'This is your pistol,
sir; but I thought you were carried away mortally wounded a short time
ago?' Stewart at once conjectured that the man had mistaken him for
Hodson. In face they were not much alike, but both were tall, well
made and fair, and Native soldiers had frequently saluted one for the
other. It is clear from this account that Hodson could not have been
looting, as he was wounded almost as soon as he reached the palace.]
[Footnote 13: In the month of May, 1858, alone, not less than a
thousand British soldiers died of sunstroke, fatigue and disease, and
about a hundred were killed in action.]
[Footnote 14: Consisting of the 23rd Fusiliers, 79th Highlanders, and
1st Bengal Fusiliers.]
[Footnote 15: Captain Wale, a gallant officer who commanded a newly
raised corps of Sikh Cavalry, lost his life on this occasion. He
persuaded Campbell to let him follow up the enemy, and was shot dead
in a charge. His men behaved extremely well, and one of them, by name
Ganda Sing, saved the life of the late Sir Robert Sandeman, who was a
subaltern in the regiment. The same man, two years later, saved the
late Sir Charles Macgregor's life during the China war, and when I was
Commander-in-Chief in India I had the pleasure of appointing him to be
my Native Aide-de-Camp. Granda Sing, who has now the rank of Captain
and the title of _Sirdar Bahadur_, retired last year with a handsome
pension and a small grant of land.]
[Footnote 16: A Mahomedan Priest.]
[Footnote 17: Now General Cockburn Hood, C.B.]
[Footnote 18: Now General Sir Samuel Browne, V.C., G.C.B. This popular
and gallant officer, well known to every Native in Upper India as
'S[=a]m Br[=u]n _Sahib_,' and to the officers of the whole of Her
Majesty's army as the inventor of the sword-belt universally adopted
on service, distinguished himself greatly in the autumn of 1858. With
230 sabres of his own regiment and 350 Native Infantry, he attacked a
party of rebels who had taken up a position at Nuria, a village at the
edge of the Terai, about ten miles from Pilibhit. Browne managed to
get to the rear of the enemy without being discovered; a hand-to-hand
fight then ensued, in which he got two severe wounds--one on the knee,
from which he nearly bled to death, the other on the left shoulder,
cutting right through the arm. The enemy were completely routed, and
fled, leaving their four guns and 300 dead on the ground. Browne was
deservedly rewarded with the V.C.]
[Footnote 19: The present 13th Bengal Lancers.]
* * * * *