On every side death stared us in the face; no human skill could avert it
any longer. We saw the moment approach when we must bid farewell to
earth, yet without feeling that unutterable horror which must have been
experienced by the unhappy victims at Cawnpore. We were resolved rather
to die than to yield, and were fully persuaded that in twenty-four hours
all would be over. The engineer had said so, and all knew the worst. We
women strove to encourage each other, and to perform the light duties
which had been assigned to us, such as conveying orders to the
batteries, and supplying the men with provisions, especially cups of
coffee, which we prepared day and night.
I had gone out to try to make myself useful, in company with Jessie
Brown, the wife of a corporal in my husband’s regiment. Poor Jessie had
been in a state of restless excitement all through the siege, and had
fallen away visibly within the last few days. A constant fever consumed
her, and her mind wandered occasionally, especially that day, when the
recollections of home seemed powerfully present to her. At last,
overcome with fatigue, she lay down on the ground, wrapped up in her
plaid. I sat beside her, promising to awaken her when, as she said, her
“father should return from the ploughing.”
She fell at length into a profound slumber, motionless and apparently
breathless, her head resting in my lap. I myself could no longer resist
the inclination to sleep, in spite of the continual roar of the cannon.
Suddenly I was aroused by a wild, unearthly scream close to my ear; my
companion stood upright beside me, her arms raised, and her head bent
forward in the attitude of listening.
A look of intense delight broke over her countenance; she grasped my
hand, drew me towards her, and exclaimed: “Dinna ye hear it? dinna ye
hear it? Ay. I’m no dreaming: it’s the slogan o’ the Highlanders! We’re
saved! we’re saved!” Then flinging herself on her knees, she thanked God
with passionate fervor. I felt utterly bewildered; my English ears heard
only the roar of artillery, and I thought my poor Jessie was still
raving; but she darted to the batteries, and I heard her cry incessantly
to the men: “Courage! courage! Hark to the slogan--to the Macgregor, the
grandest of them a’! Here’s help at last!”
To describe the effect of these words upon the soldiers would be
impossible. For a moment they ceased firing, and every soul listened
with intense anxiety. Gradually, however, there arose a murmur of
bitter disappointment, and the wailing of the women, who had flocked to
the spot, burst out anew as the colonel shook his head. Our dull Lowland
ears heard only the rattle of the musketry. A few moments more of this
deathlike suspense, of this agonizing hope, and Jessie, who had again
sunk on the ground, sprang to her feet, and cried in a voice so clear
and piercing that it was heard along the whole line: “Will ye no believe
in it noo? The slogan has ceased, indeed, but the Campbells are comin’!
D’ ye hear? d’ ye hear?”
At that moment all seemed indeed to hear the voice of God in the
distance, when the pibroch of the Highlanders brought us tidings of
deliverance; for now there was no longer any doubt of the fact. That
shrill, penetrating, ceaseless sound, which rose above all other sounds,
could come neither from the advance of the enemy, nor from the work of
the sappers. No, it was indeed the blast of the Scottish bagpipes, now
shrill and harsh, as threatening vengeance on the foe, then in softer
tones, seeming to promise succor to their friends in need.
Never, surely, was there such a scene as that which followed. Not a
heart in the residency of Lucknow but bowed itself before God. All, by
one simultaneous impulse, fell upon their knees, and nothing was heard
but bursting sobs and the murmured voice of prayer. Then all arose, and
there rang out from a thousand lips a great shout of joy, which
resounded far and wide, and lent new vigor to that blessed pibroch.
To our cheer of “God save the Queen,” they replied by the well-known
strain that moves every Scot to tears, “Should auld acquaintance be
forgot.” After that, nothing else made any impression on me. I scarcely
remember what followed. Jessie was presented to the general on his
entrance into the fort, and at the officers’ banquet her health was
drunk by all present, while the pipers marched around the table playing
once more the familiar air of “Auld Lang Syne.”
--_From a letter by the wife of an officer at Lucknow._