He was nicknamed "Phlos"--short for philosopher--even when at school.
Havelock and a few companions at Charterhouse met together for
devotion, and of course came in for a large amount of jeering from
some of the other boys. But it was useless to call him "Methodist" and
"hypocrite"; he had learnt from his mother the value of Bible reading,
and possessed sufficient character to care little what his companions
said.
He knew the right, and did it--thus early he was a philosopher in a
small way.
It had been intended that Havelock should follow the law as a
profession; and he was studying with this end in view when his father
stopped the necessary supplies of money, and he had to turn to some
other occupation for a living.
He had always had a leaning towards a military life, and by his
brother's aid obtained a commission as second lieutenant in 1815,
being then twenty years old.
Unlike Colin Campbell, who was in the thick of the fight within a few
months of joining his regiment, it was some years before Havelock had
a chance of distinguishing himself; but meantime he set to work to
study military history and tactics both ancient and modern.
Not content with this, he learnt Persian and Hindostanee; and thus
when he went to India in 1823 he was equipped as few young men of his
day were.
Havelock's faith, strong though it was, had to undergo a time of
severe trial. Doubts arose in his mind, and made him miserable while
they lasted. But on board ship he came across Lieut. Gardner, to whom,
with others, he was giving lessons in languages; and as a result of
his intercourse with this man he became again the same simple loving
believer that he had been when he learnt to read the Bible at his
mother's knee, or braved the taunts of his school-fellows.
During the two months he was at Calcutta he held religious meetings,
to which the soldiers were invited. At these, not only did he preach
the Gospel of Christ, but he made a point of telling the men the
blessings of temperance; and it was by his influence that later on
a society was formed in the regiment, and various attractions were
placed before the men to keep them from intemperance.
Now came the chance of active service for which he had been longing.
An expedition was planned against the Burmese, and Havelock was one of
the members. But a great disappointment was in store for him. The ship
in which he sailed was delayed, and did not arrive at Rangoon till the
town was taken. Still, though there was no glory to be gained, there
was much good work to be done in looking after his men's comfort and
well-being; and this he did to the utmost of his power. He also held
simple services, such as the men could appreciate, in one of the
Buddhist temples.
Though there was not a great deal of fighting to do, there were great
losses of men through disease; and Havelock himself was ere long so
ill that he was told a voyage to England was the only thing to save
his life.
This, however, he objected to; and after a stay at Bombay he was
sufficiently restored to rejoin his regiment.
During this war a night attack was made by the enemy on an outpost;
and the men ordered to repulse it were not ready when summoned.
"Then call out Havelock's saints," said the commander-in-chief. "They
are always sober, and can be depended upon, and Havelock himself is
always ready." And, surely enough, "Havelock's saints" were among the
enemy in double quick time, and soon gave them as much steel and lead
as they had any wish for!
"Every inch a soldier, and every inch a Christian,"--that was an exact
description of this man.
Even the day he got married to Hannah Marshman, the missionary's
daughter, he showed that he was a soldier before all else. For, having
been suddenly summoned to attend a military court of inquiry at twelve
o'clock on his wedding day, he got married at an earlier hour than he
had previously arranged, took a quick boat to Calcutta, returning to
his bride when his business of the day was finished.
Time passed on, and the leader of "the saints" was still but a junior
lieutenant, though he had been seventeen years in the army.
Thrice were his hopes of promotion raised, and thrice doomed to
disappointment.
Still he murmured not. "I have only two wishes," he would say. "I
pray that in life and death I may glorify God, and that my wife and
children may be provided for."
Heavy trials befel him. Death laid its hand on his little boy Ettrick,
and another child was so burnt in a fire that happened at their
bungalow that he died also, whilst his beloved wife narrowly escaped
the same fate. Yet he bore all this with patience.
Stern commander though he was, his men loved him so much that they
wanted to give him a month of their pay to assist him in the loss of
means occasioned by the fire.
Though their offer was refused, yet Havelock could not but be thankful
for the kind feeling which prompted it.
At length, after over twenty years' service, he became a captain.
In the Afghan war Havelock was with General Sale at Jellalabad at the
time that Dr. Brydon brought the news of the massacre of our men by
the Afghans; and during the anxious time that followed he was able to
render good service in the field and at the council table.
He fought in the battles of Moodkee, Ferozeshah, and Sobraon. At
the first-named he had two horses shot under him; and in all he
distinguished himself by coolness and bravery.
When the terrible mutiny broke out in India in the year 1857, the
hour of dire emergency had come, and with it had come the man. "Your
excellency," said Sir Patrick Grant, presenting Havelock to Lord
Canning, "I have brought the man."
That was on 17th June, 1857.
Two days later Havelock was appointed to the command of the little
army. His instructions were that, "after quelling all disturbances
at Allahabad, he should not lose a moment in supporting Sir Henry
Lawrence at Lucknow, and Sir Hugh Wheeler at Cawnpore; and that he
should take prompt measures for dispersing and utterly destroying all
mutineers and insurgents".
A large order that to tell a commander with 2000 men, to take a dozen
fortified places defended by ten times the number of his own force!
Not a moment was to be lost, for both cities were in deadly peril.
Alas! Early on the 1st July came news of the terrible massacre of
the Cawnpore garrison,--men, women and children slain in one wanton,
heartless slaughter, which still makes the blood run cold to read
about.
Out of the 2000 men under Havelock's command 1400 only were British
soldiers. But in that force every man was a hero. Notwithstanding the
scorching heat of an Indian summer,--in spite, too, of the fact that
a number of the men were obliged to march in heavy garments utterly
unsuited to the climate; though death, disease, and a thousand perils
lay in front of them,--not a man of Havelock's "Ironsides" but was
impatient to push onward to death or victory.
The general himself was full of humble trust in the Lord, and was in
good spirits notwithstanding--perhaps because of--the perils before
him. For it is written of him that "he was always as sour as if he had
swallowed a pint of vinegar except when he was being shot at,--and
then he was as blithe as a schoolboy out for a holiday".
Sour he was _not_, but he kept splendid discipline among his troops.
"Soldiers," he said as they set out, "there is work before us. We are
bound on an expedition whose object is the supremacy of British rule,
and to avenge the fate of British men and women."
The first battle fought was at Futtehpore. Writing to his wife on the
same night, Havelock said: "One of the prayers oft repeated throughout
my life has been answered, and I have lived to command in a general
action.... We fought, and in ten minutes' time the affair was
decided.... But away with vain glory! Thanks to God Almighty, who gave
me the victory."
Day, after day, the men fought and marched--marched and fought. Battle
after battle was won against foes of reckless daring, carefully
entrenched, amply supplied with big guns, and infinitely superior in
numbers.
His men were often half famished. For two whole days they had but one
meal, consisting of a few biscuits and porter!
Hearing that some of the women and children were still alive, having
escaped the massacre of 27th June, Havelock pressed on with his
wearied little army. "With God's help," said he, "we shall save them,
or every man die in the attempt."
Nana Sahib himself barred the way to Cawnpore. His 5000 men were well
placed in good positions; but they were driven from post to post
before the onset of the British.
"Now, Highlanders!" shouted Havelock, as the men halted to re-form
after one of their irresistible onslaughts; "another charge like the
last wins the day!"
And again the Scots scattered the enemy, at the bayonet's point.
The sun was far towards the western horizon before the battle was
finally over. The mutineers were brave men; and, though beaten,
retreated, reformed, and fought again.
The enemy had rallied at a village; and Havelock's men, after their
day's fight, lagged a little when, having gone over ploughed fields
and swamps, they came again under fire.
[Illustration: THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW.]
But their general rode out under fire of the guns, and, smiling as a
cannon ball just missed him by a hairsbreadth, said:--
"Come, who is to take that village--the Highlanders or the 64th?"
That was enough: pell-mell went both regiments upon the enemy, who had
a bad quarter of an hour between the two.
Cawnpore was won; but, alas! the women and children had been slain
whilst their countrymen had been fighting for their deliverance. And
Lucknow was not yet to be relieved.
For after advancing into Oude Havelock found that constant fighting,
cholera, sunstroke and illness had so reduced his numbers that to go
on would risk the extermination of his force.
He therefore returned to await reinforcements. By the time these
arrived, Sir James Outram had been appointed general of the forces in
India; but he generously refused to accept the command till Lucknow
had been relieved, saying that, Havelock having made such noble
exertions, it was only right he should have the honour of leading the
troops till this had been done.
So he accompanied the army as a volunteer; and again the men fought
their way, this time right through the mutineers, accomplishing their
object by the first relief of Lucknow.
On the evening of 28th September, the soldiers reached the Residency,
where the British had been shut up for so long face to face with
death. The last piece of fighting was the worst they had had to face.
Fired at from roof and window by concealed foes, they marched on with
unwavering courage, and those who reached the Residency had a reward
such as can come to few in this life.
As the women and children frantic with joy rushed to welcome their
rescuers the stern-set faces of the Highlanders changed to joy and
gladness; hunger, thirst, wounds, weariness--all were forgotten as
they clasped hands with those for whom they had fought and bled.
"God bless you," they exclaimed; "why, we expected to have found only
your bones!"
"And the children living too!"
Women and children, civilians and soldiers, gave themselves up to pure
gladness of heart, and in that meeting all thought of past woes and
dangers faded away.
After a series of the most thrilling incidents the world has known,
Lucknow was finally relieved by Sir Colin Campbell.
When Havelock came from the Residency to meet the troops the men
flocked round him cheering, and their enthusiasm brought tears to the
veteran's eyes.
On the 17th November Lucknow was relieved, and on the 24th Havelock
died. "I have," he said to Outram in his last illness, "for forty
years so ruled my life that when death came I might face it without
fear."