It was the time of the Indian Mutiny. Lucknow was in the hands of the
rebels. Within the Residency Sir James Outram, Sir Henry Havelock,
and their troops, were fast shut up, around them a vast multitude of
mutineers. But now near at hand was Sir Colin Campbell with the army
of relief.
It was difficult, nay, almost impossible, to get a trusty messenger
through that multitude of fierce and bloodthirsty foes; and yet it was
of the utmost importance that Sir Colin should have some one to tell
him what was passing within the Residency, and show him the best route
by which his troops could approach.
If any man tried to get through and failed, death--or perhaps worse
still, horrible torture--was his certain fate. But there was one man
who determined to do it, or die in the attempt. His name was Kavanagh.
It was so dangerous a matter that when Sir James Outram heard of his
proposal he declared he would not have asked one of his officers
to attempt the passage. But in the end he accepted the offer, and
Kavanagh prepared for the journey.
Dressing himself as a native soldier, and covering his face and hands
with lampblack, he was so altered in appearance that even his friends
failed to recognise him. Thus disguised, and accompanied by a
native spy named Kunoujee Lal to guide him, he set out. The night,
fortunately, was dark and favoured their design. The first thing they
did was to ford the Goomtee, a river about a hundred yards wide, and
four or five feet deep. Taking off their garments they waded across;
but whilst in the water Kavanagh's courage reached a low ebb, and he
wished himself back again. However, they got to the opposite bank in
safety, and crouching up a ditch found a grove of trees, where they
dressed.
Kavanagh's confidence had now returned, and he felt so sure of his
disguise that he even exchanged a few words with a matchlock-man whom
they met. After going on for about half a mile they reached the iron
bridge over the river, and here they were challenged by a native
officer. Kavanagh kept judiciously in the shade whilst the guide
advanced and answered the questions put to him satisfactorily, and
they were allowed to proceed. A little further they passed through a
number of Sepoys, but these let them go by without inquiry. Having
had the good fortune to get unperceived past a sentry who was closely
questioning a native, they came into the principal street of Lucknow,
jostling against the armed rebels, who would have killed them in a
moment had their suspicion been aroused. But no mishap occurred, and
after being challenged by a watchman they at last found themselves to
their great relief out in the open country.
They were now in the best of spirits, and went along for a few miles
in a state of great gladness. Then came a rude shock. They had taken
the wrong direction, and were returning into the midst of the rebels.
It was an awful awakening for Kavanagh. Suppose the spy after all were
playing him false. It seemed an extraordinary mistake to have made.
Happily it was stupidity not treason that had caused the disastrous
loss of time, and the guide was full of sorrow for his error.
There was nothing now to be done but to return as quickly as possible;
but they were for a while in an awkward fix, as they could get no one
to direct them.
A man whom they asked declared he was too old to guide them, another
on being commanded to lead them ran off shouting and alarmed the
village. It was now midnight, so there was no time to be lost. They
made for the canal, into which Kavanagh fell several times, for his
shoes were wet and slippery, and he was footsore and weary. By this
time the shoes he wore had rubbed the skin off his toes and cut into
the flesh above the heels.
About two o'clock in the morning they came across a picket of Sepoys,
and, thinking it safer not to try and avoid them, went up and asked
the way. Having answered the inquiries put to them without exciting
suspicion, they were directed aright.
They now made for Sir Colin's camp, which the spy told him was
situated at a village called Bunnee, about eighteen miles from
Lucknow. The moon had risen by this time, and they could now see their
way clearly. About three o'clock a villager observing them approach
called out a Sepoy guard of twenty-five men, who asked them all kinds
of questions. Kunoujee Lal now got frightened, for the first time; and
threw away the letter he had received, for fear of being taken, but
Kavanagh kept his in his turban. At last they satisfied the guard that
they were poor men travelling to the village of Umroola to inform a
friend of the death of his brother, and they were directed on their
perilous road.
Hardly had they got through one difficulty than they were into
another. For now they found themselves in a swamp, where they waded
for two hours up to their waists in water. This might have proved the
worst accident of all, for in forcing his way through the weeds nearly
all the black was washed off Kavanagh's hands. Had they after this
been seen by the enemy there would have been little chance of either
of them reaching the British lines alive.
Much against the spy's advice, Kavanagh now insisted on a quarter of
an hour's rest, for he was about worn out. After this they passed
between two of the enemy's pickets who, happily for them, had no
sentries thrown out, and reached a grove of trees. Here he asked
Kunoujee Lal to see if there was any one who could tell them where
they were. Before they had gone far, however, they heard with joy
the English challenge, "Who goes there?" They had reached a British
cavalry outpost, and Kavanagh's eyes filled with tears as he shook the
officer's hand. They took him into a tent, gave him some dry clothes
and refreshment; and he thanked God for having preserved him through
the perils of that awful night.
All through the British camp spread the tale of Kavanagh's brave deed;
and the enthusiasm of officers and men alike knew no bounds.
The information he was able to give proved of the greatest assistance;
and a little later he had the honour of conducting Sir James Outram
and Sir Henry Havelock into the presence of Sir Colin Campbell, and
witnessed the meeting of these three great commanders.
When the army of relief forced its way into Lucknow, Kavanagh was
always near the commander-in-chief; and, when at length they drew near
to the besieged, he was one of the first at the Residency, and as he
approached a loud cheer burst forth from his old associates. "It is
Kavanagh!" they shouted. "He is the first to relieve us. Three cheers
for him!"
In consideration of his gallant services he received the Victoria
Cross, and was afterwards made Assistant-Commissioner of Oude.