DR. J. JEE, C.B., V.C., SURGEON; ASSISTANT-SURGEON V. M. M’MASTER, V.C.;
AND LIEUTENANT AND ADJUTANT HERBERT T. MACPHERSON, V.C.
No less than six Victoria Crosses were awarded to the 78th Highlanders,
for distinguished conduct in the field during their heroic march to
relieve the beleaguered garrison at Lucknow. We have already shown
how this honourable distinction was attained by Private Henry Ward,
and Lieutenant Bogle: it now remains for us briefly to relate the
circumstances under which four other officers of the same regiment—one
of whom does not occupy a place in Mr. Desange’s Gallery—earned for
themselves the Cross of Valour.
On the 29th of July, 1857, General Havelock fought two battles and gained
two victories. The mutinous Sepoys, who had taken up a strong position in
the town of Oude, which is intersected by the great road from Cawnpore to
Lucknow, endeavoured to intercept the army of rescue in their advance,
but were driven from their position with considerable loss. They then
fell back upon Busherutgunge, another fortified town, but Havelock gave
them little time to rest; in a few hours he was upon them: the 78th
Highlanders and the Madras Fusiliers rushed forward with their usual
impetuosity, and carried everything before them. The loss of the enemy
in these two battles amounted to more than a thousand men; it would have
been still greater if Havelock had been provided with cavalry to follow
up his victory. The road to Lucknow was now open to him. Many a prayer
was offered up for his speedy arrival by the half-famished garrison,
whose only hope of deliverance was in him. But was he in a position to
advance? Cholera, that insidious foe which almost invariably follows in
the track of an army in the field in India, had struck down one-fourth
of his gallant band; men who had charged with irresistible fury in the
morning, found themselves at night writhing with agony in the deadly
grasp of their invisible enemy. In the two battles he had lost nearly a
hundred men in killed and wounded; the number was small, but a few more
such victories would leave him without an army. He had yet to advance
thirty-six miles through a country occupied by the enemy, before he
could reach Lucknow, and he had not more than twelve hundred men able
to march. This number might be diminished by one-fourth, as he would
require a convoy of three hundred men to escort the sick and wounded. It
was a severe struggle, but the conclusion was irresistible: the garrison
at Lucknow could not be rescued from the fifty thousand rebels that
environed them on every side by Havelock’s available force, which fell
short of the full complement of a single regiment.
There was no help for it; he must retrace his steps to Cawnpore, and
wait there for reinforcements. He was not the man to hesitate in the
path of duty; the order was given to fall back on Oude, where his army
spent the night. The Highlanders and Fusiliers, flushed with their recent
successes, and confident in their own courage, listened to this order
with dismay. The road to Lucknow was before them, and why should the
general refuse them permission to advance? Did he distrust their courage?
They had stood by him in seven battles, and won him as many victories.
In such moments of enthusiasm, men’s feelings are strung to the highest
pitch; rough-bearded soldiers were seen to wipe the tears from their eyes
when, for the first time, they turned their backs upon the enemy. No
doubt Havelock felt it as much as any soldier under his command; but he
was a man who never allowed feeling to interfere with duty, and when he
had once made up his mind nothing could swerve him from his purpose.
The beginning of the month of August was gloomy in the extreme; the
garrison at Lucknow, with the massacre of Cawnpore fresh in their
memories to remind them of the fate that awaited them if they fell into
the hands of the bloodthirsty wretches who hemmed them in on every side,
fought as the Greeks fought at Thermopylæ, and chose rather to bury
themselves beneath the ruins than surrender. It may be that Havelock
suffered more than they did: his heart bled for them; he was prepared to
make any sacrifice to save them; but their safety depended on his having
a sufficient army to effect their rescue. Neile behaved like a gallant
soldier: every man who could be spared from Cawnpore was sent to his aid,
and every man who came was welcomed as a treasure. Gradually the little
army swelled in numbers till it reached an efficient strength of 1400
men, which it never exceeded; but there were no cowardly, treacherous
natives in the ranks, and the general and his soldiers had the fullest
confidence in one another.
Again the faces of the men were turned towards Lucknow, and their former
enthusiasm revived. On the 4th of August the army was on the march, and
the small body of volunteer cavalry was sent forward to reconnoitre.
They dashed through Oude without interruption; but on reaching the scene
of Havelock’s second victory, they found the enemy had taken possession
of a series of hamlets between the town and the lake, with the evident
intention of blocking up our line of communication. On the same evening
they galloped back to Oude, and informed Havelock that the rebels were
waiting his approach. After a night’s bivouac, the army resumed their
march, and soon joined issue with the enemy on the scene of their former
victory. The result was not long doubtful: shelled from the town by our
guns, the rebels were chased through the hamlets by the Highlanders and
Fusiliers, and pursued to an open plain beyond. The day was ours, but the
victory led to nothing; the enemy again awaited our advance, and Havelock
was obliged to retire to his former quarters.
The letters which the gallant old man wrote at this juncture to his
family and friends, prove that this was one of the most trying periods
of his life. His conduct was liable to misconstruction even among
his own men; but he was sustained by a sense of duty, and the inward
consciousness of right. If he had ever entertained any doubts about
the necessity of falling back upon Cawnpore, they were removed by the
position of things in that town. On his arrival, Nana Sahib, the butcher
of Bithoor, had collected a body of troops, and was threatening our
army on every side; his cavalry swept through the suburbs, and even
attempted to force their way through the town. Our communications with
Allahabad were threatened, and an immediate blow must be struck. While
Havelock was preparing to recross the Ganges, on the morning of the
11th of August, a succession of spies brought him information that four
thousand rebels had advanced from Nawabgunge to Busherut, the scene of
his former victory, with the evident intention of hanging on his rear,
and attacking his column during the passage. To have crossed the river
under such circumstances would have been fraught with difficulty, if
not with danger, and the rebels would have boasted that they had driven
the British forces from the province of Oude by their superior valour.
Havelock, knowing that an apparent success on the part of the enemy
would destroy the prestige of his former victories, and spread the flame
of rebellion through the province, turned round like a lion at bay,
and advanced for the third time to encounter the rebel army. On the
afternoon of the 11th, his column was in motion, and his advanced guard
drove the enemy from the town of Oude. On reaching Busherut, he found
their army spread out to a great distance to the right and left, and
strongly entrenched in the centre. Their numbers have been estimated at
20,000 men, and their position had been chosen with great skill: their
right rested on a village on the main road, where they had established a
battery among the gardens; their left, on a rising ground, protected by
three guns. Their line is said to have extended five miles, and Havelock
saw the necessity of postponing his attack till the following day. His
wearied troops returned to Oude, where they bivouacked on the wet ground,
and spent the night without shelter amid a deluge of rain. But nothing
could daunt their ardour. They rose on the morning of the 12th ready to
follow their leader to victory. Our right wing, which consisted of the
78th Highlanders, the Fusiliers, the Sikhs, and part of the Volunteer
Cavalry, began the attack, and steadily advanced, till their progress
was arrested by a swamp, which in the distance presented the appearance
of dry land. As soon as they were within range, the enemy unmasked
their battery, which poured forth a deadly shower of round shot, shell,
canister, grape, and shrapnel; but, fortunately, their guns were pointed
too high, and our men were withdrawn without suffering much loss. The
Highlanders moved on to the main road, while the Fusiliers, supported
by four guns, diverged to the right. It was no time for manœuvring; an
effort must at once be made to silence the enemy’s fire—the most severe
we had yet encountered. A flanking fire was opened on the enemy’s line,
which threw them into confusion, and at the same moment the Highlanders,
now reduced to about a hundred, steadily advanced till they were within
a short distance of the enemy’s guns, when they dashed forward with a
shout, rushed upon the principal redoubt, and carried it at the point
of the bayonet, without firing a shot. The honour of being the first to
enter the redoubt was equally divided between two of their officers; and
when the officers lead the way, the men will never refuse to follow. The
enemy’s infantry broke and fled, and the Highlanders, seizing two of
their guns, turned them against them, and drove them through the hamlets
to an open plain beyond. Our loss amounted to thirty-two men, while the
rebels lost upwards of three hundred; and the general having attained the
object he had in view, slowly retraced his steps to Cawnpore, with the
two guns he had captured. On reaching that town, the gallantry of the
Highlanders in carrying the enemy’s redoubt was recognised in the order
of the day; and the general promised to recommend for the Victoria Cross
the officer, non-commissioned officer, or soldier who had been the first
to enter this work. The Highlanders had charged with such impetuosity,
that Colonel Hamilton, their commanding officer, had some difficulty in
ascertaining to whom the honour belonged: in such cases, it is best to
leave the matter to the decision of the men themselves, and this was done
in the present instance. It appeared that two young officers, Lieutenant
Campbell and Lieutenant Crowe, cleared the wall of the redoubt at the
same moment; the honour was equally divided between them, and both
would doubtless have been decorated with the Cross of Valour if they
had survived the campaign: but poor Campbell was cut off by cholera the
following day, and the distinction was awarded to Lieutenant Crowe, who
still continues to enjoy it. This was the second Victoria Cross bestowed
upon the 78th Highlanders since Havelock assumed the command of that
gallant regiment.
But the fighting was not yet over; other opportunities of distinction
awaited those who knew how to profit by them. No sooner had Havelock
brought his column across the Ganges, on the 13th of August, than he
began to concert his plans for striking a blow at Nana Sahib, who had
resumed his former position at Bithoor. On the 14th, the men enjoyed
a day’s repose; on the 15th, the gallant Neile left his entrenchment
with a mere handful of soldiers, surprised the enemy’s left wing, and
drove them, with considerable loss, from the vicinity of Cawnpore. On
the 16th, Havelock advanced in the direction of Bithoor with a body of
1300 men, nearly all the available forces that could be collected in
the town. After a fatiguing march of eight hours beneath the fierce
rays of a tropical sun, they came upon the enemy, who had taken up a
strong position in front of Bithoor. They had two guns, and an earthen
redoubt in and near a plantation of sugar-canes and castor-oil trees,
which reached above the heads of the men, while their batteries,
effectually masked, were defended by thick ramparts flanked by entrenched
quadrangles. Their position was also flanked by two villages, with
loopholed houses and walls: in the hands of a braver foe it would have
been almost impregnable; but the Highlanders and Fusiliers, mindful of
their past victories, advanced with the certainty of success. After a
brief exchange of artillery-fire, those two regiments received the order
to charge: the Fusiliers soon cleared the entrenched quadrangles of the
enemy, and drove them before them at the point of the bayonet; while
the Highlanders rushed upon the battery which was immediately in front
of them. On they went, alternately lying down and starting up again, so
as to escape the fierce discharges of grape and canister with which the
rebels strove to arrest their progress. Now they are in front of the
battery, and the foremost of them have cleared the parapet; for a moment
the rebels dared to cross bayonets with them, but it was only for a
moment; they quailed beneath the stern gaze of the mountaineers, turned,
and fled. They were driven through the town of Bithoor, which fell into
our hands; it was impossible to pursue them farther, and our troops
bivouacked on the ground they had so bravely won. Here, as on every other
occasion when victory crowned our arms, the want of cavalry was severely
felt: we reaped all the honours, but few of the solid advantages which
attend success.
The battle of Bithoor was the conclusion of Havelock’s first brief,
but brilliant campaign for the relief of Lucknow. In a few weeks with
a single column he had defeated the enemy, who were vastly superior to
him in numbers, in five pitched battles; thrice he had advanced in the
direction of Lucknow, and thrice he had been compelled to retire, not
by the rebels, but by the ravages of disease, and the want of transport
for his sick and wounded. Every victory he gained weakened his numbers,
and might almost have justified the exclamation of Pyrrhus—“Another
such victory, and I am undone.” Every urgent appeal for reinforcements
remained unheeded, and his little army required repose. It was not that
the authorities were unwilling to reinforce him, but they had really
no troops to spare, so fiercely had the tide of rebellion set in on
every side. When he returned to Cawnpore on the 19th of August, he
had seventeen officers and four hundred and sixty-six men on the sick
list; or, in other words, about one-fourth of his army was unfit for
service, and the rest were so exhausted that they could scarcely take
the field. Havelock and Neile thirsted to encourage their handful of men
by leading them against the enemy; but they knew that personal feeling
must be subordinate to the one great object of the campaign—the relief of
Lucknow. It would have defeated that object to have frittered away their
forces in gaining victories which ended in nothing; all that could be
done was to recruit the exhausted energies of their men, and to wait for
reinforcements.
The rebels, encouraged by their apparent inactivity, and mistaking
its cause, assembled in great force on the Oude side of the river, and
threatened to cross at two different places; while, on the other bank,
the small British force from Calpee was exposed to the attacks of the
Gwalior Contingent. This compulsory delay was equally trying to all; but
what could be done with an “army” of seven hundred men, when opposed
to thirty-seven thousand armed and disciplined soldiers? Every day the
general’s telegrams became more urgent and importunate. He was prepared
“to fight anything and at any odds;” but he knew that it would be madness
to advance to Lucknow with the mere handful of men under his command.
There were twenty thousand rebels between him and that town; and though
the fact was well established, that the Asiatics were unable to withstand
the fierce onset of the smallest number of British troops, yet no victory
was gained without a certain amount of loss on our part; and this loss,
added to the ravages of disease, would have caused his little army to
melt away before he reached Lucknow. On the 21st of August, he announced
that, if he were not speedily reinforced, he would abandon the enterprize
as hopeless, and return to Allahabad, from which he had begun his career
of victory about two months before. Meanwhile, he continued to strengthen
his position at Cawnpore, and to send his sick and wounded to Allahabad,
so that all who remained might be able to take the field.
It would be difficult to say which of the two—Havelock or Inglis—was
most to be pitied. The former, after he was compelled to retreat, wrote
a note, which the messenger contrived to convey to Inglis in safety.
Nothing was concealed; his failure was freely admitted, and he concluded
by saying, “You must aid us in every way, even to cutting your way
out; if we can’t force our way in. We have only a small force.” Inglis
received this note on the 15th, and on the 23rd the messenger, who was
seven days on the way, and had many narrow escapes, brought back his
reply. The garrison at Lucknow was reduced to the last extremity: within
the walls of the Residency were 120 sick and wounded men; 220 women, and
230 children; their stock of provisions was almost exhausted; officers
and civilians had to toil from morning to night like common labourers;
cholera and the bullets of the enemy were gradually thinning their
numbers: but amid all their privations and sufferings they never dreamed
of surrendering. It was better to die within their entrenchments than to
be massacred in cold blood by the ruthless foe without; so they continued
to hold out till the end of the month, when hope again began to dawn
upon the little army of rescue at Cawnpore. Two thousand men belonging
to different regiments were on their way from Calcutta to join them; and
the Naval Brigade, which was composed of five hundred “blue jackets,”
under Captain Peel, who had already distinguished himself in the Crimea,
had left by steamer on the 20th. There was a quarter of a million of
public money in the Residency at Lucknow; but the Governor-General wrote
to Havelock to leave it behind, or to use it in any way that might best
contribute to the deliverance of the garrison.
A new actor now appears upon the scene. The gallant Outram, the Bayard
of India, “sans peur et sans reproche,” having brought the Persian war
to a successful conclusion, hurried back to Calcutta, and was appointed
to the chief command in the Cawnpore district. He entered on his command
at Cawnpore on the 18th of August, two days after Havelock had gained
his tenth victory over the rebels. On the 1st of September he reached
Allahabad, where he found himself at the head of nearly 1700 men of
different regiments. Leaving 300 to garrison the town, he hurried on
with the rest to reinforce Havelock. Officers and men were equally
anxious to have a brush with the “Pandies,” and to prevent the horrors
of Cawnpore from being repeated at Lucknow. After cutting off a body
of 300 insurgents who were about to cross the Ganges into Doab, Outram
joined Havelock on the 15th of September, and in the exercise of a noble
self-denial which will endear his name to posterity more than all his
brilliant achievements, offered to serve as a volunteer in that army
which he had a right to command. In the spirit of true charity, he
sacrificed personal feeling to a higher sense of justice, and insisted
that Havelock should complete the work he had so well begun. He admired
Havelock with that sincere, unselfish admiration which none but such
generous souls can feel, and scorned the idea of robbing him of his
laurels. On the 16th he issued an order, announcing that Havelock was
promoted to the rank of major-general, and would continue to hold the
command of the army until the relief of Lucknow had been achieved; he
himself would accompany it as a volunteer, proud to serve in any capacity
under such a leader. Havelock’s heart was touched by this “characteristic
generosity of feeling,” which had the best effect upon the men, and
infused into them something of that chivalrous feeling of which Outram
had given such a noble display.
Before leaving Cawnpore, the two generals telegraphed to the
Governor-General to inquire whether, if Lucknow were recaptured, they
should hold it at all hazards, so as to maintain the _prestige_ of the
British arms, and received the following sensible reply:—“Save the
garrison; never mind our _prestige_ just now, provided you liberate
Inglis: we will recover _prestige_ afterwards. I cannot just now send you
any more troops. Save the British in the Residency, and act afterwards
as your strength will permit.” Better advice could not have been given,
and the two generals proceeded at once to act upon it. Two months had
elapsed since Havelock entered Cawnpore as a conqueror; his noble spirit
chafed at the thought that his victories had contributed nothing to the
rescue of the garrison; but now a brighter prospect opened up before him;
his army was reinforced, and he and Outram marched forth from Cawnpore
with the stern resolve to save the half-famished women and children at
Lucknow, or perish in the attempt. All ranks were animated by the same
feeling; they had confidence in their generals and in themselves, and
they already counted on success.
On the 19th of September they crossed the Ganges into Oude by a bridge
of boats which had been constructed by Captain Crommelin, and the
enemy assembled on the banks offered only a feeble resistance. The
rapid advances of our men enabled them to overtake them on the 21st,
when they rushed upon them, turned their right flank, drove them from
their position, and captured four of their guns. No wonder that success
attended an army in which Outram was serving as a volunteer: during the
day he headed one of the charges, and the men, inspired by his example,
carried everything before them. The enemy were pursued with such rapidity
that they had not time to destroy the Bunnee bridge over the Sye, and on
the 23rd Havelock again overtook them. They had now taken up a strong
position, and were resolved to make a desperate stand: their left was
posted in the enclosure of the Alum Bagh, and their centre and right on
low hills. This position was so close to Lucknow that the firing could
be distinctly heard in the Residency; and when Havelock discharged his
biggest guns, to tell them that help was at hand, the garrison thought
it the grandest _feu de joie_ they had ever heard. The dying seemed to
receive new life; some wept, others prayed; all prepared to welcome their
deliverers. But though they were now only two miles from Lucknow, they
had still many difficulties to encounter, and Havelock saw the necessity
of giving his wearied troops, who had been marching three days under a
deluge of rain, a little repose before entering on the final struggle.
On the 24th he pitched his camp, and allowed his men to rest till the
morning of the 25th, when, leaving his baggage and tents under the charge
of an escort in the Alum Bagh, he resumed his march.
It is unnecessary here to describe the heroic advance of our little
army, the fierce resistance they encountered, the losses they sustained,
and the decisive victory they at length obtained; all this is matter
of history, and can never be forgotten. If we confine our attention to
the Highlanders, and the part they acted in the rescue of Lucknow, we
do so from no desire to depreciate the courage of others who shared in
the dangers of the day; our only object is to show in what way three
brave men earned for themselves the Cross of Valour and a place in Mr.
Desanges’s gallery. The Highlanders, the 90th Light Infantry, and the
Sikh Regiment of Ferozpore formed the second infantry brigade, under the
command of Colonel Hamilton, who held the temporary rank of brigadier.
After the desperate resistance of the rebels at the Char Bagh bridge
had been overcome by the gallant charge of the Madras Fusiliers, the
Highlanders received orders to advance by the Cawnpore road to the
Residency, so as to cover the passage of the troops and baggage, and
protect them while the heavy guns captured from the enemy were being
thrown into the canal. While the rest of the troops defiled to the
right, and began to thread their way through the narrow lane which led
to the Residency, the Highlanders maintained their position at the head
of the street till the camp followers, with the baggage and wounded,
had crossed the bridge. For three hours they remained there, immovable
as a rock, unshaken by the menaces of the insurgents; again and again
the rebels dashed themselves against them in overwhelming numbers, and
were driven back at the point of the bayonet; their supply of ammunition
had repeatedly to be renewed; their ranks were gradually thinned by the
murderous fire to which they were exposed; but they only drew the closer
together, and fought on as before. This, the post of danger, had been
assigned to them; they were determined to guard it to the last.
Maddened by their own losses and the continued resistance of the
Highlanders, the rebels had recourse to another mode of attack. Two brass
9-pounders were dragged forward, and brought to bear on the Highlanders;
not a moment was to be lost; the first discharge would leave furrows of
dead and wounded in their ranks. Herbert Macpherson, the adjutant of the
regiment, proved himself equal to the occasion. This brave young officer
was endeared to the men from family connexion and personal character;
he was a son of that Colonel Macpherson who commanded the regiment for
many years, and shared their dangers in almost every part of the globe.
He was almost a son of the regiment, and the feeling of attachment which
the men cherished toward him on his father’s account, was increased by
the considerate kindness with which he discharged the duties of adjutant.
He had only to lead the way, and they would follow him anywhere. There
were the guns drawn up in front of them, ready to pour forth their
murderous fire; Macpherson leaped forward, waving his sword; he was not
left alone; others were soon by his side; then came a rush, a cheer,
a brief conflict, and all was over. The two guns were seized by brawny
arms, and hurled into the canal: after this the Highlanders calmly
resumed their former position, and continued to act on the defensive.
The impetuosity of their attack was only equalled by their firmness
under fire, and these two qualities are rarely united in the same men.
The non-combatant officers were animated by the same spirit, and proved
themselves worthy of the regiment to which they belonged. Numbers of
wounded Highlanders were scattered along the streets of Lucknow in the
course of that bloody conflict, and the two surgeons of the regiment
frequently risked their own lives in ministering to their wants and
superintending their removal. Ten officers and one-fourth of the men
were killed or wounded; the skill, the courage, and the energy of the
surgeons were taxed to the utmost. Soldiers are not ungrateful, and the
Highlanders proved on this occasion that they could appreciate the calm
courage of M’Master, who bound up their wounds while the bullets of the
enemy were whistling around his head, as well as the dashing bravery of
Macpherson, who led them on when they seized the two guns and hurled them
into the canal. Two Victoria Crosses were awarded to the regiment, and
it was left to the corps to decide who were the men most worthy to wear
them. One was assigned to Lieutenant and Adjutant (now Major) Macpherson,
for the deed of distinguished courage which we have already described;
the other was bestowed, by the universal acclamation of the soldiers,
on Assistant-Surgeon Valentine M’Master, for the devoted gallantry with
which he risked his life in binding up the wounds and securing the
retreat of the men under his charge disabled by the bullets of the enemy.
The same honour was afterwards conferred on Dr. J. Jee, the surgeon of
the regiment, who had displayed the greatest courage and humanity in
bringing in and attending to the wounded.
In two months the Highlanders had fought twelve battles; in four days
they had lost _one-third_ of their number; their march through the
streets was like a march through a sea of fire; but onward they went,
dauntless, though not unscathed. And now they are within the walls of
the Residency, where the ladies are pressing around them, and rendering
thanks to heaven for their deliverance, and yielding their babes to the
fond caresses of those stern warriors whose eyes, still glaring with
the fury of battle, are soon suffused with tears, as they restore them
to their mothers and turn aside to talk of comrades who have fallen, or
of the dear ones they have left behind. The Rachels of Lucknow had no
occasion that night to weep for their children because they were not; a
strong hand and a mighty arm had brought them deliverance; and many a lip
trembled with the grateful prayer of the Hebrew warrior: “Not unto us,
not unto us, O Lord! but unto Thy name do we give glory.”
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