CHAPTER XII.
INDIA.—THE DEFENCE OF THE DHOOLIES.
In the preceding chapters I have told of many heroes who have won imperishable glory at the cannon’s mouth, “i’ the imminent deadly breach”; at the head of charging squadrons; or in Homeric personal combat. Valiant men were they all, and worthy of high admiration; but I come now to speak of other brave men, whose deeds though less ostentatious should appeal to our imagination no less forcibly—the devoted surgeons of our Army.
In the bead-roll of Britain’s heroes there are no more honoured names than theirs, and very high up among them I would place those of Surgeons Jee, McMaster, Home, and Bradshaw. Their work was not to lead storming parties or join in the press of battle, but to follow in the wake of the fight, to relieve the sufferings of the wounded, to bind up shattered limbs and bandage the ghastly hurts that round-shot, sabre, and musket had inflicted in the swirl of evil human passions thus let loose.
It was work that demanded devotion and courage of the highest order, for it was carried on mostly under fire, when bullets rained pitilessly around, and the very hand that one moment eased a sufferer’s pain might the next itself be stilled in death. Let the tale of what was done in Lucknow streets on that historic September day in 1857 when Havelock and Outram fought their way into the besieged city, testify to the pluck and noble self-sacrifice of which our Army doctors are capable at duty’s call.
Surgeon Joseph Jee was attached to the 78th Highlanders, the old “Ross-shire Buffs,” now known (with the 72nd Foot) as the Seaforth Highlanders. He had followed his regiment to Cawnpore to avenge Nana Sahib’s ghastly massacre, and thence to Lucknow, which, under the gallant Henry Lawrence, was holding out until relief came.
From the Alumbagh, the pleasure-house that was built by a Begum of the ex-King of Oudh about two miles out of the city, and was now garrisoned by some 12,000 sepoys, the relieving force, as is well known, fought their way steadily across the Charbagh Bridge, and so on to the Chutter Munzil Palace and the Bailey Guard Gate, and eventually gained the Residency itself.
It was on the morning of the 25th of September that Lucknow was actually reached. At the Charbagh Palace, near the bridge, the 78th Highlanders were left to hold that position, while the main body threaded its way through the narrow, tortuous lanes leading to the Residency, and here Surgeon Jee and Assistant-Surgeon McMaster quickly found work for their hands. All the streets and houses in the vicinity were strongly occupied by mutineers. Desperate charges had to be made to carry the rebel guns which poured a devastating fire upon our troops, and though the cannon were captured and toppled over into the canal, the casualties were exceedingly heavy.
While the wounded remained to receive attention from the busy doctors, the regiment, following up its last attack, disappeared round the bend of the canal, and Jee and his assistants found themselves suddenly exposed to the enemy’s fire. Having obtained some men to act as bearers, the surgeon got his patients lifted up and carried to where a few dhoolies were. These were filled in no time, one of them by Captain Havelock, son of the General, who was badly hit in the arm; the rest of the wounded were placed in carts drawn by bullocks. The latter, however, met with a heartrending fate ere they had gone far; for the sick train coming to a standstill in the road where it was blocked, all the occupants of the carts were massacred by sepoys before their comrades’ eyes.
The regiment was caught up at last, and a company under Captain Halliburton detailed to guard the dhoolies. But misfortune dogged the little party’s steps. They lost their way in the city, were led by a blundering guide right into an enemy’s battery, which shelled them mercilessly, and wandered about for hours continually under fire, until they took refuge in the Moti-Mahal (the Pearl Palace). Here was a square courtyard having sheds all round it and two gateway entrances. As it was already packed with soldiers, camp followers and camels, the surgeons were hard put to it to find accommodation for their wounded.