I have mentioned the Naval Brigade in connection with the attack on the Shah Nujeef. Peel’s gallant bluejackets, whom we last met doing great things at Sebastopol, had been hurried to India from their station at Hong Kong, immediately news arrived of the outbreak of the Mutiny; and after smelling powder at Cawnpore and other places they accompanied the relief army to Lucknow.
Right up under the frowning walls of the mosque did they run their useful 24-pounders, as coolly as if “laying alongside an enemy’s frigate,” to use Sir Colin’s own words. But the guns were not powerful enough to break down the masonry. Despite the obvious hopelessness of the task, however, Lieutenant Young and Seaman William Hall (a negro, be it noted) fearlessly stood by their gun, reloading and pounding away at the wall under a most deadly fire, and only desisting when the order eventually came to fall back. They both got the V.C. for that gallant action.
The other Crosses that fell to the Naval men in the same fight were won by a young lieutenant whose name still figures on the Active List as Admiral Sir Nowell Salmon, G.C.B., and Boatswain’s Mate John Harrison. These two pluckily volunteered to climb trees that overlooked the mosque walls and reconnoitre the rebel position, at the same time picking off the sepoys with their rifles. A mark at once for the rebel sharpshooters, who quickly espied them, both men drew upon themselves a heavy fire, but though they were wounded they accounted for several mutineers ere clambering down from their perches, and secured valuable information for their commander.
In the taking of Lucknow young Lieutenant Henry Havelock, son of the famous General, played a prominent part, leading a storming party that captured a palace close to the rebel citadel, the Kaisarbagh. But he had won his V.C. before this, at Cawnpore, where he captured a rebel gun in the face of an appalling fire; and at the Charbagh Bridge, Lucknow, while serving under his father.
His action at the latter place was characteristic of his impulsive bravery. Neill, who held a position by the bridge, would not move to “rush” the sepoys and their guns without orders from Outram. Wheeling his horse, it is said, young Havelock rode off in the direction of the General and his staff, but soon after turning the bend in the road he galloped hastily back to trick Neill into taking action. Giving a salute, he said, “You are to carry the bridge at once, sir!”
Taking this to be an order from the General, Neill gave the word to advance, and Arnold of the Madras Fusiliers led his men forward in a gallant charge, being shot down almost immediately. A storm of grape swept the bridge clear, and Havelock found himself the only officer—and almost the only man—standing there alive. With a wave of his sword and a shout to the rest of the Fusiliers whom the guns had checked, he led a second charge, and this time the bridge was won.
Young Havelock’s gallantry in the Indian Mutiny marked him out for a distinguished career, and he did not disappoint those who prophesied thus concerning him. As is well known, he became in after years Lieutenant-General Sir Henry Havelock-Allan, Bart., K.C.B.
Among the many other pictures of the Mutiny that present themselves vividly to my mind is one of a young Fusilier officer swimming the river Goomtee in plain sight of any sepoys who might be upon the farther bank, and audaciously climbing up the parapet of a rebel battery. It had been shelled by our troops, but with what success was not known. He stands there on the wall signalling to his impatient comrades that it is abandoned, but it is some time ere their officers will let them follow where he has led. The Highlanders and Sikhs get across the river at last, however, and with a laugh at the discomfited sepoys who have been vainly trying to “pot” him from an adjacent battery, the young officer—Butler by name—hands over his captured position to the new-comers, and swims back to his own regiment.
That was a V.C. exploit, and it holds the imagination as much as does that which won the decoration for Ensign Patrick Roddy of the Bengal Army. The scene of Roddy’s achievement was Kuthirga, and the date September 27, 1858. At the close of an action with a rebel force at this place some of the cavalry were kept at bay for some time by a determined sepoy subadar of a revolted regiment, a tall, powerful fellow. This man knelt alone in the middle of the road and with musket at shoulder covered his enemies.
While his sowars hung back, afraid to face that gleaming barrel, young Roddy did not hesitate. Spurring his horse, he charged straight upon the rebel subadar, who firing at close range brought down the ensign’s horse. Roddy had some difficulty in freeing himself from the stirrups as he lay on the ground, but ere the sepoy could get really to grips with him he managed to draw his sword, and in the tussle ran the fellow through the body. Sir Hope Grant had had occasion previously to remark on the young ensign’s conspicuous bravery, and he took care that this special feat was fittingly rewarded.