(From a Photograph by Frith and Company, Reigate.)
Greathed put his troops in motion at once, and on the 10th of October, after two forced marches, filed over the Jumna, passed through Agra, and pitched his camp on the other side. His wearied soldiers little thought they were on the very threshold of a battle. He had been told that the enemy had retreated. So much for the intelligence of Colonel Fraser. A crowd of sight seers followed the soldiers to the Native Infantry parade ground, a fine open plain. Many of the troops went to sleep immediately, and officers rode off to see friends in the fort. Few tents were up, the baggage was coming in, when suddenly a round shot crashed through the camp; then another, and finally a salvo from twelve guns. The sight-seers fled at the first gun; but the war-worn and war-trained troops sprang to arms with admirable alacrity, turning out with such clothes as they had on. The enemy had surprised the camp, but he was surprised in turn, for our artillery soon answered his fire; our infantry and horse were promptly in motion. The whole force closed with the enemy, and delivered such stunning blows that he fled nine miles, almost without a halt to breathe. On his track, swift and sharp, were the horse batteries and cavalry. This splendid little action relieved Agra. After resting three days, a rest well deserved, the column, now under Hope Grant, moved out for Cawnpore, which it reached on the 26th of October.
The Punjab army had thus sent help towards, instead of receiving aid from, Calcutta. Matters had greatly changed in this quarter since we left Havelock a victor at Bithoor in August; and how the change had been brought about we must now narrate. The reader will remember that we left the small garrison of Lucknow beleaguered in its extemporised lines by the rebel force of Oude; and that we narrated the first campaign of Havelock to relieve the garrison, and its failure. The result of that campaign simply enabled us to recover Cawnpore, and to show the mutineers that we had still power to rout them in the open field; and this was an immense gain at that time. We have now to recount the story of the defence of the Lucknow Residency and its various outposts, and then to show how the noble garrison was first succoured by Havelock and Outram, and finally rescued by Sir Colin Campbell.
The defeat of the British forces at Chinhut, the abandonment of the Muchee Bowun, the defection of all but a few hundreds of the native troops, the suddenness of the disaster, created great confusion. The position occupied consisted of a number of buildings around the Residency. The defences begun early in June were still incomplete. There were large gaps at vital points. The engineers had been permitted to level only a few of the surrounding houses, and this only on the north side facing the river. Hence the enemy, as soon as he closed around, was able to occupy the near houses, and from these, as well as from the more distant buildings, the vast palaces and stronger houses, to open at once, and maintain almost without intermission, a terrible fire of shot, shell, and musketry. Consequently, the defences had to be completed under fire; and had the enemy shown the least courage, he might have stormed in at more than one point; but, strong in numbers, he was weak in bravery, and he feared to grapple at close quarters, even with the few hundreds encircled by his fire. The position occupied was a piece of table land, on the crown of which stood the Residency. The ground fell sharply towards the river, and all along the northern face ran a low rampart, eked out with sand-bags, and having a ditch in front. The north-eastern and eastern fronts consisted of lines of buildings connected by barricades and banks of earth. Here were the hospital, the Treasury, the Bailey Guard, a strong gateway well banked up with earth, Dr. Fayrer's house and enclosures, the Financial Garrison House and wall, Sago's house, and Anderson's house, which was entrenched and formed the south-eastern angle of the position. Then, looking south, came the Cawnpore Battery, so named because it swept the Cawnpore Road. From this point the line of available buildings trended in a westerly direction, until the house of Mr. Gubbins was reached. This was made by that energetic civil servant into a very strong post at the eleventh hour. The western face of the position was the series of houses connected with the north face by an entrenchment running along the brow of the high land on that side. Within the outer line were inner posts, some of which commanded those in front, and at suitable points batteries were constructed and armed with guns. Nevertheless, it was soon found that there were few spots into which the projectiles of the enemy did not make way. In fact the whole position was encircled by hosts of foes, who, from batteries placed within a hundred yards, from houses still nearer, from the roofs and upper storeys of the lofty and more distant palaces on the east, kept up an incessant hail of shot.
The garrison consisted of the men of the 32nd Foot, under Brigadier Inglis, portions of the 13th and 48th Native Infantry, some Sikhs of the 71st, many officers of the mutinied regiments, the civil servants of the East India Company, and several merchants: in all 1,692 men, of whom 765 were natives. The force of the assailants varied in numbers. Always formidable, never less than 30,000 men, the nucleus of whom were the Oude Sepoys, the number sometimes rose to 100,000. Chiefs came in from the country districts, bringing their retainers, stayed as long as they deemed expedient, and went away. Then Havelock's advance drew off a portion of the investing force for a long period. Nevertheless, the active operations of the siege went on without cessation for nearly four months. The investment all this time was so strictly maintained that until after the arrival of Outram and Havelock in September, only one messenger, Ungud by name, was able to go out with despatches and return.
Within the first week of the siege the enemy had established batteries on every side. He had also manned the houses. The round shot and shell brought down the walls of the larger buildings, and the bullets fell in every part of the place like rain. It was only by keeping close under shelter that any one escaped. In some spots balls fell so thickly that soldiers and officers crossing the space on duty, were obliged to run at speed. Many refused to run, and of these not a few fell, sacrificed to an excessive spirit of honour. It was this perpetual fire, and not the assaults of the enemy, that caused the greatest losses. The brave men among the besiegers were few. They would lead an assault and fall, and then, instead of pressing the charge home, their companions would run back to the first cover. Strict watch had to be kept night and day, and the sentries would often fire at anything mistaken for a dark form. At night the garrison were compelled, not only to repair damages, but to bury the dead, and not only the dead bodies of their comrades, and of women and children, but of the cattle and horses—the latter at first numerous—that fell under the enemy's fire. They had to cook their own food, for there were few servants in the lines, and their food soon became scanty. Fortunately they had an abundance of guns and an immense supply of ammunition. They had, also, the one thing needful—a stoutness of heart that never failed, a determination to perish rather than yield. Even the sick soldiers came out of hospital of their own accord, looking like ghosts of men, and when reproved and ordered back again, nobly replied, "Well, sir, in these times a man must do his best." The ladies and women shared in the labours and the dangers, ready to cook for the strong, and to attend on the sick; and the virtues of the tender sex never shone out more brightly than in this siege.
Up to the 20th of July the enemy contented himself with keeping up an incessant fire of cannon and musketry, to which with musketry and cannon we replied. They had been busy underground. They had begun to mine. Their first effort was against the Redan. On the morning of the 20th they sprang their mine, but it did no harm. "As soon as the smoke had cleared away," writes Brigadier Inglis in his famous report, "the enemy boldly advanced under cover of a tremendous fire of cannon and musketry, with the object of storming the Redan; but they were received with such a heavy fire, that after a short struggle they fell back with much loss. A strong column advanced at the same time to attack Innes' post, and came on to within ten yards of the palisades, affording to Lieutenant Loughnan—13th Native Infantry, who commanded the position—and his brave garrison, composed of gentlemen of the uncovenanted service, a few of her Majesty's 32nd Foot and the 13th Native Infantry, an opportunity of distinguishing themselves, which they were not slow to avail themselves of, and the enemy were driven back with great slaughter. The insurgents made minor attacks at almost every outpost, but were invariably defeated; and at two p.m. they ceased their attempts to storm the place, although their musketry fire and cannonading continued to harass us unceasingly as usual."
The action thus described was a very severe one. The enemy, in more than one place, got close under the defences, and some among our volunteers, especially the half-castes, engaged in a war of insults with the enemy, in which our own Sepoys joined. The defenders were few, the assailants many, but in no place did the latter penetrate the lines. After this struggle the old state of things recurred,—a ceaseless cannonade and fusilade, constant deaths and wounds, sleepless watchfulness. Day after day passed with a horrible monotony, varied only by the deaths of friends. Still the garrison kept up its courage, and stood ever ready to fight. The besiegers were again at work underground, and we had begun to countermine, doing considerable damage to the works of the enemy. But on the 10th of August they fired a mine on the south side, which entirely destroyed the defences of the place for the space of twenty feet, and blew in a wall, forming a breach "through which a regiment could have advanced in perfect order." Another mine was sprung on the east side, and a general attack commenced. A few went gallantly up to the first breach, but fell under a flank fire. On the eastern side some ran up under the walls, and laid hold of the bayonets through the loopholes: these were soon shot down. Another party attacked the Cawnpore Battery. They rushed on with fixed bayonets and trailed arms. They dashed through the stockade, and reached the mound in front of the inner ditch; but no farther; the fire in front and flank was too sharp and telling; the leading men all fell. Again and again the chiefs cried, "Come on, the place is taken!" but those who obeyed were soon driven back. About a hundred got under the Cawnpore Battery, carrying ladders; but a few hand grenades, dropped among them, sent them flying.
In these encounters the enemy lost immense numbers, the killed alone on the 10th amounting to 470 men, by the admission of the natives themselves. "On the 18th of August," says the brigadier's report, "the enemy sprang another mine in front of the Sikh lines with very fatal effect. Captain Orr, Lieutenants Mecham and Soppitt, who commanded the small body of drummers composing the garrison, were blown into the air; but providentially returned to earth with no further injury than a severe shaking. The garrison, however, were not so fortunate. No less than eleven men were buried alive under the ruins, whence it was impossible to extricate them, owing to the tremendous fire kept up by the enemy from houses situated not ten yards in front of the breach. The explosion was followed by a general assault of a less determined nature than the two former efforts, and the enemy were consequently repulsed without much difficulty. But they succeeded, under cover of the breach, in establishing themselves in one of the houses in our position, from which they were driven in the evening by the bayonets of her Majesty's 32nd and 84th Foot." The enemy made one more serious assault, this time on the 5th of September. He sprang two mines in succession, and strove to storm into the place. He brought up scaling ladders, and tried to mount, but could not stand against the fire of musketry and the explosion of hand grenades. On this, as on other occasions, he was routed with immense slaughter.
But these actions were not what the garrison had most to dread. The glory of the defence did not lie in these fierce combats, but in the unfaltering fortitude which enabled all to bear the incessant fire, the daily losses, the horrid stench, the ever-present dread of mines, the absence of the common conveniences of life, the want of a knowledge of the events occurring in the outer world, the fear lest all the natives should desert. The unceasing cannonade knocked down the walls, and tore through and through some of the buildings. It seemed as if, by sheer force of heavy shot, the enemy would level the defences in one common ruin. But it is astonishing what an amount of cannonading a clump of well-built houses will bear. The enemy, fortunately, did not possess a good supply of shells, so that the arrival of these destructive missiles was comparatively rare. We had shells, but no howitzer to fire them from, and to supply this want, Lieutenant Bonham ingeniously rigged a carriage for a mortar. It was called "the ship," and did good service in horizontal shell firing. The history of the mining operations is not the least remarkable. The enemy was ever employed in digging and mining all round the place, and hence we were compelled to countermine. Shafts were sunk and galleries run out in the direction of the enemy's mines, that direction being discovered by close observation above, and intense listening under, ground. In this very severe work the Sikhs and Hindostanees behaved extremely well. As there was more skill in the garrison than in the rebel army, so the former were more fortunate in their mines.