FROM THE PAINTING BY A. SOLOMON IN THE POSSESSION OF THE LEICESTER CORPORATION ART GALLERY.

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MEMORIAL AT THE WELL, CAWNPORE. (From a Photograph by Frith & Co.)

The reader will remember that the 8th of June was a day of disaster in the history of the Oude mutinies, and that from this day Lucknow alone remained in the hands of the British; and even this was held by a precarious tenure. Sir Henry Lawrence, seeing himself alone, and observing no signs of prompt support from any quarter, soon began to fortify the Residency. At first he contemplated the occupation of a larger position. He garrisoned and fortified the Muchee Bhowun, a strong fort commanding the iron bridge; and his military police held several parts of the town. At a later period he found how necessary it was that he should contract his lines, bring all his troops in from the cantonments, and make himself as strong as he could around the Residency. Before he came to that conclusion the work of preparation and provisioning went on with ardour under a burning sun. A large gateway, from the top of which the Residency enclosure was commanded, was blown down. Many lacs of rupees were buried, to save the trouble of guarding them. Upwards of 200 pieces of ordnance, many of large calibre, were found, and with great labour brought in. Neighbouring houses were cleared away or unroofed. Large bodies of coolies were kept at work upon the defences, which now began to assume shape and order and connection. The racket court was full of forage; the church was crammed with grain; the fuel, stacked in vast piles, formed a rampart in front of the Residency. Every day the volunteer cavalry were drilled, and the civilians, merchants, clerks, were organised, and posts were assigned them. The heat was almost insupportable. Cholera, small-pox, fever, broke out. Evil news came in day after day. Finally, the troops were withdrawn from the cantonments and placed in the Residency and Muchee Bhowun. All this time the courts had sat and business went on, malefactors, traitors, mutineers, were tried and executed, and order was maintained. Patrols went out on the road to Cawnpore and Fyzabad. The news of the massacres of the Futtehghur fugitives, and of the Cawnpore garrison, and of officers on all sides, came in; and Colonel Neill reported his arrival at Allahabad, and promised to move up as soon as he could. A price was set upon Nana Sahib—£10,000 was offered for him, dead or alive.

For three weeks the Oude mutineers had been gathering at Nawabgunge, on the Fyzabad road, about twenty-five miles from Lucknow. Sir Henry Lawrence thought it would be desirable to attack them when he heard they were marching on the city. Keeping his intention secret, he collected a force consisting of four European and six Oude guns, and one 8-inch howitzer, the whole under Major Simons; thirty-six European and eighty Sikh horse; 300 of the 32nd Foot, and 220 Sepoys, the faithful few who had not mutinied. With these he marched, and his advance guard fell in with the enemy near Chinhut. They were in great strength, a complete army, having in the field cavalry, infantry, and artillery. The mutineers began the fray by a heavy fire of cannon, and then extending their wings, bore down on both flanks of the British. The volunteer cavalry charged boldly, but the Sikhs fled. The Oude gunners abandoned their pieces. The mutineers pressing on, turned our flank completely, and repulsed the 32nd in an attempt to drive them out of a village. The combat was now lost, and Sir Henry ordered a retreat. All fell back in confusion, leaving the howitzer behind. A body of horsemen tried to cut them off, but the volunteer cavalry, careless of odds, charged and routed them. Agonised with thirst, for the water-carriers had deserted, our little force fell back, turning and firing as often as they could, covered by the gallant volunteer horse, and so reached the iron bridge, and filed over into the city. They had lost 200 men killed and wounded (112 Europeans being among the slain), and four guns were missing. The pursuit was only checked by the fire of an 18-pounder from the redan, which commanded the iron bridge. The mutineers had brought into the field 5,000 infantry, 800 horse, and 160 gunners. As a sequel to this unhappy adventure, it may be stated that the military police and the companies of Oude regiments in the city at once mutinied. The troops from Chinhut crossed the river lower down, and invested the Residency. It was then found that the detachments in the Muchee Bhowun would be required to defend the Residency. But the enemy were in force between the two. No messenger could pass. In this crisis, at great risk, for the enemy kept up a heavy fire, four officers rigged a telegraph on the roof of the Residency, and thus sent orders that the Muchee Bhowun should be evacuated and blown up. That night the feat was achieved. The garrison had just reached the Residency, and were filing in, when a tremendous explosion shook the earth—240 barrels of powder and 594,000 rounds of ammunition had destroyed the Muchee Bhowun.

The next day, July 2nd, Sir Henry Lawrence was mortally wounded by a piece of shell, and died on the 4th. Shot and shell raining on the Residency, confusion all around, were the accompaniments of his last hours. He was not only an able man, but a good man, with a heart abounding in charity for all. Few men have left a brighter track on the dark stream of Indian history. Schools and asylums are as much his monuments as deeds of statecraft, and it may be that the Lawrence Asylum for European children, up in the hills of the North-West, will bear his name vividly to a posterity which will have only a faint idea of the early administration of the Punjab.