THE HIGHLANDERS CAPTURING THE GUNS AT CAWNPORE. (See p. [221].)
Suddenly the enemy became aware of the object of the manœuvre, as he caught glimpses, through breaks in the wood, of a column moving behind the trees. He opened fire. Our troops, without heeding shot and shell, moved silently on, until they arrived at a point parallel to the rebel position. Then they wheeled into line. The guns came up and opened fire, and the Madras riflemen once more spread out and made play with their splendid weapons. But Havelock was not the man to trifle with an advantage of position such as he had gained by his skilful march. He ordered an advance in échelon from the right. The Madras men went first in open order; the 78th Highlanders came next, then the 64th and 84th combined, and lastly the Sikhs. There were three 24-pounders on the enemy's left, well entrenched behind a village. The 78th were launched upon them. Moving up steadily under a fire of grape, until they were within eighty yards, their colonel, Hamilton, in front, the bagpipes playing in the rear, the Highlanders suddenly rent the air with a fierce shout, and, charging in, carried the village, and captured the guns, breaking the enemy's left into two parts, hurling one in confusion on the centre, and shouldering the other to the rear. In the meantime the 64th had come abreast of the Highlanders, and the Madras Fusiliers, on the other flank, had successfully encountered and defeated the rebel cavalry. Reforming the 78th, Havelock rode to the front, and pointing to the rally of the enemy on his centre round a howitzer, cried, "Now, Highlanders, another charge like that wins the day." The charge was made, and, with the aid of the 64th, the gun was captured. The Volunteer Horse, too, making a daring charge up the road, fell upon the enemy and slew many. The whole of the British force was now united again after its rough fight. The position of the enemy and several of his guns had been won, and our troops, emerging in the rear of it, reformed. The Sepoys had again rallied, with commendable promptitude, on Suktipore, a village between the two roads. From this they had to be driven. Havelock's voice was again heard animating his soldiers to renewed exertions, and again, this time unsupported by any artillery fire from our side, did those noble foot soldiers of Britain drive the foe before them. Yet again he rallied, so stubborn was he in this combat. Nana Sahib, present on the field, was seen to be encouraging his troops. He brought them up as the sun was setting, and prepared for a last effort. He still had a 24-pounder and two pieces of smaller calibre, and with these he commanded our men, now lying down, awaiting their artillery. The sun went down. There were about 900 British soldiers, only awaiting a signal from Havelock. "The final crisis," he writes, "had arrived. My artillery cattle, wearied by the length of the march, could not bring up the guns to my assistance; and the Madras Fusiliers, the 64th, 84th, and 78th detachments, formed in line, were exposed to a heavy fire from the 24-pounder on the road. I was resolved this state of things should not last; so, calling upon my men, who were lying down in line, to leap on their feet, I directed another steady advance. It was irresistible. The enemy sent round shot into our ranks, until we were within 300 yards, and then poured in grape with such precision and determination as I have seldom witnessed. But the 64th, led by Major Stirling and by my aide-de-camp [his son, Henry Havelock] who had placed himself in their front, were not to be denied. Their rear showed the ground strewed with wounded; but on they steadily and silently came; then, with a cheer, charged and captured the unwieldy trophy of their valour. The enemy lost all heart, and after a hurried fire of musketry gave way in total rout. Four of my guns came up, and completed their discomfiture by a heavy cannonade; and as it grew dark, the roofless barracks of our artillery were dimly descried in advance, and it was evident that Cawnpore was once more in our possession."
The next morning spies brought in the dreadful news that Nana Sahib had retreated from Cawnpore after butchering all the prisoners. Havelock immediately sent forward an advanced guard to test the truth of this, and as they came up to the old cantonments, an explosion shook the earth. It was the old magazine which the troopers of the enemy's rear-guard had fired. The army now entered the place. It was a memorable day, the 17th of July, when Cawnpore was recovered, for the horrors it brought to light kindled to an intensity beyond conception the passions of the British soldiers.
For the first thing done was to visit the entrenchment, and the house in which the prisoners had been confined. At the sight thereof strong men wept, and a fierce thirst for vengeance seized them and made them terrible in battle. From subsequent inquiries, it appeared that Nana Sahib had preserved the lives of 47 of the women and children from Futtehghur, and 163 of the old Cawnpore garrison. These he kept prisoners. "The captives," writes Captain Thomson, "were fed with only one meal a day of dhâl and chupatties, and these of the meanest sort; they had to eat out of earthen pans, and the food was served by menials of the lowest caste (mehter), which in itself was the greatest indignity that Easterns could cast upon them. They had no furniture, no beds, not even straw to lie down upon, but only coarse bamboo matting of the roughest make. The house in which they were incarcerated had formerly been occupied as the dwelling of a native clerk; it comprised two principal rooms, each about twenty feet long and ten broad, and besides these, a number of dark closets rather than rooms, which had been originally intended for the use of native servants; in addition to these, a courtyard, about fifteen yards square."
After the defeat of his troops on the Pandoo Nuddy—that is, on the 15th of July—Nana Sahib ordered all the prisoners to be slain. It must have been anger and hate and a love of cruelty which prompted this dastardly act. When our troops arrived, Mr. Sherer, the newly-appointed magistrate, began an investigation, from which we learn the facts as nearly as they can be known. "When Mr. Sherer," writes Captain Thomson, "entered the house of horrors, in which the slaughter of the women had been perpetrated, the rooms were covered with human gore; articles of clothing that had belonged to women and children—collars, combs, shoes, caps, and little round hats—were found steeped in blood; the walls were spattered with blood, the mats on the floor saturated; the plaster sides of the place were scored with sword-cuts, and pieces of long hair were all about the room. No writing was upon the walls, and it is supposed that the inscriptions, which soon became numerous, were put there by the troops, to infuriate each other in the work of revenging the atrocities that had been perpetrated there. There is no doubt that the death of the unhappy victims was accomplished by the sword, and that their bodies, stripped of all clothing, were thrown into an adjacent well. A Bible was found that had belonged to Miss Blair, in which she had written; '27th June—Went to the boats. 29th.—Taken out of boats. 30th.—Taken to Sevadah Kothi; fatal day.'" Such was the scene which tore the hearts of our valiant soldiers, and the recital of which made the whole world shudder. It is related that the Highlanders, on coming to a body which had been barbarously exposed, and which was supposed to be that of Sir Hugh Wheeler's daughter, cut off the tresses, and counting the hairs, swore that for every hair a rebel should die.
The reaction which followed his great successes, combined with the critical position in which he found himself, for a moment depressed the spirit of the undaunted Havelock. Here was this fearful massacre; here was news from Lucknow of the death of Henry Lawrence; from Delhi, of the death of General Barnard; from Agra, of a defeat of the troops there; and from Bithoor, that Nana Sahib had garrisoned that stronghold with 5,000 men. But one night's brief repose restored to the general his wonted calmness. Getting news of the march of a reinforcement, under Neill from Allahabad, he, on the 12th, selected a situation for a fort, commanding the passage of the Ganges, and prepared all things for an attempt to cut his way to Lucknow. Meanwhile Nana Sahib had evacuated Bithoor, and crossed into Oude.
On the 29th Havelock marched upon Onao. Here the rebels had occupied the ground with considerable skill. A deep swamp covered their right. Onao itself protected their left. In front was a village, and a garden entrenched like a bastion. In front of the village were enclosures. Thus the general found that he could not turn the position on either hand. He was forced to assail it in front. The order was given. With ready valour the Highlanders and Fusiliers drove the enemy out of the garden. They fell back on the village; their fire was hot; the 64th had to be brought up; and, all charging together, the village was stormed and the guns captured. This enabled Havelock to interpose his force between the enemy and Onao, towards which town they were hurrying. Firmly lodged on a piece of dry ground in the midst of swamps, and assailable only on a narrow front, Havelock saw his advantage, and allowing the enemy to come near, he shot them to pieces as they crowded on the road. The Oude native artillery, which had been carefully drilled, behaved with great gallantry; many gunners served their pieces to the last, and fell beside them under the rifles of the Fusiliers and the bayonets of the British Linesmen. Havelock stood victor, and master of fifteen of the enemy's guns.
The troops, after a halt of three hours to rest and eat, once more marched. The rebels had rallied at Busserutgunge. This was a walled town. The gate facing our troops was entrenched, and mounted four guns, and was flanked by towers. The road to Lucknow, running through the place, emerged at the opposite gate, and then was carried on a causeway through one of those large pieces of water called jheels. Concentrating a fire of artillery on the gate, Havelock held the Fusiliers and Highlanders ready to storm it, while he detached the 64th to the left to turn the town and cut off the retreat of the enemy. While the guns were in action, the storming column lay down; but when the fire of the defence slackened, and the Sepoys, frightened at the flank movement, began to run, the Highlanders and Fusiliers, with stern shouts, sprang up and carried the gate at a bound. The enemy fled over the causeway—for the 64th had not come up—and the battle was won.
But Havelock was destined to disappointment. A mutiny at Dinapore had prevented the arrival of the 5th and 90th regiments. He had lost nearly a hundred men on the 29th; a third of his ammunition was expended; cholera, smiting down scores, was in his camp; he had little or no spare transport; so, with a bitter feeling, he fell back to Mungulwar. Here he received five more guns and 257 men, but was obliged to disarm his native gun Lascars. The enemy—mutineers from Oude and Saugor, in Central India—was now gathering in force at Bithoor, and Neill was apprehensive of an attack; but Havelock, determined to try again, told Neill to hold his communications, and on the 4th of August marched to Onao, and on the 5th once more to Busserutgunge. Here the enemy were again. Knowing the ground better this time, the general, while he prepared to cannonade the front of the village, sent a force round their left flank. When this force emerged, he began the cannonade. The effect was instantaneous. Smitten by a point-blank fire of shot and shell, the rebels fled. The 64th and 84th dashed into the gate, while the Highlanders and Fusiliers and four of Maude's guns caught them as they streamed out on to the causeway. But, with great courage, the enemy rallied again in a village on both flanks. These were carried in brilliant style. The Sepoys carried off their cannon, but left 250 men on the field. Havelock could not improve his victories, because he had no cavalry. This was a fatal defect, as it gave the enemy time to rally. Our loss—so swift and able had been our movements—was only two killed and twenty-three wounded.
Yet even now Havelock could not go on. As the Oude folk defended every post, he felt that he could only reach Lucknow with a force too weak to break in, much less carry off the garrison. He heard also that the Gwalior contingent was moving up to the Jumna, and he knew that Nana Sahib was not far off in Oude, and that the mutineers at Bithoor were growing every day stronger. Therefore he once more fell back to Mungulwar. The troops were indignant, but there is no doubt the general was right. His army was the only force we had between Behar and Delhi, and he was bound not to throw it away uselessly. He, therefore, drew up at Mungulwar, entrenched it, and made good his raft bridge over the Ganges, hoping in vain that reinforcements would arrive. Neill now urged him to send over aid to drive the enemy from Bithoor, who were meditating offensive operations. Havelock then resolved to abandon Oude altogether. He had begun to re-cross the river, when he learned that 5,000 men, with artillery, had occupied Busserutgunge. He saw that if he retreated under such a threat without striking a blow, he would lose much of that moral influence his daring actions had secured. So, before crossing he turned upon his foe. Two marches brought him up to the position. Again the enemy had made a skilful choice of position; and again, by skill and courage, our troops thrust him out of it, with heavy loss to him and little to them. Thus they had been thrice beaten on this one battlefield. Having struck this heavy blow, Havelock retreated at once, and on the 13th of August crossed to the right bank of the Ganges; then the bridge was broken up, and the boats brought over to the Cawnpore side. Such was the first effort to relieve Lucknow. It failed; but it is impossible not to admire the devotion and resolution of the general and his men, who—in spite of such odds as were arrayed against them—in spite of the fervid heat and its effects fever, cholera, lassitude—had eight times encountered victoriously the enemy on the field of battle.