This one battle honour, "Lucknow," covers four distinct military operations—the memorable defence of the Residency under Sir Henry Lawrence; the first relief, or rather reinforcement, of the beleaguered garrison by Sir Henry Havelock; the final relief and withdrawal of the women and children by Sir Colin Campbell; and, lastly, the siege and capture of the city in March, 1858. With the medal granted for the Indian Mutiny clasps were issued for the Relief, the Defence, and one simply superscribed "Lucknow," which covered the final operations only. Wearers of the medal are enabled to show the distinctive part they played in the grand struggle in and around Lucknow, but survivors are now few and far between. In a very few short years there will be no wearers of the Mutiny Medal left. Whilst the men by their clasps showed the share they took in the operations, the regiments bear no distinctive mark showing the part they played. The Somerset Light Infantry and the 12th Khelat-i-Ghilzai Regiment are authorized to bear a mural crown as a distinctive honour for their defence of Jelalabad and Khelat-i-Ghilzai; the 16th Lucknow Regiment wears a battlemented gateway, to connect it with the memorable defence of the Residency; the 45th Sikhs bear the words "Defence of Arrah"; and the regiments which formed the garrison, under Sir George White, were granted the honour "Defence of Ladysmith," to differentiate them from their comrades who, under Sir Redvers Buller, effected their relief. It is true that the 32nd were made light infantry as a recognition of their conduct at Lucknow, but so little is this fact remembered that in the month of January, 1910, a leading service paper gravely asserted that the Cornwalls were given their bugles in the year 1832! Sic transit gloria mundi.
Defence of Lucknow.
Lucknow, the capital of the newly-annexed kingdom of Oude, was in 1857 a city of some 150,000 inhabitants, known to be fanatically hostile to our rule. Only the year before the Mutiny the King had been deposed, and with good cause. Misgovernment and tyranny were rampant throughout his kingdom, and we were performing a mere act of justice towards his people in removing him from power. We have not yet learnt the lesson that a nation prefers bad government under its own rulers to the best form of government under an alien administration. The unpopularity of the annexation was felt beyond the confines of Oude. A very large proportion of the sepoys of the Bengal army were recruited from this very country, and their sympathies were naturally with their fallen King.
Fortunately, Lord Dalhousie, the Governor-General responsible for the annexation, had selected one of the very best soldier-statesmen in India for the post of Chief Commissioner—Sir James Outram, a tried soldier of the Bombay army. At this moment he was absent from his post, having been selected to command the troops in the Persian Expeditionary Force. His successor, Sir Henry Lawrence, was, like Outram, a soldier—one of that gallant band of brothers whose names will last so long as does our Indian Empire. He commenced his career in the Bengal Artillery, had seen a great deal of service as a gunner, and had earned a still higher reputation in the early days of the administration of the Punjab. Fortunate it was for England that she had such a man in Lucknow. The Mutiny caused no surprise to Henry Lawrence. Fifteen years previously, in the pages of the Calcutta Review, he had predicted an attempt on the part of the pampered sepoy to gain the upper hand, but his warnings had fallen on deaf ears. Now he was ready for the emergency—ready so far as his means permitted. The garrison of Lucknow consisted of one British battalion—the 32nd (Cornwall Regiment), numbering 19 officers and 517 other ranks—one weak company of the 84th—one officer and 48 men. There were, in addition, six regiments of native infantry, two of native cavalry, and two batteries of native artillery.
The news of the mutiny at Meerut and of the capture of Delhi by the adherents of the old Mogul Emperor was known in Lucknow on May 12, and then Lawrence commenced to take steps to meet the coming storm. Measures were adopted to render the Residency defensible—no easy task. It was in the heart of the city, surrounded by a few buildings erected for the convenience of the staff of the Resident. These were in plots of ground, separated by low mud walls. Within easy range were several masonry palaces, which afforded good shelter to an enemy. It was impossible to include all of the staff houses in the scheme of defence, owing to the smallness of the garrison. All that could be done was to connect the various buildings by a breastwork, and to excavate a ditch all round. Provisions and ammunition were brought in, and all the civilians, as well as the British troops, were concentrated as near the Residency as possible.
On May 29 the native garrison threw off all semblance of loyalty, murdered their officers, including the Brigadier (Handscomb), and moved out of their lines, which they fired. They were from time to time joined by other mutineers, who had committed grievous outrages in other stations in Oude. No attack, however, was made on the Residency.
On June 29 Lawrence determined to undertake the offensive, and he moved out to Chinhut, where the mutineers were massed, to attack them. He met with a sharp reverse, losing some of his guns, whilst the wing of the 32nd, who were with him, lost 115 killed out of 300 men engaged. The following morning Lawrence blew up the magazine, containing 249 barrels of powder and 594,000 rounds of ammunition, which it was found impossible to carry into the Residency, and made final preparations for the siege. His garrison consisted of under 2,000 men, of whom 100 were civilians and 765 loyal natives—men of the mutinied regiments who had determined to throw in their lot with the Sirkar. With them were nearly 200 pensioners—men mostly past work.
It is not within the scope of this work to deal with the details of that heroic defence, where civilian vied with soldier, native with Englishman, to uphold the honour of our name; where delicately-nurtured women and the no less devoted wives of the privates shared all the dangers, all the privations, of the humblest sepoy. Many women and children died from want of the bare necessaries of life; more than one babe was shot in its mother's arms, and more than one woman fell a victim to the bullets of our foes. For a long eighty-seven days did the siege last, and then the little band under Havelock forced its way through the many thousands of the besieging force, and brought the welcome reinforcement of British bayonets to the beleaguered garrison. The figures below tell the sad tale of the severe losses which were endured by the heroic garrison of Lucknow:
Casualties in the Defence of Lucknow.