Twice he thus called out and got no reply. After the third time Sir Henry said in a low tone: “I am killed.”
His bed was being soaked with blood. Some soldiers of the 32nd soon came in and placed Sir Henry in a chair. When the surgeon came he saw that human aid was useless. Lucknow and England had lost what could never be replaced. For all who ever came in contact with Sir Henry Lawrence recognized in him a man of unstained honour, a lover of justice, pure, unselfish and noble. His successor, Brigadier Inglis, wrote of him: “Few men have ever possessed to the same extent the power which he enjoyed of winning the hearts of all those with whom he came in contact.” He gained also by his frankness the trust of the natives, who said of him: “When Sir Henry looks twice up to heaven and once down to earth, and then strokes his beard, he knows what to do.” His dying wish was that, if any epitaph were placed on his tomb, it should be this: “Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty.” He had indeed tried to do his duty towards the defence of Lucknow. Three weeks before anyone else thought of a siege he began to collect supplies, and even paid for them much over their market value. He collected and buried much treasure in the grounds of the Residency; he stored up in underground cellars guns and mortars, shot and shell and grain; strengthened the outworks, and cleared the ground of small buildings around. Even then the assailants and the besieged were quite close to each other, and no man on either side dared expose himself to fire his musket: they fired through loopholes in the walls. This placed a never-ending strain on the besieged, for they never knew when to expect an assault. On the one side of a narrow lane were myriads of swarthy foemen, on the other side a few hundreds, who were bound always to be ready, day and night, to meet a storming party. All through the siege officers and men alike stood sentry; all bore an equal burden of toil and fighting.
The stench, too, from dead animals was dreadful: they had so few servants, and the fighting men were so harassed, that they were helpless to bury them.
Heavy showers night and day kept the garrison drenched to the skin, and they had no change of clothes. The sick and wounded were much crowded, as they could not use the upper story of the hospital because it was under fire of round shot.
August 12.—A letter to General Havelock, rolled up and put inside a quill, was despatched by the hands of an old woman. She left the position about 9 p.m., and it was hoped she would be permitted to pass the enemy’s sentries. During the past forty-five days they had sent by different hands, in a similar manner, some twenty letters. To only one of these was any reply received.
August 18.—At daylight the enemy exploded a large mine under one of the principal posts. The three officers and three sentries on the top of the house were blown up into the air; the guard below were all buried in the ruins. The officers, though much stunned, recovered and escaped. A clear breach had been made in our defences to the extent of 30 feet in breadth. One of the enemy’s leaders sprung on the top of the breach and called on his comrades to follow; but when he and another had been shot the rest hung back. Boxes, doors, planks, etc., were rapidly carried down to make cover to protect the men.
August 23.—There was work nightly for at least 300 men, as they had the defences to repair daily, mines to countermine, guns to remove, corpses to bury, rations to serve out. The Europeans were not capable of much exertion, as from want of sleep, hard work, and constant exposure, their bodily strength was greatly diminished. The ladies had to be removed, as the upper story of Mr. Gubbins’ house was no longer safe, owing to the number of round shot through it. It was difficult to find quarters for them, every place being so crowded, and the ladies were already four and five together in small, badly ventilated native dwellings. Dreadful smells pervaded the whole place, from the half-buried bodies of men, horses, and bullocks, and also from the drains.
September 9.—During the night a shell exploded in a room occupied by a lady and some children, and, though almost every article in the room was destroyed, they all escaped unhurt. Finding that the enemy were rapidly mining towards the Cawnpore battery, they sprung a mine containing 200 pounds of powder. The effect was tremendous, and it evidently astonished the enemy to see their miners going up skywards in fragments.
As the uniforms wore out they clothed themselves as they could. One officer had a coat made out of an old billiard cloth; another wore a shirt made out of a floor-cloth. They had no tobacco, and had to smoke dried tea-leaves.