After changing the garrison at the Alum Bagh, giving a little rest to troops who had recently had much heavy marching, and receiving an addition of about 650 men[[120]] from Cawnpore, Sir Colin commenced his arduous operations on the morning of the 14th, with a miscellaneous force of about 4000 men. As he approached the Dil Koosha park, the leading troops encountered a long line of musketry-fire; he quickly sent up reinforcements; and after a running-fight of about two hours, he drove the enemy down the hill to the Martinière college, across the garden and park of the Martinière, and far beyond the canal. This was effected without any great loss on either side. Campbell had now secured the Dil Koosha (’Heart’s Delight’) and the Martinière (Martine’s college for half-caste children). Hope Grant’s brigade, flanked by Bourchier’s field-battery and Peel’s heavy guns, was brought to the side of the canal (which enters the river Goomtee close to the Martinière), where they effectually kept the enemy in check. When night came, Sir Colin found he had made a good beginning; he had not only secured the easternmost buildings of Lucknow, but he had brought with him fourteen days’ provisions for his own troops, and an equal proportion for those under Outram and Havelock; he had also brought all his heavy baggage (except tents, left at the Alum Bagh), and was therefore prepared to make a stand for several days at the Dil Koosha if necessary.
After further completing his arrangements on the 15th, and exchanging messages or signals with Havelock and Outram, the commander-in-chief resumed his operations on the 16th. Leaving every description of baggage at the Dil Koosha, and supplying every soldier’s haversack with three days’ food, he crossed the canal and advanced to the Secunder Bagh—a high-walled enclosure of strong masonry, about a hundred and twenty yards square, loopholed on all sides for musketry, and held in great force by the enemy. Opposite to it was a village at a distance of about a hundred yards, also loopholed and guarded by musketeers. After a determined struggle of two hours, during which artillery and infantry were brought to bear against them in considerable force, the enemy were driven out of the Secunder Bagh, the village, and a range of barracks hard by—all of which speedily became valuable strongholds to the conquerors. Sir Colin described this as a very desperate encounter, no less than 2000 of the enemy having fallen, chiefly after the storming of the Secunder Bagh itself by parties of the 53d and 93d regiments, aided by the 4th Punjaub infantry and a few miscellaneous troops. Indeed the enemy, well armed, crowded the Secunder Bagh in such numbers, that he said ‘there never was a bolder feat of arms’ than the storming. Captain Peel’s naval siege-train then went to the front, and advanced towards the Shah Nujeef—a domed mosque with a garden, which had been converted into a strong post by the enemy; the wall of the enclosure had been loopholed with great care; the entrance had been covered by a regular work in masonry; and the top of the building had been crowned with a parapet. Peel was aided by a field-battery and some mortars; while the village to the left had been cleared of the enemy by Brigadier Hope and Colonel Gordon. A heavy cannonade was maintained against the Shah Nujeef for no less a space than three hours. The enemy defended the post very obstinately, keeping up an unceasing fire of musketry from the mosque and the defences in the garden. At last Sir Colin ordered the place to be stormed, which was effected in an intrepid manner by the 93d Highlanders, a battalion of detachments, and the naval brigade. In his dispatch, the commander-in-chief said: ‘Captain Peel led up his heavy guns with extraordinary gallantry to within a few yards of the building, to batter the massive stone-walls. The withering fire of the Highlanders effectually covered the naval brigade from great loss; but it was an action almost unexampled in war. Captain Peel behaved very much as if he had been laying the Shannon alongside an enemy’s frigate.’
While Sir Colin and his troops were thus engaged, Havelock contributed towards the success of the general plan by the capture of a range of buildings in advance of the palace of Fureed Buksh. It had been agreed by signal and secret message, that as soon as Sir Colin should reach the Secunder Bagh, the outer wall of the advance garden of the Fureed Buksh (Havelock’s most eastern post), in which the enemy had before made several breaches, should be blown in by mines previously prepared; that two powerful batteries erected in the enclosure should then open on the insurgents in front; and that after the desired effect had been produced, the troops should storm two buildings known as the Hern Khana or Deer-house and the Engine-house. This was successfully accomplished. At about eleven o’clock, the operations began. The mines were exploded; the wall was demolished; the works beyond were shelled by mortars; two of the mines at the Hern Khana were charged with destructive effect; and the infantry—eager for a little active work after being many weeks pent up within their intrenchment—dashed through the Chuttur Munzil and carried all before them, capturing the several buildings which had been marked out by previous arrangement.
Thus ended the important operations of the 16th, sanguinary in Sir Colin’s force, but much less so in that of Havelock—operations during which the Secunder Bagh, the Shah Nujeef, the Hern Khana, the Engine-house, and many minor buildings, were captured. On the 17th, the commander-in-chief, after overcoming many obstacles, opened a communication between the canal and the left rear of a range of barracks, that facilitated his subsequent proceedings. Captain Peel meanwhile began to operate with his now famous naval brigade against a building called in the maps the Mess-house—a large structure, defended by a ditch twelve feet broad, and scarped with masonry, and by a loopholed mud-wall beyond the ditch. As a part of Sir Colin’s general plan—that of employing artillery as much as possible, to save his infantry—a cannonading was continued for several hours against this Mess-house; and then it was stormed and taken without much difficulty by various detachments of the 53d, the 90th, the Punjaubees, and other regiments. This done, the troops pressed forward with great vigour, and lined a wall that separated the Mess-house from the Motee Mehal (’Pearl Palace’). This last-named place consisted of a wide enclosure containing many buildings. Here the enemy determined to make one last desperate stand; they fought with energy and determination for an hour, but then gave way. Sir Colin’s troops broke an opening through the wall, aided by the sappers, and then they poured through, rushing onward until they reached the part of the city which for seven or eight weeks had been in the hands of Havelock. On the evening of this day the British found themselves in possession of nearly the whole river-side of Lucknow from the iron bridge to the Dil Koosha.
It may not be amiss here to mention that these operations during the second decade of November were conducted by the following officers: Sir Colin Campbell commanded the whole. General Mansfield officiated as chief of the staff. Brigadier Hope Grant was in immediate command of the column, formerly known as Greathed’s, which constituted the chief part of Sir Colin’s force. Colonel Greathed, now raised to brigadier-general as a mark of Sir Colin’s estimate of his services, commanded one of the brigades of infantry. Brigadiers Russell and Adrian Hope took two other infantry brigades. Brigadier Little commanded the cavalry, Brigadier Crauford the artillery, Lieutenant Lennox the engineers, and Captain Peel the naval brigade. The operations brought the honorary distinction of K.C.B. to Grant and Peel, who became Sir James Hope Grant and Sir William Peel. Sir Colin’s advance to the Residency, however, with the collateral struggles to which it gave rise, was severe in its results to his force, though less so than the operations of Outram and Havelock in September. He had to mourn the loss of 122 killed and 345 wounded. Out of this number there were 10 officers killed and 33 wounded. Sir Colin himself received a slight wound, but not such as to check his activity for an hour.[[121]] The loss of the enemy was frightfully severe; the exact amount was not known to the British, but it must have reached three or four thousand. They fought at the Secunder Bagh and the Shah Nujeef with a fierceness which rendered immense slaughter inevitable; for Peel’s powerful artillery swept them down fearfully.
Whether the transports of joy that animated the British in Lucknow on the 17th of November were equal in intensity to those which had broken forth fifty-three days before, can never be exactly measured; men’s emotions are not susceptible of such nice estimate. Suffice it to say, that as Inglis, on the 25th of September, had warmly grasped the hands of his deliverers Havelock and Outram; so did Outram, Havelock, and Inglis now welcome with all fervour Sir Colin Campbell and those who with him had just fought their way through the hostile streets of Lucknow. Then, when a few hours had enabled the new-comers to spread forth some of the supplies which their commissariat had provided, and the old inmates had done what little they could to render quiet eating and drinking possible—then were experienced once again the luxuries of wheaten bread, fresh butter, oranges, and other articles which are never luxuries save to those who have been long unable to obtain them. And then the feast of letters and newspapers from England was scarcely less delightful; for so close had been the investment of the Residency, that the inmates had been practically shut out from the world during the greater part of the summer and autumn.
The jubilation was, however, soon ended. Almost immediately on Sir Colin’s arrival, an announcement was made that every European was to leave Lucknow and retire to Cawnpore. Many in the garrison had fondly hoped that the success of the commander-in-chief would have restored British control over the city; that comfort was about to succeed discomfort; that officers and civilians would resume their former duties under their former easy conditions; and that the ladies and children might rest a while in quiet, to recover health and strength before retiring to Calcutta or to the Hills. But such was not to be. Campbell had come to Lucknow almost solely to liberate them; and his plan of strategy—or, more probably, the number of available troops at his command—did not permit him to leave his small force in the Oudian capital; for there was hot work to look forward to. The enemy, notwithstanding their losses, still numbered fifty thousand fighting-men in and near Lucknow, shewing no symptoms of retreat, but rather a determination to defend the rest of the city street by street. To attack them further would have been to sacrifice a force already much reduced, and to risk the necessity for a third relief. Sir Colin issued an order, therefore, not only that all were to depart, but to depart quickly. The sick and wounded were to be removed directly from the Residency to the Dil Koosha—a distance of four miles in a straight line, but five or six if it were necessary to take a circuitous route to avoid the enemy; the women and children were to follow the same route on the next day; and the bulk of the soldiers were to depart when all else had been provided for. An encampment was prepared in the Dil Koosha park, with such necessaries and comforts as could be hastily brought together for sick, wounded, women, and children. The sojourn at the Dil Koosha was to be a brief one, sufficient only for the organisation of a convoy to Cawnpore. Only a small amount of personal baggage was allowed for each person; and thus those who possessed property were forced to leave most of it behind. The property, it is true, was very scanty; but the garrison felt vexed at leaving even a trifle as a booty to the rebels. As the ordnance stores and the Company’s treasure (twenty-three lacs of rupees, safely preserved through all the trying scenes of half a year) were to be removed to the Dil Koosha about the same time as the non-combatants, and as all this was to be effected without exciting the suspicions of the rebels, the utmost vigilance and caution were needed.
The exodus from the Residency, and the escape to the Dil Koosha, through nearly the whole length of the city of Lucknow, will never be forgotten by those who took part therein. Many delicate ladies, unprovided with vehicles or horses, had to walk over five or six miles of very rough ground, exposed at one place to the fire of the enemy’s musketry. The authoress of the Lady’s Diary, with two other ladies, secured a carriage to convey them. ‘We had a pair of starved horses of Mr Gubbins’s to drag us; but the wretched animals had been on siege-fare so long that they had forgotten the use of their legs, and had no strength, so came to a stand-still every five minutes, invariably choosing the most dangerous parts of the road for their halt. At one place we were under so hot a fire that we got out and ran for our lives—leaving the vehicle to its fate; and two poor natives, who were helping to push it on behind, were shot. At the Fureed Buksh we had to wait a long time, as the carriage could not be got through a gateway till some stores were cleared away. Some of the officers of the 90th invited us inside, and gave us wine and water, which was very refreshing. We walked after that every step of the way to Secunderabad [Secunder Bagh], where we all had to wait several hours till doolies arrived to take on all the women; and we proceeded under a strong escort to Dil Koosha. The road to Secunderabad was frightfully dangerous in places. In one spot we were passing a 24-pounder manned by some sailors of the naval brigade; they all called out to us to bend low and run as fast as we could; we had hardly done so when a volley of grape whizzed over our heads and struck a wall beyond. At Secunderabad we found the place overflowing with women and children of the Lucknow garrison.... At about nine o’clock P.M. we started again in doolies. The crowd and confusion were excessive, the enemy hovering round and firing occasional shots, and we were borne along in the most solemn silence; the only sounds were the tramp, tramp, tramp of the doolie-bearers and the screaming of the jackals. It was an awful time; one felt as if one’s life hung in a balance, with the fate we had so long dreaded; but our merciful Father, who has protected us through so many and great dangers, brought us in safety to Dil Koosha, where we arrived about two o’clock in the morning.’ They found shelter in the hastily prepared Dil Koosha encampment, already mentioned; and then, for the first time during five months, they snatched a little sleep beyond the Residency intrenchment. Mrs (now Lady) Inglis behaved on this occasion in a manner worthy of her name; a doolie or hospital-litter was prepared for her accommodation; but she refused it, in order that the sick and wounded might be better attended to. Mr Rees gives an extract from a letter of this lady, in which the incidents of the day are narrated nearly in the same terms as by the chaplain’s wife; but the following few additional facts may be given: ‘The road was quite safe except in three places, where it was overlooked by the enemy’s position, and where we had to run. One poor woman was wounded at one of these places. We arrived at Secunder Bagh about six, and found every one assembled there, awaiting an escort and doolies to carry us on. When I tell you that upwards of two thousand men had been hastily buried there the day before, you can fancy what a place it was.... We were regaled with tea and plenty of milk, and bread and butter—luxuries we had not enjoyed since the commencement of our troubles. At ten o’clock we recommenced our journey; most of the ladies were in palanquins, but we had a covered-cart drawn by two obstinate bullocks. We had a force of infantry and cavalry with us, but had not proceeded half a mile when the column was halted, and an order sent back for reinforcements; some noise was heard, and it was believed we might be attacked. However, it proved a false alarm; and after two disagreeable and rather anxious hours, we arrived safely at the Dil Koosha, and were quartered in tents pitched for our reception.’ The charnel-house at the Secunder Bagh, mentioned in this extract, was the place where most of the slaughter of the enemy had occurred, and where the dead bodies had been hastily interred; the atmosphere around it was for many days in a frightful state.
The military movement in this evacuation of the Residency was spoken of by Sir Colin, in his official dispatch, as something masterly. He told how Outram so planned that each corps and regiment, each detachment and picket, should be able to march out silently in the dead of the night, without exciting suspicion among the myriads of enemies near; and yet that there should be guns and riflemen so posted as to repel the enemy if they should attempt any serious molestation of the retiring troops. It must be remembered that Outran and Havelock’s gallant and much-enduring men had many things to effect after the non-combatants had departed from the Residency. They were called upon to bring away as many of the stores as could conveniently be conveyed, and to destroy those which, if left behind, would too much strengthen the enemy; they had to escort and protect their weaker companions, and to maintain a bombardment of the Kaiser Bagh and other posts, to deceive the enemy. The last of the men came out as quietly and cautiously as possible, in the dead of the night between the 22d and 23d of November, leaving lights burning, that the departure might not be suspected. They silently passed through the streets and roads, and safely reached the Dil Koosha. Captain Waterman, through some misconception, was left behind, and found himself, at two o’clock in the morning, the only living man in the intrenched position which had lately been so crowded. The situation was a terrible one, surrounded as he was by fifty thousand vindictive armed enemies. In an agony of mind, he ran past the Taree Kothee, the Fureed Buksh, the Chuttur Munzil, the Motee Mehal, the Secunder Bagh, and the Martinière, to the Dil Koosha, which he reached in a state of mental and bodily prostration. Sir Colin was among the last to leave the place. So cleverly was the evacuation managed (without the loss of one man), that the enemy continued to fire into the Residency enclosure long after the British had quitted it. What the scene was among the women and children, we have just been informed; what it was among the soldiers, is well described in a letter from one of the officers: ‘An anxious night indeed that was! We left at twelve o’clock, having withdrawn all our guns from position, so that if the scoundrels had only come on, we should have had to fight every inch of our way while retiring; but the hand of Providence, which had watched the little garrison for so long a time, never left it to the last. The eye of the wicked was blinded while we marched breathlessly with beating hearts from our post, and, forming into line, walked through the narrow defiles and trenches leading from the ever-memorable Bailey guard. Out we went, while the enemy’s guns still pounded the old wall, and while the bullets still whistled over the buildings; and, after a six miles’ walk in ankle-deep sand, we were halted in a field and told to make ourselves comfortable for the night. Here we were in a pretty plight. Nothing to cover ourselves, while the cold was intense; so we lay down like so many sheep huddled together to keep ourselves warm, and so lay till the morning, when we rose stiff and cold, with a pretty prospect of the chance of finding our servants in a camp of 9000 men.’
The world-renowned ‘Residency’ at Lucknow being thus abandoned, it may be well to give in a note[[122]] Sir James Outram’s comments on the eight weeks’ defence of that place, as a sequel to Brigadier Inglis’s account (p. [336]) of the previous three months’ defence before Outram arrived. To Outram was due the planning and execution of the strategical movement by which the evacuation of the Residency was accomplished. The commander-in-chief, in a general order issued on the 23d, thus spoke of it: ‘The movement of retreat last night, by which the final rescue of the garrison was effected, was a model of discipline and exactness. The consequence was, that the enemy was completely deceived, and the force retired by a narrow, tortuous lane—the only line of retreat open—in the face of fifty thousand enemies, without molestation.’[[123]]