Saturday, November 14th. The troops moved from Allum Bagh. It was a very exciting day to most people; but somehow or other I felt very tranquil. I spent the morning with Charlie. The troops took possession of the Dil Koosha and Martinière, and by the evening our flag was waving over the latter building.
Sunday, November 15th. The General went out with his Staff at 10 A.M., but from some cause unknown to us, neither our troops made any sortie nor the reinforcements any advance. I paid Charlie a visit after dinner.
Monday, November 16th. A most exciting day. The troops moved from the Martinière at half-past 6; we heard the guns firing tremendously. I went over to Charlie about 11 A.M.; the roof of his house was crowded with spectators. They had just seen some of our Cavalry and Artillery take two of the enemy's guns, on the road to the Motee Mohul, and plant two of ours in their stead, drawn by grey horses; some of the Lancers were distinguished by their peculiar caps. Our own force, from entrenchments, moved out also from the Fureed Bucksh, and took the Engine House and King's Stables, and all the buildings up to the Nullah. About half-past 12 I went on the roof (or rather stood at the head of the stairs, looking through a hole in the parapet, that had been made by a round shot), and saw the mines[10] sprung, and the batteries firing furiously behind the Chutter Munzel. It was a most extraordinary scene! shells were bursting in the air above them,—fired, I suppose by the enemy,—and every few minutes a new mine was sprung, sending up a thick yellow smoke and dust quite different from the smoke of the batteries. We saw one round shot strike a bungalow, on the banks of the river, and immediately some figures sprung up from the verandah and made off with their bundles of bedding. Many rockets were also fired, which set fire to several buildings, and then volumes of thick smoke and flame arose. At one time a mine was sprung, far out in the distance (conjectured to be some magazine of the enemy); very few were seen running away; every now and then, two or three would swim the river, having first stripped and tied their clothes on their heads. A few ran away in our direction, through Phillips' garden, so Charlie placed a rifleman to pick off any who might be seen flying in that direction. He would not allow more than fourteen on the roof of his house at one time; it was in such a battered condition, it was not safe to have more. It was doubtful even if the concussion from the mines might not shake it too much, so a Crannee and a Sikh were placed to keep too many from crowding up; and when some parties had been long enough, they were sent down, and others took their places. There was always a party of European soldiers waiting to go up: the house stands high, and commands the part of the city our troops are entering. I was quite sorry, when dinner-time came, and I was obliged to leave, for it was the most exciting scene I ever in my life witnessed. I little thought even when I "listed," that I should ever witness a pitched battle, and that my own life should depend on the issue of it: it is, indeed, mercifully ordained that we shall not see into the future. About 6, the General and his party returned. Our troops had got up to the Motee Mohul, on one side, and to the Nullah on the other, so that the two parties were only separated by a few hundred yards.
Tuesday, November 17th. The General and his Staff went out to meet Sir C—— C——. I went over to Charlie, but there was not much to be seen from his house, and there was a 24-pounder in the Dawk Office Compound, just below his window, which, when it fired, regularly blew a blast into the room, much to my annoyance. I returned to dinner; and when the General came home in the evening, he said, as he passed into the house, "Ladies, I have seen the Commander-in-Chief." The communication was now opened with our troops; some of his staff remained talking with us,[11] and we then heard that Col. N——, and Mr. S——, A.D.C., had been wounded. The General had rushed across to the Commander-in-Chief, through a heavy fire. After prayer in the evening, he called Dr. F—— aside, and said a few words to him; and when Dr. F—— came back he said: "All ladies, and the sick and wounded, are to be out of the garrison before to-morrow night, and can only take what they can carry in their hands." It came upon us like a thunderbolt; one felt almost paralysed—so helpless! How were we to go, and what could we take with us? We were told not to name it; out of our own garrison that night, or else I should have gone off to Charlie at once. Several of the ladies sat up all night, stitching things of value into their petticoats, &c.; I sat up a little while, but I got such an internal shivering and spasms with the start it had given me, that I was obliged to go to bed, fearing I might get one of my attacks; of course, sleep was out of the question.
Wednesday, November 18th. I got up at daybreak, and rushed over to Charlie. I found him fast asleep, but awoke him with the news, which he would not believe; however, he got up and gave me all sorts of instructions how to manage, and said he would set off and see if he could contrive anything for me. I went home again to stitch my valuables around me; and, by dinner time he had got me two old men—fathers of Sepoys who had been with us all through the siege—one of whom was to carry a bundle of bedding, and the other my dressing case; our only servant, a punkah coolie, was to carry a tin box: he cheered me with the news also, that he had got leave to accompany me as far as Secundrabagh.[12] So I must walk, having no carriage; however, there came an order that we were not to go till the next day. I was thankful, for I was quite worn out with the preparations. Charlie, also, was quite done up, he had been over so often to help me; and we are none of us very strong; and after all he brought me 2 lbs. of sugar, a great treat, for we had tasted none for weeks. We went to bed all worn out, Charlie sending word, the last thing, that I was to have the Subadar's mare to ride the next day. The Sikh cook was to carry a banghy; so I set to work and packed my little portmanteau with what next I thought I should most like to save (the difficulty was to select), and all these things went off at night with Herah Sing, a Sikh Sepoy in charge. Charlie had given him a note to Col. B——, to take charge of them till I arrived next day; but, the Colonel was killed that very afternoon—so Capt. N——, Assistant Adjutant-General, kindly took charge of them instead.
Thursday. November 19th. Charlie came over the first thing, and said Capt. W—— had lent him a coolie, so I had to pack another box, and as Herah Sing had invested thirty-five rupees in a pony (without orders) for me to ride, I got a side-saddle from Mrs. F——; and then came the news that the Brigadier had cancelled Charlie's leave, as so many had been applying for the same. It gave me a sharp pang indeed, for this may be our parting in India; however, it was no time to give way, so I dressed in all the clothes I could, fearing I might not be able to get my boxes carried on from Secundrabagh. I put on three of each kind of under garments—a pink flannel dressing-gown, and plaid jacket, and then over all my cloth dress and jacket made out of my habit. I then tied my Cashmere shawl round my waist, and also Charlie's silver mug, and put on a worsted cap and hat, and had my cloak placed on the saddle; in my pink dressing gown I had stitched dear mamma's last present to me, and I filled several pockets with valuables also; in two under ones I had all my little stock of jewellery, and my journal, and some valuable papers. I also wore a bustle, in which I had stitched my Honiton lace wedding dress, veil, &c., and two black and white lace shawls; so that I was a pretty good size. At half-past 10, Charlie and Capt. W——, with great difficulty mounted me on my pony,—a very difficult affair dressed and laden as I was and with no spring in me. Capt. W—— and a large party, were in fits of laughter; at last it was accomplished, and Charlie took me out to the Baillie Guard Gate, and there we parted with a shake of the hands, not knowing when we might meet again! My heart was very heavy, but it was no time to give way. Herah Sing led my pony very carefully. At last we came to a part that was dangerous; the enemy commanded it from the Kaiser Bagh, and the musket shots were whistling about, so some soldiers advised my dismounting and walking through the trenches which had been cut for us. I did so; and when I came out at the engine house an officer came forward to meet me and congratulated me and offered his assistance. I said I was waiting for my pony, so he offered me his charpoy to sit on till it came round and sent his Orderly to look for it; at last it came, and he took me through some barracks to meet it, and there attempted to mount me, but of course unsuccessfully. At last, however, with the assistance of a tall soldier and Herah Sing, and a chair, I was got up again, and then he begged to know my name that he might tell my friends he had sent me on safely, and I asked to whom I was indebted for so much kindness? He said, "Mr. F——, of the Artillery;" and when I named Capt. G—— he said, "Oh! I know G—— very well, and I will be sure to tell him you are all right!" So on I went, steadily, till I came to another dangerous part, when another soldier told me I had better dismount; but I thought of my former difficulties, so I made Herah Sing double the pony across, the balls whistling over our heads. When we got to Secundrabagh, there were the 93rd Highlanders in their kilts and bonnets, and the Naval Brigade with their great guns. I spoke to one of the sailors on a 24-pounder, and asked if there were any place appropriated to the ladies? He jumped off, and said he would show me the way, and congratulated me on getting out of Lucknow, and asked if he could do anything for me? He said his name was Mr. H——, and he belonged to the Shannon, and that he might be found at any time at that gun if I sent for him. He then told me of the fight they had coming in, and that 1,842 Natives had been killed in that very garden; the bodies were counted as they were buried: he said they lay in heaps breast high. I took up my position in the corner of a verandah, as it was cleaner than the house. Mrs. B—— was the only lady arrived. Herah Sing drew me some water, and I took out a ham sandwich Charlie had given me in the morning—his own breakfast—for they had had a ham at the Brigade Mess, one that had been kept in store as a treat to be eaten when the relief arrived. While I was eating it, Captain C—— came up and offered to do anything for me; so I asked for a hackery to take on my baggage. He said he could give me camels, but I preferred a hackery as I might be able to sit on it if my pony broke down. He gave me some sherry, and said he would send me some bread and butter—a great treat. He left, and then came Mr. H—— again and asked if I wanted anything, and sent me a loaf of bread. I asked him to get me some ropes, in case my baggage had to go on camels, which he did; and then came Capt. C—— again with his rezie and pillow for me to sit on, and his Kitmagar with bread and butter and cold mutton and a bottle of beer. I ate a little, and then asked him to cut sandwiches for me, of the rest, for night; which he did, and I put them in my basket with the bottle of beer. About the middle of the day came Miss H—— and Mrs. S——; they had walked all the way. About an hour after, came Mrs. H—— and Mrs. B—— and her baby in a buggy; they came to my corner, and our party remained together all day. Every other place was filled with ladies and children, soldiers' wives and Crannies' wives. We were to move on to the Dil Koosha in the evening, which we were glad to hear, for the smells here were intolerable. About dusk they began to make preparations, and the place was one mass of camels, bullocks, carriages and human beings; the same outside, in front of the gateway: so great was the confusion that Capt. C——, who had been ordered to keep the road open, gave it up in dispair, and came and said it was utterly impossible to do so; he had left a string of camels entangled in a ditch, and the road was one mass of entanglement; he was, however, obliged to go off again, and it became pitch dark; and there we were, left to our own devices: how we were ever to get on, none of us could tell. However, at last I decided my best plan was to load my pony with my bundle of bedding, and walk myself, and the rest of my baggage must take its chance; the coolie who had night blindness, and one of the old men, must remain with it, and get Capt. C—— to send it on in a hackery next day. I got a soldier of the 9th Lancers, named Mitchell, to load the pony for me; he was very civil, and did all he could for me: we then sat down in the dark, patiently, till we should get our orders to move; the enemy were out between us and the Dil Koosha, and we were not to go without a large escort, which was to be ready at 8. A little before that time came Capt. E——, to say the enemy were out so strong that no carriages of any kind were to go on that evening, we must hurry with all speed to the Dil Koosha, but must go a roundabout, sandy road, and must run no risk of being hindered by carriages sticking in the sand: as many dhoolies (palanquins for the sick) as could be procured would be in readiness for the ladies, and those who could not get them must walk. Soon after, fortunately, came up Mr. O'D——, who said our only plan would be to go and take possession of empty dhoolies ourselves; so off we set, he dragging us through the entangled mass—far worse than any London mob—and he put us into four dhoolies, nearly all separated. I called to my old man to bring the pony and bundle of bedding, but that was utterly impossible for the time; we waited some time in the dhoolies, and then mine and Miss H——'s were ordered somewhere to the front, but in quite a different direction to what I considered the right road to the Dil Koosha. We heard the enemy firing in the distance: never shall I forget the confusion of that night—the masses crowded together in the pitch darkness; for even when Mrs. B—— had a candle lighted, thinking her baby was dying (its breath having been caught by the cold air), it was ordered to be put out immediately, on account of the number of ammunition waggons. I think we must have started about 9; we went on steadily for some distance, and then some of the advanced guard came riding back, telling the dhoolie-bearers not to speak a word, the enemy were so near; so on we went, nothing to be heard but the tramp of the bearers; after a time we were all halted, and not allowed to make the slightest noise, the enemy were so close. After a time, on we went again in silence, a very roundabout way, and when I looked at my watch after our arrival, I found it had stopped at ten minutes past 2. Now, the direct road would only have been two miles. We were kept waiting on our arrival for some time, for they said there was no place ready for us; we were turned back from the house, as there were already 1,100 sick there. After waiting about an hour in the cold, I seized a gentleman who was passing with a lantern, and asked him where we were to go; he pointed to some tents a long way off, and after tumbling over innumerable tent-pegs and ropes we reached them, and lay down on the ground for the night—for it was utterly impossible to find my pony with the bedding—but we got a rizie (quilt) to lie upon, and I put my head on my basket. The tents were so open that I, of course, got a severe cold; however, daylight soon appeared.
Friday, November 20th. As soon as day dawned I went all over the immense camp in search of my pony. I found several ladies had passed the night in their dhoolies; Mrs. B—— fortunately had a small tent of her own, so she went straight off to the commissariat officer and asked him for a place for it, and kindly asked me to share it with her; it was such a luxury, when it was pitched, to get into it by ourselves, and I had found the pony, with my bedding, so when I was dressed I lay down on it and rested, for I felt quite worn out. We spent the day quietly; in the afternoon, to our great delight, Mr. C—— brought us a packet of overland letters. Oh! the joy of having them once again, and finding all our dear ones at home were well; we had received none for many months. My hackery arrived, just after, with my worldly goods; Capt. C—— had kindly sent them on from Secundrabagh, so that I began to feel more comfortable. We went to bed very early, to recruit our strength.
Saturday, November 21st. I rose early, and took home some newspapers that had been lent me, in one of which was an account of poor Mrs. B——'s murder at Hissar. On our return we drew our rations—bread, meat, tea, sugar, rice, dal, and salt—a bountiful supply: I then sent off the coolie to Charlie with a note, and he sent me back a charpoy (bed) and some other things, so I had no longer to sleep on the ground.
Sunday, November 22nd. A quiet day! But we have no service, although there were six Padres in the camp. In the evening, to our joy, we heard the old garrison were leaving Lucknow, and might be with us that night. Mrs. B—— and I sat up till Davie came and told us they could not be here till the next morning.
Monday, November 23rd. Rose early, and went out to enquire for our husbands, and found they had arrived, but were kept in a camp, about a mile off. We waited impatiently till 4 P.M., when Mr. B—— made his appearance; he said he had waited all day, to ask the Brigadier's leave to come up; but the Brigadier had been away himself all day with his wife; so he set off without leave, and met him just returning. About sunset, in came dear Charlie, limping sadly; he was loaded with a sword, carbine, haversack, case bottle, and a stick to help him along; he had gone on the sick list, for his knee was so bad, he did not feel equal to marching. He had tea with us, and then stretched his bedding outside our tent, under the awning of it, so as to escape the dew; but I longed to give him shelter, it was so cold. We packed all ready for starting, as we were to march in the morning; but the hour was kept secret, on account of the enemy.