The battles of the British Army

by Robert Melvin Blackwood

Sir Henry Lawrence, who was in command, was prepared for the attack, and had placed the buildings formerly occupied by the Resident and his suite in a complete state of defence. A large stock of provisions had been laid in, and the walls were as well fortified and mounted with guns as they could be. A number of the native troops had remained “true to their salt,” and they apparently took as much interest in the preparations for defence as their white comrades. The rebels made many determined attacks, and kept up a steady fire, which fortunately did little damage. When they came to close quarters, they suffered severely, Sir Henry inflicting a number of heavy defeats upon them.

Day by day the siege dragged on, the enemy, strongly reinforced, becoming bolder, despite their losses. Sir Henry had a large number of helpless women and children in his keeping, and at last the provisions, which they trusted would last until relief came, began to run out. Something had to be done, and the brave Lawrence resolved that at all events the women and children should not starve while he had men to fight for them. A sortie upon the rebel camp was agreed upon, so Sir Henry, at the head of only 200 men of the 32nd Cornish Light Infantry, and supported by the loyal native infantry and a few guns, sallied forth to the attack.

The affair was short and sharp, but to the point. The advance guard of the rebels was engaged, and, unable to stand the fierce onslaught of the Cornish bayonets, they fled in total rout, leaving many dead and wounded upon the field. A great quantity of live stock was captured, and, well pleased with the success of his foray, Sir Henry prepared to return.

Just as the troops were re-entering the city, they were thunderstruck to have a murderous fire of grape shot poured in upon their ranks. What had happened? What was wrong? The questions were soon answered. For the fire proceeded from the guns which were in the hands of the native artillery, formerly supposed to be loyal. With the treachery which is so characteristic in the Oriental, the gunners turned the muzzles of their guns upon the returning band, and discharged volley after volley into the ranks, the fire being particularly directed against the 32nd. It was all over in a few minutes, the treacherous rebels who had posed as loyal soldiers of the Queen, fleeing to augment the ranks of the mutineers.

They had done their cowardly work well, for upwards of sixty rank and file were killed and wounded, together with a dozen officers. Sir Henry Lawrence was wounded on the leg, and, unfortunately for the garrison, the wound proved mortal. Hopes were at first entertained for his recovery, but lock-jaw set in, and this brave and dauntless officer died three days after receiving his wound.

The Europeans now realised that they had only their own good arms to trust to, so they determined to avenge the treachery, and defend the women and the children to the last. The lines commanding the town were abandoned, and the Muchee Bhaun fort, which had been strengthened, became the headquarters of the Lucknow defenders. There were 350 women and children to protect from the murderous rebels, and still there was no appearance of relief, yet the gallant 32nd, or all that was left of them, stuck to their posts.

Meanwhile how fares it with the relieving force under Havelock? This General, when he had sufficiently rested his troops at Cawnpore, resumed operations against Nana Sahib, whose palace and stronghold at Bithoor he destroyed by fire after capturing 16 guns, several elephants, and a few camels. He had but a slender force, and by sickness and wounds it was daily growing more feeble. Still he gallantly pushed on in the direction of Lucknow, and reached Oonas, a little town whose only approach was guarded by fifteen rebel guns. Lucknow lay before, and there must be no turning back. The little force sprang at the guns with the bayonet, drove the enemy back in an irresistible charge, and the town was in Havelock’s hands. Resting but a few hours, he hurriedly pushed on to Busserut Gunge, where he found fresh opposition. The gateway was barricaded, and the road, which had been carefully trenched by the mutineers, was guarded by four guns. A stubborn resistance was made to his onslaughts, but the fire from the British guns terrorised the rebels, who, at the next charge, broke and fled, leaving Havelock master of the situation.

Yet dearly was the victory bought, for out of his small force he had eighty-eight officers and men killed or wounded. Sunstroke was playing havoc amongst the men, but the courage of the Highlanders was amazing under all conditions.

An officer of the 78th (the Ross-shire Buffs) writing home, says:—“I can see the Highlanders are too much thought of here, for we get the brunt of everything. If there is anything to be done, the old General calls out, ‘Highlanders to the front! Charge that battery! You only require the word from me. Soldiers, up and at them!’ The word is no sooner said than done, for in the next moment the bagpipes are heard skirling, and our wild ‘Hurrah!’ resounding from the mountains; and look a little to the front and you will see the Scots charging up to the cannon’s mouth. But many of these brave men never come back. Poor fellows! We have laid a great many of them in the dust since we came here; and peace be with them.... The 78th did for the rebels, and sent them spinning in the air and on the road in all directions, and in three hours there was nothing of them to be seen but legs, arms, and heads.”

With his enfeebled force, it would have been madness on Havelock’s part to have gone further forward into the rebel-infested territory, so, on 5th August, he sorrowfully commenced his return journey to Cawnpore. Toiling on, they reached the Ganges, where they were again attacked by the rebels, who opened a terrible fire upon the 78th. The Highlanders did not stand idle as targets for the mutineers, but with a yell of rage and hatred they dashed at the guns, and once again the rebels tasted the terrible bayonet.