But the most glorious defence on record is that made by a noble band at Lucknow, from June 30th until September 26th, 1857, when relieved by Havelock. To go into the details of that defence is beyond the province of this book, but I feel I must say a little about it. No one in old England can form any idea of the sufferings of this pent-up little garrison. The heat was almost intolerable; cholera was raging in the midst of them, their numbers daily becoming less and less; and thousands of fiends surrounded them panting for their blood. Such was the situation for months of some hundreds of poor defenceless women and children, with only a handful of men to defend them; there was no part of the Residency safe for one minute. Week in and week out, for three long months, and that in the worst part of the year in India, death in a thousand shapes confronted this heroic band, yet they nobly fought on. They had heard that relief was on the way, but oh, dear, why did it not come? All India must know the state they were in; the people in England even must know of their condition, but yet no help appeared. They had heard the guns of that noble Christian soldier, Havelock, and thought that the hour of deliverance had come, but day after day passed, and no help was visible. The little garrison still fought on desperately, repulsing all the attacks of the bloodthirsty fiends who would have cut the unfortunate helpless creatures to pieces. But a merciful God was watching over them. Havelock, with his small but courageous army, once more, on the 20th September, started from Cawnpore for their relief, and soon the poor half-starved and miserable forms of humanity could distinctly hear the guns pounding away at the enemy, when all at once they caught a glimpse of their deliverers. The scene is almost beyond description, as the gallant Highlanders, rough, long-bearded, determined-looking men, dashed into the midst of them. The following is an extract from the diary of one of the ladies who was present at the Relief:—“I shall never forget the moment as long as I live. We had no idea that deliverance was so close; we could distinctly hear the cheering of our men and the Highland Pipers, and all at once we found ourselves in the arms of big, rough-bearded soldiers; they seized the dear little ones out of our arms, and kissed them over and over again, with tears rolling down their cheeks, and thanked God that they had come in time to save them from the fate of those at Cawnpore.” The loss on our side had been heavy, the gallant Neill had met a soldier’s death just at the gates of the Residency, and close upon 600 men were killed. Our people had fought their way in, but, alas, the hoped-for relief had not yet come. They were again hemmed in, and there had to remain until ultimately relieved by Sir Colin Campbell. The strength of the besieged was now, however, greatly augmented, and they made the enemy keep at a respectful distance. It was no longer such desperate work as the gallant 32nd and a company or two of the 84th had passed through. A few loyal men of the 13th, 48th, and 71st Native Infantry, materially aided in this defence. They were afterwards formed into a Regiment, and called the Lucknow Regiment. The Government at once rewarded them, each individual man being presented with the Indian Order of Merit, which carries with it five shillings per month for life. These men had proved themselves worthy to fight beside the bravest of the brave—they had been worth their weight in gold to that noble little garrison.
A DESPERATE STAND.
Elephants have been used in war by the moderns as well as the ancients; they were employed by Tippoo Sahib, armed with chains, with which, when wounded, they were not at all particular, for they killed both friend and foe.
The following has no comparison in the annals of war. It was an attack at Perambankum, on the 6th September, 1780, by Hyder-Ali, upon a force commanded by Colonel Baillie. Lieut.-Colonel Baillie could make but a feeble resistance against so superior a force, but his little band yet gallantly kept them at bay until their ammunition for the field guns began to run short. Hyder’s guns upon this drew nearer and nearer, while each shot was attended with deadly effect; the enemy now advanced on all sides to a close attack; the blacks deserted us, and the little band united—both infantry and artillery—and planted themselves upon a small mound or sand-bank, and there resolved to defend themselves to the last. Their numbers were now reduced to 500; and they were opposed by no fewer than 100,000 enraged barbarians, who never grant quarter. In trying to picture such a scene and such a situation as their’s was, the mind is at once filled with horror and with awe. Formidable bodies of horse, infantry, artillery, and elephants, advanced from all quarters. Distinct bodies of cavalry would advance, but the well-timed roll of musketry from the little band had a powerful effect upon them, and their attacks were driven back again and again, while fresh columns kept advancing. At last the fearful struggle was marked by the clashing of arms and shields, the snapping of spears, the glistening of bloody swords, horses kicking, the groans of the mutilated men, wounded horses falling upon expiring men, and the roaring of the elephants, stalking about and wielding their chains against friends and foes. That was how the present 71st Highlanders were situated. They acquitted themselves nobly, and well earned the word “Hindoostan,” which they bear upon their colours.
THE 52nd LIGHT INFANTRY.
During the winter of 1775, plays were acted in Boston twice a week by the officers and some ladies. On one occasion a farce called the “Blockade of Boston,” was presented; the enemy knew the night it was to be performed and made an attack on the mill at Charlestown, at the very hour the farce began; they fired some shots, and surprised and carried off a Sergeant’s Guard. Our men immediately turned out and manned the works. An orderly sergeant standing outside the playhouse door, and who heard the firing, immediately ran into the playhouse, got upon the stage, crying out with all his might, “Turn out, turn out, they are hard at it, hammers and tongs.” The whole audience, supposing the sergeant was acting a part in the farce, loudly applauded. When the applause was over he again cried out, “What are you all about? If you do not believe me, you need only go to the door, and there ye’ll hear and see both.” If the enemy intended to stop the farce they certainly succeeded. All immediately left the playhouse, and the officers joined their Regiments.
THE OLD SUFFOLK REGIMENTS.
These have been good loyal corps for many years. At Minden, 1st August, 1759, the 12th routed the French off the field with the bayonet, although the odds were heavy against them. At Gibraltar they took a noble part in its defence, and in the end came off conquerors, although there were enough around them, both of French and Spaniards, to eat them, but the bayonet stood in the way. At Seringapatam, they taught the Sultan Tippoo Sahib (not how to make hard “dumplins, bor”), but how to respect our flag. The Suffolk Regiment took a leading part in the storming of that exceedingly strong and rich fortress. Not a shot did the British fire, when the noble old commander, Colonel Baird, called out in a voice of thunder, “Now, my lads, follow me, and prove yourselves worthy of the name of British soldiers;” history can prove that the old East Suffolk Regiment, the 12th, nobly responded. He again called out to his men “All must be done with the bayonet,” and in they went, and in a few short hours the richest fortress that ever was taken by storm lay at the conquerors’ feet. The old 12th led the way, Tippoo Sahib was killed, but not by eating hard dumplings. He was one of the bitterest foes that we ever had in India. It was he who said he would rather live the life of a tiger one year, than one hundred that of a Christian. This regiment has seen a great deal of service in India, and is one of the few regiments that has on its colours the word “India.” It had some desperate fighting along the Malabar coast, from 1808 until 1810; sometimes they were completely overwhelmed with numbers, but never beaten, on one occasion they fought for an entire day, with the odds of twenty-five to one, and then with a desperate charge, front rank going one way and rear rank the other, they routed the enemy. Surely there are as good men in old Suffolk now, as there were in 1808! As for the other Suffolk Regiment, I had the pleasure of fighting side by side with them at the Alma, at Inkermann, and throughout the siege of Sebastopol, and can testify that they there proved to the world that they are second to none. The old 63rd, or West Suffolk, did not lose anything like as many as most regiments in the Crimea from the enemy; but with hardships and sickness they were nearly all destroyed, while the few who were left were sent down to Balaclava, in the beginning of 1855. The present 63rd, or West Suffolk Regiment, was formerly the 2nd battalion of the 8th Regiment, and as such did good service in Flanders, Spain, Portugal, and India, and, in fact, all over the world.
ENGLAND NOT A MILITARY NATION?