The rebellion broke out in the early part of 1857, and by June of that year the English were acting on the defensive. Sir Henry Lawrence had thoughtfully gathered large quantities of ammunition and provisions in the Residency buildings, and when the English went there they were well provided with everything except the numbers necessary for the defence. The original strength of the garrison was 1692, consisting of 927 Europeans and 765 natives; there were about 200 women and children, some of them being families of the defenders and others fugitives from various parts of the province. The distance around the Residency is more than a mile—a long line to hold against a besieging force. The siege properly began on June 30th, and ended the 25th of September, when Sir Henry Havelock and Sir James Outram arrived. They added to the garrison and gave a sense of security, but in one sense their mission was a failure. They were to relieve the garrison and escort it to Cawnpore, but they suffered so terribly in cutting their way through the investing lines that it was considered injudicious to make the attempt. So they remained, and as they brought nothing with them they drew heavily upon the stock of provisions; the whole garrison was reduced to quarter rations, and relief was anxiously awaited.
In the latter part of November Sir Colin Campbell advanced from Cawnpore in the direction of Lucknow, and word was brought to the garrison by a native spy. Knowing how severely Havelock had suffered in his advance, those who understood the situation feared a similar fate for General Campbell. Mr. Kavanagh said the subject was constantly in his mind, and he became convinced that some one who could give intelligent information must go out to meet the advancing army. "I went," said he, "to Colonel Napier, whom I had known for twenty years, and stated my views. He agreed with me, but did not see how it could be done. He said it would be certain death to any European who undertook it, and no native could be trusted or could give the proper information to General Campbell. I told him I would go, but he laughed at the idea, and said I could never make up as a native. I thought I could, and asked him to take me to General Outram.
"He took me to General Outram," continued Mr. Kavanagh, "and the general was of Colonel Napier's opinion. But I saw he was willing I should go if I would, though he would not give his sanction, nor would he ask me. He said if any one went it must be an unmarried man, and as I had a wife and children I had better drop the idea. I answered, 'My life is endangered every hour, and if I go out and am killed it will only hasten the event. If I succeed I shall save many lives, perhaps all in the Residency, and certainly many of those of the relieving force. I shall go, and leave my family to the care of the British nation.'
"Then I went and borrowed native garments, only one in each place, to avoid suspicion, and in the evening took my bundle to the house of a man I could trust. There I dressed myself, and my friend blacked my face and hands with oil and burnt cork. Then I went to the officers' mess, entered with my shoes on, and sat down uninvited—very rude things for a native to do. The officers commented in English on my impudence and asked me in Hindostanee what I wanted. I replied in the same language that I wished to see Colonel Napier.
"He was called, and I talked to him in Hindostanee, pretending to be a friendly spy from the outside; then I asked for General Outram, and Colonel Napier went to call him. When General Outram came I talked to him in the native language, and then said in English that I thought my disguise would answer, as neither he nor Napier had recognized me.
"'Why—it's Kavanagh!' they both said together. They agreed it was a good disguise, and at my request General Outram wrote a letter to General Campbell telling who I was. I hid it in my turban, and, about eleven o'clock, started in company with a native spy."
The pair had many adventures. They forded the river near the Residency, recrossed it by the iron bridge, and entered the city. They were stopped at the head of the bridge by a native officer, who questioned them closely; Kavanagh did the talking, as his companion was greatly frightened, and his plausible story carried them through. In the city the native wanted to go through the narrow alleys and unfrequented streets, but Kavanagh insisted that the middle of the widest street was the safest; he carried his point, and it proved correct. They came to a native picket-guard, and, lest the sergeant might reconsider the matter and recall them, Kavanagh turned back after going a few steps and borrowed a man to show them a short distance on the way. They were again lost, and entered a house close to a camp, where they roused a woman, who told them in a garrulous way, which they encouraged, all about the soldiers in the vicinity, and set them in the proper direction. Again they were lost, and floundered in a marsh, where Kavanagh carried his clothes and other things on his head, and supported his companion, who could not swim. Morning was approaching, the moon was up, and he discovered that much of the blacking was washed from his face, while his hands were nearly as white as before he colored them. He was almost exhausted; had injured his foot severely, and half his clothing was wet. But on he must press to meet the advancing column, and he knew not how far away it was.
An hour before daybreak they met villagers fleeing with what property they could carry, and the spies learned, to their great but carefully concealed joy, that the English were only three miles away. As day dawned they reached one of the outposts of Sikh cavalry, and were halted by an old Sikh, who took the pair to his captain. Just as the sun rose, Mr. Kavanagh, his face streaked and spotted like a coach-dog, was at the entrance of Sir Colin Campbell's tent. The old fellow gruffly demanded who he was, and what he wanted.
"My name is Kavanagh," was the reply; "I left the Residency last night, and here is a letter from General Outram."