Still another remarkable incident may be described. A cluster of doolies, with wounded officers and men, lost its way in the tangled streets and was cut off. Nine men of the escort, with five wounded, took refuge in a small building which formed one side of the gateway where Neill had been shot; and for a whole day and night they defended themselves against overwhelming numbers. Dr. Home, of the 90th, was one of the party, and has left a graphic account of what is perhaps the most brilliant little incident in the whole history of the siege.
The Sepoys kept up a bitter and tireless fire on the single doorway of the room held by the nine. One of the British, a Fusileer named M’Manus, stood outside the doorway, sheltering himself behind a pillar, and shot down man after man of the enemy. So cool and quick and deadly was his fire that the Sepoys feared to make a rush. At last their leader, to encourage them, shouted there were but three sahibs in the house, whereupon the whole fourteen, wounded included, joined in a loud cheer to undeceive them. Captain Arnold, of the Fusileers, lay wounded in one of the abandoned doolies visible through the doorway. Two gallant privates, Ryan and M’Manus, charged out through the fire and carried their officer into the house. They ran out a second time and brought in a wounded private; but in each case the comrade they carried was mortally wounded while in their arms.
Again and again some leader of the Sepoys ran out, heading a charge on the doorway; but each time the leader was shot, and the Sepoys fell back. The sorely beleaguered party was rescued the next morning. Just when hope seemed to have abandoned them, a new blast of musketry volleys was heard at a little distance, and one of the Fusileers recognised the regular sound. He jumped up, shouting, “Oh, boys, them’s our own chaps!”
CHAPTER VIII
LUCKNOW AND SIR COLIN CAMPBELL
Havelock fought his way through blood and fire into the Residency, but he shrank from leading a great procession of women and children and wounded men along that via dolorosa—that pathway of blood—by which, at so grim a cost, he had himself reached the beleaguered garrison. The Residency, it was clear, must be held, since the great company of helpless women and children it sheltered could not be carried off. So what Havelock and Outram really accomplished was not so much a Relief as a Reinforcement.
Outram assumed the command, and for six weeks the greatly-strengthened garrison held its own with comparative ease against the revolted swarms, reckoned—uncertainly—at no less than 60,000 strong, who still maintained a sullen blockade of the Residency.
Early in November reinforcements were pouring in from England, and a new actor appeared on the scene. The crisis of the Mutiny called to the post of commander-in-chief in India the best soldier Great Britain possessed. Colin Campbell was not, perhaps, a great general, in the sense in which Sir John Moore, or Wellington, or Sir Charles Napier were generals. But he was a tough, hard-fighting, much-experienced soldier, with that combination of wariness and fire which marks the Scotch genius for battle. What he did not know of the details of a soldier’s business might almost be described as not worth knowing. He had served his apprenticeship to war in the perils and hardships of Moore’s retreat to Corunna. A list of the battles and sieges in which he took part would cover almost the entire military history of Great Britain between Corunna and the Crimea. His cool skill and daring as a soldier are picturesquely illustrated by the famous “thin red line” incident at Balaclava; where, disdaining to throw his troops into square, he received a charge of Russian cavalry on a thin extended front, and smote the assailing squadron into fragments with a single blast of musketry.
Colin Campbell was sixty-five years of age, and regarded his military career as over; but on July 11, when the news of General Anson’s death reached England, Lord Panmure offered Campbell the chief command in India, and with characteristic promptitude the Scottish veteran offered to start for India the same afternoon! Campbell landed at Calcutta on August 13, spent some weeks there in “organising victory”—or, rather, in reorganising the whole shattered military system of the Presidency—and on October 27 hurried to the seat of war. He reached Cawnpore on November 3, and on the 9th set out to relieve Lucknow. “Our friends in Lucknow,” he wrote to his sister, “have food only for five or six days.” This was a mistake that cost the lives of many brave men. Lawrence had provisioned the Residency better than was imagined. But the delusion of imminent starvation, which made Havelock fight his way at such desperate speed and cost into Lucknow, still prevailed, and governed British strategy. Delhi had fallen by September 20—a story yet to be told—and part of its besieging force was thus available for a new march on Lucknow.
On the afternoon of November 11 Campbell reviewed the relieving force at Buntera. It was modest in numbers—counting only about 4700 men. But war-hardened, and full of fiery yet disciplined daring, it was as efficient for all the purposes of battle as Napoleon’s Old Guard or Wellington’s famous Light Division. The cavalry brigade included two squadrons of the 9th Lancers, Hodson’s Horse, and three squadrons of native cavalry. The Naval Brigade was under Peel, the third son of the great Prime Minister of England, one of the most daring yet gentle spirits that ever fought and died for England. Evelyn Wood, who served under him as middy in the Crimea, describes him as “the bravest of the brave,” and yet “an ideal English gentleman.” “His dark brown wavy hair was carefully brushed back, disclosing a perfectly oval face, a high square forehead, and deep blue-grey eyes, which flashed when he was talking eagerly, as he often did.” The Artillery Brigade consisted of five batteries. The infantry was made up of detachments from the 4th, the 5th, the 23rd Fusileers, a wing of the 53rd, part of the 82nd, and the full strength of the 93rd Highlanders, with some Sikh regiments.