by V. A. Stuart
Alex held her to him, vainly seeking for words with which to comfort her, but she was still sobbing, her face pressed against his shoulder, when the vakeel came to summon him to Man Singh’s presence.
CHAPTER FIVE
The rear-guard and Colonel Napier’s reinforcements marched into the Residency as dawn was breaking on the morning of September 27, and both General Outram and General Havelock were waiting to receive them. Napier reported, with some satisfaction, that in addition to the Terhee Kothee and the Furhut Baksh, the greater part of the Chutter Munzil Palace had now been occupied.
“Colonel Purnell, with a company of the 90th, and Captain McCabe with a strong party from the old garrison, discovered a large force of the enemy in occupation of part of the Chutter Munzil enclosure, Sir James,” he said. “They were there, I suspect, with the intention of catching us in an ambush, but Purnell and McCabe, assisted by Lieutenant Aitken and his Bailey Guard sepoys, annihilated them. Eyre’s guns are safe—they can be brought in through the palaces whenever you wish . . .” he gave details of how the guns had been gotten out, praising Olpherts’ courage and ingenuity, and then added, with a tired smile, “And a party, under Lieutenant Moorsom, succeeded in breaking through to the square where our wounded were massacred yesterday.They rescued Surgeon Home of the 90th and ten survivors, of whom four are unwounded. One of the wounded officers— poor young Swanson of the 78th—died as we were bringing him in, and I regret to have to tell you that Colonel Sheridan, of the Volunteer Cavalry, who went out to seek aid for the party, is missing and must be presumed dead.”
“Sheridan was a most gallant officer,” Outram said. “And you say Crump has also been killed . . . dear God, we can ill sustain the loss of such men! What of Andrew Becher, Bob? Did you bring him in?”
Napier inclined his head. “He’s badly wounded, sir. I had him taken to the hospital, and young Arnold of the Blue Caps with him. But I’m afraid . . .” he did not complete his sentence and instead asked anxiously, “Are we to go or stay, Sir James?”
Sir James Outram exchanged a wry glance with General Havelock. “That question is still under discussion . . . and may well be decided for us by expediency. Up to the present, both General Havelock and I incline to the feeling that—provided we can secure the essential carriage for the wounded and the women and children—the old garrison should be evacuated to Cawnpore as soon as possible. Our relief force would then continue to defend the Residency.”
“And Colonel Inglis doubts that the carriage can be secured,” Havelock put in wearily. “He also doubts whether we can feed our combined forces—least of all the cavalry horses—until the commander-in-chief gets here. So it would seem to be a choice between two evils, Colonel Napier. The gun-cattle we have brought with us will suffice to provide fresh meat for a limited period, of course, and if Barrow and Hardinge can break through with their cavalry to the Alam Bagh, all may be well. In the meantime, Sir James intends to extend our defensive perimeter . . . is that not so, Sir James?”
Outram nodded vigorously. “Whatever fate decides for us, we are all agreed that a compact and extended perimeter is essential. You’ve secured our river frontage, Bob, my dear fellow, and you have acquitted yourself magnificently. But,” he laid an affectionate hand on his chief of staff’s shoulder, “you are done up and, I am sure, in need of food and a change of clothing. We’ll call a conference for noon—that will permit you time for a short rest. In the interim, I shall consult with the engineers and the commissariat officers . . . a decision has to be made and made very soon. In all humanity, I should like to get the women and the wounded away—conditions in the hospital are appalling and, if starvation is to be added to the perils they face, the risks inseparable from evacuation may well prove the lesser of the two. But . . .” again he glanced at Havelock. “As General Havelock says, it’s a choice between two evils, but I shall not be happy until we have driven the enemy back from our south and southeastern fronts and put their batteries out of action. We can do it by a series of sorties, I believe. However, the precise nature and order of these must wait to be decided at our conference.”
“Then with your permission, sir,” Napier said, “I’ll go and clean up and break my fast.”
“Of course, my dear fellow,” the General assented warmly. “We’ll see you at Dr. Fayrer’s house at noon.” Watching his departing back, he observed thoughtfully to Havelock, “Bob Napier is a fine soldier, you know, Henry. He’ll go a long way . . . if he survives this.”
Havelock expelled his breath in a long-drawn sigh. “I wonder,” he said, his voice low and strained, “how many of us will survive if the commander-in-chief does not reach us soon. Government gave us too little, Sir James, and expected too much of the handful of men they sent us. The odds have been stacked against us right from the outset.”
“But we succeeded,” Outram reminded him. “Against all the odds, Henry, we are in Lucknow.”
“Because we commanded a force of heroes, in which each man gave his all and because this is a heroic garrison. But how much more can flesh and blood stand? I would say this to no one but you, of course, I ” Havelock looked up, meeting his companion’s gaze squarely. “Sir James, we both know that we are trapped here, do we not? We both know, as experienced soldiers, that our losses have been too great to permit a division of our force, and therefore evacuation will not be possible, even for the women and children. Should we not admit it?”
“You are worn out, Henry, my friend,” Outram countered. His tone, however, was uncritical and even sympathetic as he urged Havelock to rest. “You take too much out of yourself. Up till now, you have born the responsibility—but that is over, since I bear it now and shall continue to bear it until Sir Colin Campbell relieves me.” He smiled. “Did you not say to Harry: ‘If the worst comes to the worst, we can but die with our swords in our hands?”‘
“Yes,” Havelock admitted. “I did . . . before we left Cawnpore at the end of July and I began to realize the enormity of the task I was expected to perform.”
“It still holds good, Henry.The worst has not yet come to the worst but, if it should, I think we shall both know how to die.”
“I pray God we shall, James. At least as well as those of our brave company who have gone before us.”
“Amen to that,” Outram said. “Unlike yourself, I am not a religious man, but that shall be my prayer nightly, from now on.” He added, with a flash of wry humor, “I shall also pray that it will not be necessary! Now get some rest, Henry, I beg you, before the staff conference, because I want to get our plan of operation mapped out today. With, in all probability, no more than seven or eight hundred men available for sorties, it will behoove us to plan carefully and I shall need your expert advice. How are your invalids? Have you seen them this morning?”
Havelock shook his head. “The surgeons assure me they are progressing reasonably well. Poor Fraser Tytler is in a good deal of pain, but Harry, they say, is quite cheerful, and Vincent Eyre’s fever is down. I intend to visit them now, but I must first see those poor fellows of Dr. Home’s in the hospital. From what I have so far heard, their courageous and stubborn defense was something of a minor epic—one, indeed, that you might consider worthy of a Cross, perhaps.”
“I shall certainly consider making a recommendation,” Out-ram agreed, “when I’ve studied Home’s report. I’m saddened by the loss of Alex Sheridan, greatly saddened, for he, I understand, inspired their defense.” He sighed and, after another concerned glance at Havelock’s lined and weary face, took out his pocket watch. “I shall have time to visit the hospital, Henry . . . you go straight to your invalids, my dear fellow, and give them my warmest regards. Rest a little in Harry’s company and we will meet at Dr. Fayrer’s at noon.”
“Thank you,” Havelock acknowledged. They separated, and Outram, attended by his aide, Lieutenant Chamier, made for the hospital.
Inside, among those awaiting the attention of the surgeons, they found Becher and Arnold lying si
de by side. Poor Becher could not speak and Outram dropped to his knees, tears filling his eyes as he looked into the ravaged face of the staff officer who had been closer to him than a son.
“We’ll have you moved, Andrew,” he promised. “As soon as the surgeons have dressed that face of yours. Mr. Gubbins’ house is to become the hospital for officers . . . you’ll have every comfort there, my dearest boy. General Havelock tells me that Gubbins contrives somehow to keep a very good table, although I fear it may be a little while before you are able to take advantage of it. I . . .” he broke off, unable to say more and aware that Andrew Becher was not deceived by his forced cheerfulness. Wordlessly, he clasped the injured man’s hand; then, his eyes still misted, he turned to Arnold. “I promised General Neill I would see to it personally that you were recommended for a Victoria Cross for your gallantry at the Char Bagh bridge the day before yesterday, Mr. Arnold . . . and now, it would seem, you have earned a second recommendation. Rest assured that I shall keep my promise most gladly.”
Arnold managed a smile. “The man who earned it is standing over there, sir,” he corrected. “Private Ryan of my regiment. I should be greatly obliged, sir, if you would recommend him in my place.”
General Outram seemed scarcely to have heard him.He moved on, Chamier at his elbow, to speak to Colonel Campbell, who had suffered the amputation of his right leg after being sent in from the Moti Mahal some hours earlier, and Ryan and Webb, both with their arms in makeshift slings, stood respectfully at attention when the A.D.C. pointed them out.
Surgeon Scott wiped the sweat from his brow with a blood-caked arm and made a wry grimace as he watched the general cross the ward. But he said nothing, simply gestured to his assistants and they lifted Arnold onto the operating table; Sergeant Walker, after a cursory glance, reached for one of the pannikins of rum left in readiness at his back and waited expectantly. Scott’s examination was hardly less cursory.
“I’m sorry, laddie,” he told Arnold gruffly. “I shall need to take both your legs off for you.” “Both of them?” Arnold pleaded. “Could you not save me one?”
Scott shook his head. “You’ll not feel the second,” he promised. “And the first will be off before you know it”
Sergeant Walker held out his pannikin, but Ryan stepped forward and, with a mumbled, “Let me give it to him, Sergeant,” took it from him and held it to Arnold’s lips.
The operation was mercifully swift. Arnold made no sound and when it was over, Ryan went with him, to pillow his unconscious head on his knees. He was still there, stiff and motionless, when Scott, coming to check the dressings, told him, with brusque pity, that his officer was dead.
“You’ll get his Cross, lad.” he said, motioning the young Fusilier to his feet. “Be proud of it—he wanted you to have it, you know. I heard him tell the general so.”
Ryan nodded and walked blindly away.
The first sortie was made that afternoon, when 120 men of the Madras Fusiliers, under the command of Major Stephenson, launched an attack on the enemy’s Garden Battery from the Bailey Guard gate. It met with limited success; the battery was gallantly stormed and the guns spiked, but the Fusiliers came under a galling fire from light field guns and musketeers posted in the surrounding buildings and were compelled to retire, after suffering a number of casualties. Next morning, however, a party of only fifty men of the 5th Fusiliers and the 90th advanced through the Chutter Munzil Palace, drove a large enemy force from buildings between the palace and the Khas Bazaar and established a picket that commanded both the Khas and Cheena Bazaars.
General Outram, determined to secure the bridge across the river as a means of opening communication with the city, ordered a second attempt to be made to take it on September 29. His plan of action, worked out in a day-long conference with Havelock and Inglis and their staffs, was to launch three simultaneous sorties against rebel gun batteries, with two columns attacking from the south of the perimeter and one from the north, employing the total seven hundred available troops.
At dawn, the attacks were launched.The column from Innes’ Post and the Redan, on the north-west, unhappily failed to reach the Iron Bridge, which was its main objective but in some desperate fighting, two mortars and four light guns were taken and, compelled to withdraw after suffering very severe casualties, the column took and blew up a twenty-four-pounder cannon that had done immense damage during the first part of the siege.The two columns that emerged from the Brigade Mess and Sikh Square positions, on the south side of the Residency defenses, met with more success.The object of the first was to capture an enemy eighteen-pounder gun on the left front of the Brigade Mess and another in front of the Cawnpore Battery with, if this should prove possible, the guns to the left of the Cawnpore road, known to the defenders as Phillips’ Garden Battery. To take the latter, which was strongly defended, the two columns were to link up in a combined assault.
Initially all went according to plan. The guns, including the eighteen-pounder on the left front, were taken and blown up, and the 78th Highlanders under Captain Lockhart, forming the main body of 140 men, once again distinguished themselves. Covered by the fire of a small party of the 32nd from the roof of Martin Gubbins’ house, they charged the second 18-pounder about which the rebels had rallied and the gallant, red-bearded Sergeant James Young, dashing ahead of the line, seized it at bayonet point before the gunners could reload. He went down, badly wounded by a tulwar slash on the head, and Lockhart fell beside him, but the gun was put out of action and broken by the artillery officers who had charged with them.
The second column, having gained its objectives, linked with the first and a party of two hundred men, led by Captain McCabe of the 32nd, advanced in file, over the debris of a house that had been destroyed during the siege, in the direction of the Cawnpore road.They came under artillery fire but scaled the breastwork and took the two guns that had been firing at them, only to find themselves again under heavy fire from a building to their left. McCabe was mortally wounded when leading a party to clear the lower story; his place was taken by Major Simmons of the 5th Fusiliers, who led the party along a narrow lane running toward the Garden Battery and the road.They were within sight of the leading gun of the battery when Simmons was killed by a musket shot.The Garrison Engineer, Lieutenant Anderson, sent for the column’s reserves and reported the position to Outram, who ordered them to retire.They did so, after demolishing three large houses that had provided shelter for enemy musketeers and blowing up the guns they had taken.The two columns returned to the entrenchment at nine o’clock, having cleared a range of some 300 yards in front of the Brigade Mess position and lost 18 men killed, with a number of others wounded, including the Garrison Engineer.
That evening, Colonel Napier brought in Vincent Eyre’s heavy guns from the Chutter Munzil and, during the hours of darkness, Lousada Barrow and the commander of the Sikh Irregulars, Captain Hardinge—faced with the prospect of near-starvation for their horses if they remained—made an attempt to break out with the entire force of cavalry, in the hope of reaching the Alam Bagh. They were barely 200 strong and they found the investment of the Residency so close and strong that all their efforts failed, and at dawn they were compelled to return with the loss of five of their number but with the heartening intelligence that Major McIntyre appeared to be safely ensconced with his small holding force behind the strong walls of the Alam Bagh.
On the afternoon of October 1, Outram ordered a final sortie to secure possession of Phillips’ Garden Battery and control of the Cawnpore road. It was brilliantly planned and commanded by Napier, the assault force consisting of detachments from every regiment in the combined garrison and amounting to a total of 568 men of all arms. Just after midday, the column formed up on the road leading to the Paen Bagh and it advanced through the buildings near the jail, occupying the main houses on the left and front of the garden. Those in front were barricaded and strongly defended and, leaving a detachment to engage the rebel defenders’ fire, Napier led
his main body to the right, to find that the battery was separated from them only by a narrow lane, some fifteen feet below the garden. The garden, however, was surrounded by a deep mud wall, with strong points at intervals, and the face of the battery, being scarped, was quite inaccessible without scaling ladders. A heavy fire was kept up from the face of the battery and a patrol reported that the lane was blocked by a loopholed barricade. As, by this time, it was dark and a direct attack would be certain to cost many lives, Napier decided to postpone his assault until daylight. The force occupied adjacent buildings to snatch what sleep they could and, at first light, with the artillery opening fire from the Residency in their support, the column reformed and began to advance under a withering deluge of grape and canister and musket balls.
A company of the Madras Fusiliers, under Lieutenant Creagh, succeeded in turning the position by the Cawnpore road, and the rest of the column doubled through the lane, fought a way through the stockade and drove the rebels from it. Phillips’ House was occupied without opposition and, leaving a picket to hold it, Napier ordered a charge to take the guns, which had been withdrawn to the end of the garden. The charge was successful, despite a spirited defense with musketry and grape and, with a company of the 5th in the lead, the guns were seized, dragged back into the garden, and burst.A party of engineers, under Lieutenant Innes, placed explosives in Phillips’ House and blew it up, while the column returned to the buildings they had occupied the previous night, having suffered fewer than thirty casualties.
The next four days were spent in blowing up houses on the Cawnpore road and clearing the whole area of rebels. On October 6, a permanent position was set up in front of Phillips’ Garden and held by the Highlanders; Brayser’s Sikhs entrenched themselves between the Paen Bagh and the Khas Bazaar, and the Fusiliers and the 90th occupied the Chutter Munzil and its two walled enclosures at the river’s edge, with the 64th in the Furhut Baksh, and a detachment of the 84th in the jail. The work of extending the defensive perimeter was, unhappily, not done without loss and, when Napier returned to report his task complete, the name of Neill’s successor to command of the Blue Caps, Major Stephenson, and that of Major Haliburton of the 78th were added to the growing list of killed and wounded. In the new Officers’ Hospital in the financial commissioner’s house, Colonel Campbell of the 90th and Andrew Becher died of their wounds, and Surgeon Home, appointed to serve there, confessed to considerable anxiety over the condition of the gallant Fraser Tytler, who was in great pain and barely holding his own.
