CHAPTER XVII.

DR. J. JEE, C.B., V.C., SURGEON; ASSISTANT-SURGEON V. M. M’MASTER, V.C.; AND LIEUTENANT AND ADJUTANT HERBERT T. MACPHERSON, V.C.

No less than six Victoria Crosses were awarded to the 78th Highlanders, for distinguished conduct in the field during their heroic march to relieve the beleaguered garrison at Lucknow. We have already shown how this honourable distinction was attained by Private Henry Ward, and Lieutenant Bogle: it now remains for us briefly to relate the circumstances under which four other officers of the same regiment—one of whom does not occupy a place in Mr. Desange’s Gallery—earned for themselves the Cross of Valour.

On the 29th of July, 1857, General Havelock fought two battles and gained two victories. The mutinous Sepoys, who had taken up a strong position in the town of Oude, which is intersected by the great road from Cawnpore to Lucknow, endeavoured to intercept the army of rescue in their advance, but were driven from their position with considerable loss. They then fell back upon Busherutgunge, another fortified town, but Havelock gave them little time to rest; in a few hours he was upon them: the 78th Highlanders and the Madras Fusiliers rushed forward with their usual impetuosity, and carried everything before them. The loss of the enemy in these two battles amounted to more than a thousand men; it would have been still greater if Havelock had been provided with cavalry to follow up his victory. The road to Lucknow was now open to him. Many a prayer was offered up for his speedy arrival by the half-famished garrison, whose only hope of deliverance was in him. But was he in a position to advance? Cholera, that insidious foe which almost invariably follows in the track of an army in the field in India, had struck down one-fourth of his gallant band; men who had charged with irresistible fury in the morning, found themselves at night writhing with agony in the deadly grasp of their invisible enemy. In the two battles he had lost nearly a hundred men in killed and wounded; the number was small, but a few more such victories would leave him without an army. He had yet to advance thirty-six miles through a country occupied by the enemy, before he could reach Lucknow, and he had not more than twelve hundred men able to march. This number might be diminished by one-fourth, as he would require a convoy of three hundred men to escort the sick and wounded. It was a severe struggle, but the conclusion was irresistible: the garrison at Lucknow could not be rescued from the fifty thousand rebels that environed them on every side by Havelock’s available force, which fell short of the full complement of a single regiment.

There was no help for it; he must retrace his steps to Cawnpore, and wait there for reinforcements. He was not the man to hesitate in the path of duty; the order was given to fall back on Oude, where his army spent the night. The Highlanders and Fusiliers, flushed with their recent successes, and confident in their own courage, listened to this order with dismay. The road to Lucknow was before them, and why should the general refuse them permission to advance? Did he distrust their courage? They had stood by him in seven battles, and won him as many victories. In such moments of enthusiasm, men’s feelings are strung to the highest pitch; rough-bearded soldiers were seen to wipe the tears from their eyes when, for the first time, they turned their backs upon the enemy. No doubt Havelock felt it as much as any soldier under his command; but he was a man who never allowed feeling to interfere with duty, and when he had once made up his mind nothing could swerve him from his purpose.

The beginning of the month of August was gloomy in the extreme; the garrison at Lucknow, with the massacre of Cawnpore fresh in their memories to remind them of the fate that awaited them if they fell into the hands of the bloodthirsty wretches who hemmed them in on every side, fought as the Greeks fought at Thermopylæ, and chose rather to bury themselves beneath the ruins than surrender. It may be that Havelock suffered more than they did: his heart bled for them; he was prepared to make any sacrifice to save them; but their safety depended on his having a sufficient army to effect their rescue. Neile behaved like a gallant soldier: every man who could be spared from Cawnpore was sent to his aid, and every man who came was welcomed as a treasure. Gradually the little army swelled in numbers till it reached an efficient strength of 1400 men, which it never exceeded; but there were no cowardly, treacherous natives in the ranks, and the general and his soldiers had the fullest confidence in one another.

Again the faces of the men were turned towards Lucknow, and their former enthusiasm revived. On the 4th of August the army was on the march, and the small body of volunteer cavalry was sent forward to reconnoitre. They dashed through Oude without interruption; but on reaching the scene of Havelock’s second victory, they found the enemy had taken possession of a series of hamlets between the town and the lake, with the evident intention of blocking up our line of communication. On the same evening they galloped back to Oude, and informed Havelock that the rebels were waiting his approach. After a night’s bivouac, the army resumed their march, and soon joined issue with the enemy on the scene of their former victory. The result was not long doubtful: shelled from the town by our guns, the rebels were chased through the hamlets by the Highlanders and Fusiliers, and pursued to an open plain beyond. The day was ours, but the victory led to nothing; the enemy again awaited our advance, and Havelock was obliged to retire to his former quarters.

The letters which the gallant old man wrote at this juncture to his family and friends, prove that this was one of the most trying periods of his life. His conduct was liable to misconstruction even among his own men; but he was sustained by a sense of duty, and the inward consciousness of right. If he had ever entertained any doubts about the necessity of falling back upon Cawnpore, they were removed by the position of things in that town. On his arrival, Nana Sahib, the butcher of Bithoor, had collected a body of troops, and was threatening our army on every side; his cavalry swept through the suburbs, and even attempted to force their way through the town. Our communications with Allahabad were threatened, and an immediate blow must be struck. While Havelock was preparing to recross the Ganges, on the morning of the 11th of August, a succession of spies brought him information that four thousand rebels had advanced from Nawabgunge to Busherut, the scene of his former victory, with the evident intention of hanging on his rear, and attacking his column during the passage. To have crossed the river under such circumstances would have been fraught with difficulty, if not with danger, and the rebels would have boasted that they had driven the British forces from the province of Oude by their superior valour. Havelock, knowing that an apparent success on the part of the enemy would destroy the prestige of his former victories, and spread the flame of rebellion through the province, turned round like a lion at bay, and advanced for the third time to encounter the rebel army. On the afternoon of the 11th, his column was in motion, and his advanced guard drove the enemy from the town of Oude. On reaching Busherut, he found their army spread out to a great distance to the right and left, and strongly entrenched in the centre. Their numbers have been estimated at 20,000 men, and their position had been chosen with great skill: their right rested on a village on the main road, where they had established a battery among the gardens; their left, on a rising ground, protected by three guns. Their line is said to have extended five miles, and Havelock saw the necessity of postponing his attack till the following day. His wearied troops returned to Oude, where they bivouacked on the wet ground, and spent the night without shelter amid a deluge of rain. But nothing could daunt their ardour. They rose on the morning of the 12th ready to follow their leader to victory. Our right wing, which consisted of the 78th Highlanders, the Fusiliers, the Sikhs, and part of the Volunteer Cavalry, began the attack, and steadily advanced, till their progress was arrested by a swamp, which in the distance presented the appearance of dry land. As soon as they were within range, the enemy unmasked their battery, which poured forth a deadly shower of round shot, shell, canister, grape, and shrapnel; but, fortunately, their guns were pointed too high, and our men were withdrawn without suffering much loss. The Highlanders moved on to the main road, while the Fusiliers, supported by four guns, diverged to the right. It was no time for manœuvring; an effort must at once be made to silence the enemy’s fire—the most severe we had yet encountered. A flanking fire was opened on the enemy’s line, which threw them into confusion, and at the same moment the Highlanders, now reduced to about a hundred, steadily advanced till they were within a short distance of the enemy’s guns, when they dashed forward with a shout, rushed upon the principal redoubt, and carried it at the point of the bayonet, without firing a shot. The honour of being the first to enter the redoubt was equally divided between two of their officers; and when the officers lead the way, the men will never refuse to follow. The enemy’s infantry broke and fled, and the Highlanders, seizing two of their guns, turned them against them, and drove them through the hamlets to an open plain beyond. Our loss amounted to thirty-two men, while the rebels lost upwards of three hundred; and the general having attained the object he had in view, slowly retraced his steps to Cawnpore, with the two guns he had captured. On reaching that town, the gallantry of the Highlanders in carrying the enemy’s redoubt was recognised in the order of the day; and the general promised to recommend for the Victoria Cross the officer, non-commissioned officer, or soldier who had been the first to enter this work. The Highlanders had charged with such impetuosity, that Colonel Hamilton, their commanding officer, had some difficulty in ascertaining to whom the honour belonged: in such cases, it is best to leave the matter to the decision of the men themselves, and this was done in the present instance. It appeared that two young officers, Lieutenant Campbell and Lieutenant Crowe, cleared the wall of the redoubt at the same moment; the honour was equally divided between them, and both would doubtless have been decorated with the Cross of Valour if they had survived the campaign: but poor Campbell was cut off by cholera the following day, and the distinction was awarded to Lieutenant Crowe, who still continues to enjoy it. This was the second Victoria Cross bestowed upon the 78th Highlanders since Havelock assumed the command of that gallant regiment.

But the fighting was not yet over; other opportunities of distinction awaited those who knew how to profit by them. No sooner had Havelock brought his column across the Ganges, on the 13th of August, than he began to concert his plans for striking a blow at Nana Sahib, who had resumed his former position at Bithoor. On the 14th, the men enjoyed a day’s repose; on the 15th, the gallant Neile left his entrenchment with a mere handful of soldiers, surprised the enemy’s left wing, and drove them, with considerable loss, from the vicinity of Cawnpore. On the 16th, Havelock advanced in the direction of Bithoor with a body of 1300 men, nearly all the available forces that could be collected in the town. After a fatiguing march of eight hours beneath the fierce rays of a tropical sun, they came upon the enemy, who had taken up a strong position in front of Bithoor. They had two guns, and an earthen redoubt in and near a plantation of sugar-canes and castor-oil trees, which reached above the heads of the men, while their batteries, effectually masked, were defended by thick ramparts flanked by entrenched quadrangles. Their position was also flanked by two villages, with loopholed houses and walls: in the hands of a braver foe it would have been almost impregnable; but the Highlanders and Fusiliers, mindful of their past victories, advanced with the certainty of success. After a brief exchange of artillery-fire, those two regiments received the order to charge: the Fusiliers soon cleared the entrenched quadrangles of the enemy, and drove them before them at the point of the bayonet; while the Highlanders rushed upon the battery which was immediately in front of them. On they went, alternately lying down and starting up again, so as to escape the fierce discharges of grape and canister with which the rebels strove to arrest their progress. Now they are in front of the battery, and the foremost of them have cleared the parapet; for a moment the rebels dared to cross bayonets with them, but it was only for a moment; they quailed beneath the stern gaze of the mountaineers, turned, and fled. They were driven through the town of Bithoor, which fell into our hands; it was impossible to pursue them farther, and our troops bivouacked on the ground they had so bravely won. Here, as on every other occasion when victory crowned our arms, the want of cavalry was severely felt: we reaped all the honours, but few of the solid advantages which attend success.

The battle of Bithoor was the conclusion of Havelock’s first brief, but brilliant campaign for the relief of Lucknow. In a few weeks with a single column he had defeated the enemy, who were vastly superior to him in numbers, in five pitched battles; thrice he had advanced in the direction of Lucknow, and thrice he had been compelled to retire, not by the rebels, but by the ravages of disease, and the want of transport for his sick and wounded. Every victory he gained weakened his numbers, and might almost have justified the exclamation of Pyrrhus—“Another such victory, and I am undone.” Every urgent appeal for reinforcements remained unheeded, and his little army required repose. It was not that the authorities were unwilling to reinforce him, but they had really no troops to spare, so fiercely had the tide of rebellion set in on every side. When he returned to Cawnpore on the 19th of August, he had seventeen officers and four hundred and sixty-six men on the sick list; or, in other words, about one-fourth of his army was unfit for service, and the rest were so exhausted that they could scarcely take the field. Havelock and Neile thirsted to encourage their handful of men by leading them against the enemy; but they knew that personal feeling must be subordinate to the one great object of the campaign—the relief of Lucknow. It would have defeated that object to have frittered away their forces in gaining victories which ended in nothing; all that could be done was to recruit the exhausted energies of their men, and to wait for reinforcements.

The rebels, encouraged by their apparent inactivity, and mistaking its cause, assembled in great force on the Oude side of the river, and threatened to cross at two different places; while, on the other bank, the small British force from Calpee was exposed to the attacks of the Gwalior Contingent. This compulsory delay was equally trying to all; but what could be done with an “army” of seven hundred men, when opposed to thirty-seven thousand armed and disciplined soldiers? Every day the general’s telegrams became more urgent and importunate. He was prepared “to fight anything and at any odds;” but he knew that it would be madness to advance to Lucknow with the mere handful of men under his command. There were twenty thousand rebels between him and that town; and though the fact was well established, that the Asiatics were unable to withstand the fierce onset of the smallest number of British troops, yet no victory was gained without a certain amount of loss on our part; and this loss, added to the ravages of disease, would have caused his little army to melt away before he reached Lucknow. On the 21st of August, he announced that, if he were not speedily reinforced, he would abandon the enterprize as hopeless, and return to Allahabad, from which he had begun his career of victory about two months before. Meanwhile, he continued to strengthen his position at Cawnpore, and to send his sick and wounded to Allahabad, so that all who remained might be able to take the field.

It would be difficult to say which of the two—Havelock or Inglis—was most to be pitied. The former, after he was compelled to retreat, wrote a note, which the messenger contrived to convey to Inglis in safety. Nothing was concealed; his failure was freely admitted, and he concluded by saying, “You must aid us in every way, even to cutting your way out; if we can’t force our way in. We have only a small force.” Inglis received this note on the 15th, and on the 23rd the messenger, who was seven days on the way, and had many narrow escapes, brought back his reply. The garrison at Lucknow was reduced to the last extremity: within the walls of the Residency were 120 sick and wounded men; 220 women, and 230 children; their stock of provisions was almost exhausted; officers and civilians had to toil from morning to night like common labourers; cholera and the bullets of the enemy were gradually thinning their numbers: but amid all their privations and sufferings they never dreamed of surrendering. It was better to die within their entrenchments than to be massacred in cold blood by the ruthless foe without; so they continued to hold out till the end of the month, when hope again began to dawn upon the little army of rescue at Cawnpore. Two thousand men belonging to different regiments were on their way from Calcutta to join them; and the Naval Brigade, which was composed of five hundred “blue jackets,” under Captain Peel, who had already distinguished himself in the Crimea, had left by steamer on the 20th. There was a quarter of a million of public money in the Residency at Lucknow; but the Governor-General wrote to Havelock to leave it behind, or to use it in any way that might best contribute to the deliverance of the garrison.

A new actor now appears upon the scene. The gallant Outram, the Bayard of India, “sans peur et sans reproche,” having brought the Persian war to a successful conclusion, hurried back to Calcutta, and was appointed to the chief command in the Cawnpore district. He entered on his command at Cawnpore on the 18th of August, two days after Havelock had gained his tenth victory over the rebels. On the 1st of September he reached Allahabad, where he found himself at the head of nearly 1700 men of different regiments. Leaving 300 to garrison the town, he hurried on with the rest to reinforce Havelock. Officers and men were equally anxious to have a brush with the “Pandies,” and to prevent the horrors of Cawnpore from being repeated at Lucknow. After cutting off a body of 300 insurgents who were about to cross the Ganges into Doab, Outram joined Havelock on the 15th of September, and in the exercise of a noble self-denial which will endear his name to posterity more than all his brilliant achievements, offered to serve as a volunteer in that army which he had a right to command. In the spirit of true charity, he sacrificed personal feeling to a higher sense of justice, and insisted that Havelock should complete the work he had so well begun. He admired Havelock with that sincere, unselfish admiration which none but such generous souls can feel, and scorned the idea of robbing him of his laurels. On the 16th he issued an order, announcing that Havelock was promoted to the rank of major-general, and would continue to hold the command of the army until the relief of Lucknow had been achieved; he himself would accompany it as a volunteer, proud to serve in any capacity under such a leader. Havelock’s heart was touched by this “characteristic generosity of feeling,” which had the best effect upon the men, and infused into them something of that chivalrous feeling of which Outram had given such a noble display.

Before leaving Cawnpore, the two generals telegraphed to the Governor-General to inquire whether, if Lucknow were recaptured, they should hold it at all hazards, so as to maintain the _prestige_ of the British arms, and received the following sensible reply:—“Save the garrison; never mind our _prestige_ just now, provided you liberate Inglis: we will recover _prestige_ afterwards. I cannot just now send you any more troops. Save the British in the Residency, and act afterwards as your strength will permit.” Better advice could not have been given, and the two generals proceeded at once to act upon it. Two months had elapsed since Havelock entered Cawnpore as a conqueror; his noble spirit chafed at the thought that his victories had contributed nothing to the rescue of the garrison; but now a brighter prospect opened up before him; his army was reinforced, and he and Outram marched forth from Cawnpore with the stern resolve to save the half-famished women and children at Lucknow, or perish in the attempt. All ranks were animated by the same feeling; they had confidence in their generals and in themselves, and they already counted on success.

On the 19th of September they crossed the Ganges into Oude by a bridge of boats which had been constructed by Captain Crommelin, and the enemy assembled on the banks offered only a feeble resistance. The rapid advances of our men enabled them to overtake them on the 21st, when they rushed upon them, turned their right flank, drove them from their position, and captured four of their guns. No wonder that success attended an army in which Outram was serving as a volunteer: during the day he headed one of the charges, and the men, inspired by his example, carried everything before them. The enemy were pursued with such rapidity that they had not time to destroy the Bunnee bridge over the Sye, and on the 23rd Havelock again overtook them. They had now taken up a strong position, and were resolved to make a desperate stand: their left was posted in the enclosure of the Alum Bagh, and their centre and right on low hills. This position was so close to Lucknow that the firing could be distinctly heard in the Residency; and when Havelock discharged his biggest guns, to tell them that help was at hand, the garrison thought it the grandest _feu de joie_ they had ever heard. The dying seemed to receive new life; some wept, others prayed; all prepared to welcome their deliverers. But though they were now only two miles from Lucknow, they had still many difficulties to encounter, and Havelock saw the necessity of giving his wearied troops, who had been marching three days under a deluge of rain, a little repose before entering on the final struggle. On the 24th he pitched his camp, and allowed his men to rest till the morning of the 25th, when, leaving his baggage and tents under the charge of an escort in the Alum Bagh, he resumed his march.

It is unnecessary here to describe the heroic advance of our little army, the fierce resistance they encountered, the losses they sustained, and the decisive victory they at length obtained; all this is matter of history, and can never be forgotten. If we confine our attention to the Highlanders, and the part they acted in the rescue of Lucknow, we do so from no desire to depreciate the courage of others who shared in the dangers of the day; our only object is to show in what way three brave men earned for themselves the Cross of Valour and a place in Mr. Desanges’s gallery. The Highlanders, the 90th Light Infantry, and the Sikh Regiment of Ferozpore formed the second infantry brigade, under the command of Colonel Hamilton, who held the temporary rank of brigadier. After the desperate resistance of the rebels at the Char Bagh bridge had been overcome by the gallant charge of the Madras Fusiliers, the Highlanders received orders to advance by the Cawnpore road to the Residency, so as to cover the passage of the troops and baggage, and protect them while the heavy guns captured from the enemy were being thrown into the canal. While the rest of the troops defiled to the right, and began to thread their way through the narrow lane which led to the Residency, the Highlanders maintained their position at the head of the street till the camp followers, with the baggage and wounded, had crossed the bridge. For three hours they remained there, immovable as a rock, unshaken by the menaces of the insurgents; again and again the rebels dashed themselves against them in overwhelming numbers, and were driven back at the point of the bayonet; their supply of ammunition had repeatedly to be renewed; their ranks were gradually thinned by the murderous fire to which they were exposed; but they only drew the closer together, and fought on as before. This, the post of danger, had been assigned to them; they were determined to guard it to the last.

Maddened by their own losses and the continued resistance of the Highlanders, the rebels had recourse to another mode of attack. Two brass 9-pounders were dragged forward, and brought to bear on the Highlanders; not a moment was to be lost; the first discharge would leave furrows of dead and wounded in their ranks. Herbert Macpherson, the adjutant of the regiment, proved himself equal to the occasion. This brave young officer was endeared to the men from family connexion and personal character; he was a son of that Colonel Macpherson who commanded the regiment for many years, and shared their dangers in almost every part of the globe. He was almost a son of the regiment, and the feeling of attachment which the men cherished toward him on his father’s account, was increased by the considerate kindness with which he discharged the duties of adjutant. He had only to lead the way, and they would follow him anywhere. There were the guns drawn up in front of them, ready to pour forth their murderous fire; Macpherson leaped forward, waving his sword; he was not left alone; others were soon by his side; then came a rush, a cheer, a brief conflict, and all was over. The two guns were seized by brawny arms, and hurled into the canal: after this the Highlanders calmly resumed their former position, and continued to act on the defensive. The impetuosity of their attack was only equalled by their firmness under fire, and these two qualities are rarely united in the same men. The non-combatant officers were animated by the same spirit, and proved themselves worthy of the regiment to which they belonged. Numbers of wounded Highlanders were scattered along the streets of Lucknow in the course of that bloody conflict, and the two surgeons of the regiment frequently risked their own lives in ministering to their wants and superintending their removal. Ten officers and one-fourth of the men were killed or wounded; the skill, the courage, and the energy of the surgeons were taxed to the utmost. Soldiers are not ungrateful, and the Highlanders proved on this occasion that they could appreciate the calm courage of M’Master, who bound up their wounds while the bullets of the enemy were whistling around his head, as well as the dashing bravery of Macpherson, who led them on when they seized the two guns and hurled them into the canal. Two Victoria Crosses were awarded to the regiment, and it was left to the corps to decide who were the men most worthy to wear them. One was assigned to Lieutenant and Adjutant (now Major) Macpherson, for the deed of distinguished courage which we have already described; the other was bestowed, by the universal acclamation of the soldiers, on Assistant-Surgeon Valentine M’Master, for the devoted gallantry with which he risked his life in binding up the wounds and securing the retreat of the men under his charge disabled by the bullets of the enemy. The same honour was afterwards conferred on Dr. J. Jee, the surgeon of the regiment, who had displayed the greatest courage and humanity in bringing in and attending to the wounded.

In two months the Highlanders had fought twelve battles; in four days they had lost _one-third_ of their number; their march through the streets was like a march through a sea of fire; but onward they went, dauntless, though not unscathed. And now they are within the walls of the Residency, where the ladies are pressing around them, and rendering thanks to heaven for their deliverance, and yielding their babes to the fond caresses of those stern warriors whose eyes, still glaring with the fury of battle, are soon suffused with tears, as they restore them to their mothers and turn aside to talk of comrades who have fallen, or of the dear ones they have left behind. The Rachels of Lucknow had no occasion that night to weep for their children because they were not; a strong hand and a mighty arm had brought them deliverance; and many a lip trembled with the grateful prayer of the Hebrew warrior: “Not unto us, not unto us, O Lord! but unto Thy name do we give glory.”