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Chapter 14

Naval Brigades’ missives to the enemy – The D. D. Bungalows – Ordered to be shot as a spy! – A false colour cut down by Peel – Attack on the Mess House, Observatory, and Moti Mahal Palace – The gallant Worseley of the 90th Foot – Abused by Sir Colin Campbell for a Hibernicism – Worseley and the British banner – A dangerous run to Sir James Outram – A hearty welcome home – Race back to Sir Colin – An unexpected introduction, and a glorious meeting of the Chiefs Outram, Havelock and Campbell – Grand objects of my escape effected – Generous reception by my comrades – A mean reward – Retreat to Kanhpur – General Wyndham surprised by men on a dog-cart – Reception of the Lucknow refugees at Calcutta

The indefatigable Naval Brigade threw shells and rockets into the enemy almost without intermission, and Sir Colin was early on the move again. He made himself acquainted with the localities both sides of the river, and pressed upon the enemy on his left so as to keep clear his communication with the Martinière. I was sent with Colonel Biddulph, and a detachment of European Infantry and Madras Sappers, under the command of the portly and gallant Colonel Hale, of the 82nd Foot, to take possession of the English houses along the route which had been proposed by Sir James Outram. It was done with little opposition, but through an error of mine it was nearly the death of Colonel Hale; and at one of the Bungalows an order was afterwards issued to shoot me!

Colonel Hale was relieved by a detachment of the

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23rd Fusiliers. I revisited the Bungalows, and minutely examined the posts of the enemy in that direction. I was not known by sight to any of the new comers, and my singular dress made my position with the army doubtful. My persevering curiosity at last attracted the suspicion of a serjeant, who reported my extraordinary proceedings to Major Bruce, with his opinion that I was a spy of the enemy! I stood in advance of the sentries, and was on the point of running a considerable distance further, when I thought of returning for a glass. Major Bruce then learnt my name, and informed me that he had authorized the serjeant to shoot me if I attempted to approach the mutineers. The return for a glass had saved my life 1 The gallant and unpretending Colonel Biddulph was afterwards shot at this place.

The enemy were evidently distressed at their reverses and the destructive fire from our heavy guns; and some began to desert to Faizabad. Sir Colin, pleased at the sight, watched from the towers of the Sikandarbagh the broken lines of citizens and soldiers flying in that direction, and easily augured the alarm produced by his progress thus far. The only positions now to be forced were the buildings known as the “Mess House,” the “Observatory,” and the “Moti Mahal.” The enemy, seeing a Union Jack hoisted by the beleaguered garrison, mounted another near the Kaisarbagh Palace to mislead us, but I warned the Chief of the artful design, and soon after a shot from Captain Peel cut down the ensign. A force led by Colonel Robert Napier had sallied out of the garrison the day before, and in a very spirited manner forced the defenders from the building known as the “Steam Engine House,” and the enclosures adjoining; and Sir James Outram threw

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shot and shell into those three positions to assist Sir Colin Campbell.

In the afternoon a storming party was formed under the orders of Captain Worseley, of the 90th Foot, who was directed to obey my wishes. The enemy escaped from the Mess House as we rushed into it. From the roof I rapidly examined the strength of the enemy in the Observatory on the left, and the Moti Mahal on our right; and, observing that the former was weakly occupied, and the latter not difficult to capture, I requested Captain Worseley to send twenty-five of his men to the Tara Bothee, who soon cleared it, and to follow me with fifty more. As we leaped from our cover the enemy poured grape and a heavy matchlock-fire from the walls of the Kaisarbagh, through which we ran two hundred yards. The mutineers met us with a fusillade through the low loop-holes of the Moti Mahal. I suggested that we should seize the loop-holes, but, as I was not understood, I took the rifles of the men, and drove the enemy from three of them; when the artifice being thus explained, the men rushed to the openings, and forced the mutineers from their defences. This gave us the command of the front yard, from which they retired precipitately.

Captain Worseley, gallantly maintained his advantage while I searched outside for a passage to the interior, without succeeding. I returned through the fire from the palace to fetch sappers to break in, and, seeing me run alone, the matchlock-men yelled from the walls and increased their volleys. I remounted my trooper near the Mess House, and was lifting him over the wall to reach Sir Colin, when he observed my haste.

“Where are you going to? What have you done?”.

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“I ventured, sir, to order Captain Worseley to occupy the Observatory, and I am happy to say that he has captured the Moti Mahal.”

“Ah! glad to hear it!”

“But, sir,” I continued, “we have not got into it!”

Sir Colin’s hasty blood mounted hot to his cheeks, and he almost roared at me, “What do you mean, sir? You first say you have captured the place, and then that you have not got into it! What am I to think of the contradiction? You have told an untruth, sir! I have lost confidence, and will never believe you again!”

His Excellency went on in the angry style I had unwittingly provoked, till I ventured to remind him that I had come for sappers, by whom a passage could be forced in a few minutes. I quickly returned with them, passing a third time, unhurt, through the fire from the palace, which did not miss us all. A breach was soon made; Captain Worseley, who delighted in dash and danger, fell upon the enemy as they tried to escape, and in half an hour he was seen on the top of the inner buildings waving the British banner.

He was a spirited and intelligent officer who needed very little assistance from me, and, the moment I saw him engaged, I withdrew alone to attempt reaching Sir James Outram. I was again under fire till I reached “Martin’s House,” where I met a soldier of the 64th Foot, from the Residency. In company with him we encountered the fire of the enemy as we ran with all our might towards a group of officers standing under cover of the “Steam Engine House,” who looked through their glasses as I rose to the high ground before them. Sir David Baird’s cotton quilted tunic, Sir Colin’s breeches and felt helmet, and my long jack

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boots, so altered my appearance, that I reached the group, panting for breath, before being recognised.

“It is Kavanagh! three cheers for him He is the first to relieve us!”

Reader, if you have never heard the voice of comrades in praise, and felt the hard pressure of the hand that sends the blood leaping to the heart, in the midst of the loud clangor of war, you will not understand the joy that moistened my eyes when such leaders as Outram, Havelock, Napier, and their splendid staff, pressed forward to greet and congratulate my humble self. It was the proudest moment of my life 1

“Are you willing, Sir James, to join the Commander-in-Chief at once? The road is clear, but there is that fire from the palace to be encountered.”

“Never mind it!” replied Sir James Outram, who turned to the staff and desired them to follow.

Sir James is no runner, and he jogged slowly through the bullets of the enemy, who were greatly excited at the gallant sight. But some of us overdid the run, and scratched our noses in the gravel. Colonel Napier, Lieutenant Sitwell, and the gallant son of Havelock were wounded, and the rest stayed under the corner of the Moti Mahal as the chivalrous Sir James and myself continued onwards. He made poor use of his strong legs, notwithstanding that grape was now added to bullets, and that my inclination was far ahead of myself. Sir James stood in the shade of a but inside the “Mess House” enclosure, while I searched for the Commander-in-Chief.

“Sir James Outram is waiting, sir, to see you.”

“The devil he is! where is he? where has he come from?”

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“I have fetched him, Sir Colin, from the Residency, and he is standing yonder.”

“Well done! lead the way!”

The Chief followed, and I had the honour of introducing his great brother in arms to our deliverer.

“I am delighted to meet you, Sir James, and I congratulate you on the successful defence of Lucknow.”

Sir James complimented the Chief on his brilliant achievement, as he dismounted from his grey charger, and earnestly shook hands.

“Are you prepared, Sir James, to quit the Residency in two hours? Time is precious.”

“It is impossible, Sir Colin,” replied Sir James, looking surprised at the demand.

“Nothing is impossible, sir!” sharply retorted the impetuous old Chief.

“If you will permit me to explain the reasons for considering it impracticable, you will, Sir Colin, be well satisfied that it cannot be done,” deliberately answered Sir James; looking somewhat startled at his Chief’s peremptory manner.

“Very well, Sir James, we’ll discuss this as early as possible.”

He generously turned to speak of me in terms of praise, which I need not repeat. Havelock then approached, and was heartily received by Sir Colin Campbell, as the news passed through the relieving force that the Residency defenders were saved. The whole plain resounded with the roar of artillery, and the proud hurrahs of delight and defiance of our brave deliverers, who crowded forward to witness the affecting meeting of the Chiefs.

This remarkable meeting has been suitably represented

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by Mr. T. Jones Barker, in a grand painting styled The Relief of Lucknow, which was prepared from drawings made on the spot by Mr. E. Lundgren, for Messrs. Thomas Agnew and Son, of Manchester and Liverpool. The neighbourhood, involved in smoke, and the confusion of the combatants, is so admirably delineated, that while looking at the picture the imagination is involuntarily carried back to the time and the place where Outram and Havelock welcomed the victorious Sir Colin Campbell, in the midst of a splendid staff of officers composed of such leaders as Hope Grant, Mansfield, Peel, V.C., Napier, Inglis, Adrian Hope, Russell, Greathed, Little; and clever and spirited officers like Norman, Moorsom, (abounding in zeal and intelligence,) Alison, Stewart, Johnstone, Probyn, V.C., Watson, V.C., Metcalfe, Forster, Roberts, V.C., and the dashing Anson, also decorated with the Queen’s most honourable Cross.

Look again, reader, at the glorious meeting of the Chiefs, and listen to the manly greetings of Havelock, Outram, and the Scotch leader. Observe the pale slender figure in the friendly grasp of the strong stern Highlander. His white hairs have grown grey; his handsome features have been clouded by cares, and illumined by rejoicings; the arm extended to the Chief bzig waved British troops to victory; and the feeble trembling body has spent its youth, its manhood, and its decline, under the immortal colours of England. His honest heart has throbbed nearly half a century in the service of the State, and this is the last time it is to rejoice at its successes. Havelock is dying! It is his last act in the great drama begun by himself; and, seven days later, he was carried to the grave, with a soul as

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well prepared for his Maker as the longings of an earnest Christian could make it. His comrades dropped tears upon the earth that covered him, and nations have mourned the loss of a GOOD MAN.

I effected the grand objects of my ambition; I saved many lives16, and, by hastening the relief, gained precious time for Sir Colin Campbell, and his clever coadjutor General Outram, to execute the masterly retreat that rescued the suffering garrison; which obtained for those able officers well-deserved renown; and wrenched Kanhpur from the grasp of the Gwalior Army that was sorely pressing General Wyndham. In a despatch to the Government of India, the Commander-in-Chief acknowledged my services as follows:–

“This escape, at a time when the entrenchment was closely invested by a large army, and when communication, even through the medium of natives, was almost impossible, is, in Sir Colin Campbell’s opinion, one of the most daring feats ever attempted; and the result was most beneficial, for, in the immediate subsequent advance on Lucknow of the force under the Commander-in-Chief’s directions, the thorough acquaintance with the localities possessed by Mr. Kavanagh, and his knowledge of the approaches to the British position, were of the greatest use; and His Excellency desires to record his obligations to this gentleman, who accompanied him throughout

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the operations, and was ever present to afford valuable information.”

Think, reader, whether great successes like those were worth a paltry life like mine – whether the honourable fame which the world has generously accorded to so humble a creature, was worth so hazardous an adventure? It will be learnt from this narrative that I did not go out as a mere messenger, as some persons have erroneously supposed, but to execute a scheme of my own devising, requiring more than common tact, courage, and intelligence.

My generous comrades had anxiously watched for the announcement of my safety, and welcomed it with an emotion and expression of joy, which filled my soul with intense pleasure. As I re-entered the defences our excellent soldiers pressed forward to welcome me back, and admiring expressions dropped from the lips of the officers as I passed. As I listened to the upbraidings of my weeping wife, and soothed her fond heart, my friends came in “only to look at you!” as some said.

Nothing is comparable to the glory of a good deed, and few things are more gratifying then the sound of manly voices applauding it. Were not greetings like those worth striving for? Was the applause of a world worth the venture of a life exposed to perils that might at any moment extinguish it? Certainly; and when such a service is needed again, men will be found under the Banner of England to do it.

Sir Colin Campbell reached Kanhpur by forced marches, and arrived in time to preserve his communication, and to reassure the garrison, which was alarmed by failures. The families tremblingly crossed the river

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by the bridge of boats, through the fire of the enemy, and preparations were made for their safe conduct to Allahabad. I slept in the entrenchment the first night, and in the morning was surprised to find that the regiments from the Crimea were composed of untried youths, who squandered their ammunition on the most insignificant objects. I thought I saw considerable misapprehension as to the proceedings of the enemy, who did not appear to use the advantages surrendered to them.

I purchased a dog-cart and pony, and having occasion to return to the entrenchment the following afternoon with Mr. William Forder, (who did not know where I was taking him,) I drove through a part of the town nearest to the fort where the enemy, it was said, were strongly posted. As I emerged from the houses towards the British defences a stout handsome officer issued from the gateway, apparently vexed, and stopped me.

“May I ask whether you are in possession of your senses?” was the impertinent enquiry.

“Yes!” I answered, “I am in perfect possession of my senses.”

“Then do you know where you have been to?”

“Yes; I know perfectly well where I have been.”

“Do you know,” he continued, “that it is occupied by the enemy?”

“I know very well that it is not, as you have just seen.”

“Perhaps,” he mockingly observed, “you would like to continue your drive in that direction,” pointing to the Assembly Rooms occupied by the enemy, where two officers of the 64th Foot were supposed to be hanging.

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“If you consider that any public good is to be gained by my going there in a dog-cart, I am ready to do it,” an assertion which brought back the good humour of the officer, who smiled. I passed on to the gate, where the guard he had turned out to the rescue congratulated me on a lucky escape. Further on I learnt that it was General Wyndham to whom I had spoken! The encounter vastly pleased me, for he is a brave officer whom I was most anxious to meet, though I never hoped to surprise him.

We reached Allahabad, and then Calcutta, where the Lucknow refugees and wounded soldiers were welcomed in a suitable manner by Earl Canning and the European population, who crowded to the landing-place to pour forth their generous feelings in hearty cheers as the veiled widows and orphans mounted the carpeted steps, followed by their more fortunate female companions, and the sick, blind, and maimed veterans who had heroically defended them through many a dark night of dangerous toil, and days of intense heat and severe fighting. The crowd kindly gave one more cheer for “Lucknow Kavanagh,” as I led my family to the conveyance, which was to carry them home.

Footnotes

16. And the public treasure. Two days later, and Sir Colin would have thought no more of abandoning the treasure and jewels, amounting to over £300,000, than he did of capsizing carts loaded with elephants’ tusks, which the prize agents had zealously packed for removal. Kanhpur would have been in such danger, and the retreat so insecure by the delay, that the treasure could not have been fetched away excepting at the risk of sacrificing the army. The Government of India gave me for this, and the other more important services, £2,000! Contrast this with the liberality of the public to Tom Sayers! This spirited fellow will be made comfortable for life for maintaining the British character for pluck in a Prize Ring.

This collection transcribed by Chris Gage
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