" Again and again they made the attempt, but back they had to go by a steady fire. Their chiefs came to the front, and shouted out, Come on, come on—the place is ours—it is taken.' And the Sepoys would then rush forward, then hesitate, and finally got under cover of the stockade, and kept up a fearful fire. Some hundreds of them got under the Cawnpore Battery, but found the hand-grenades rather disagreeable, and had to bolt rather sharp. Poor Major Banks came up, and cheered us during the hottest fire, and we were glad to see him. Our shells now began to fall amongst the enemy, and this still further roused their indignation. You could hear additional yells and horrid imprecations on the heads of all CHRISTIANS. No less than three times were we assaulted by enormous odds against us, and each attack was, thank God, successfully repulsed. There we were, a little body, probably not eighty men in all (i.e. Cawnpore Battery, our post, and Captain Germon's), opposed to several thousands of merciless bloodthirsty fanatics. We well knew what we had to expect if we were defeated ; and, therefore, each individual fought, as it were, for his very life ; each loophole displayed a steady flash of musketry, as defeat would have been certain death to every soul in the garrison. Had the outposts fallen, they were in such immense numbers that we could never have turned the enemy out, and then not a man, woman, or child would have been spared. It was, indeed, a most anxious time, and the more so, as we did not know how matters were progressing at other points. We dreaded that the others might have been even further pressed than we were. At intervals I heard the cry of more men this way ' ; and off would rush two or three (all we could possibly spare) here and there ; and then the same cry was repeated in an opposite direction, and then the men had to rush to support their comrades, who were more hotly pressed, and so on ; as the pressure became greater at particular places, men rushed to those spots to give assistance. During this trying time even the poor wounded men ran out of the hospitals, and those who had wounds in the legs threw away their crutches, and deliberately knelt down, and fired as fast as they could out of the loopholes. Others, who could do little else, loaded the muskets, whilst the able-bodied soldiers fired ; and in this odd manner these brave men of her Majesty's 32nd upheld the honour of their nation, and strained every nerve to repel the furious attacks of the enemy." Leaving the Cawnpore Battery we pursue our walk past Duprat's Post, where a gallant Frenchman did right good service for us, till we come to a pillar which marks Gubbin's house. This was two stories in height and solidly built of masonry. " On the southern side a spacious and handsome portico marked the principal front, and beyond it soared a lofty forest tree, covered in spring with pale yellow blossoms. During the siege its colossal trunk and massive branches interrupted many a round shot : day by day the boughs were shot away till little but the stem remained. As a huge branch came crashing down, an old Sikh soldier remarked, ' It has repaid all the Company's salt.' The battered trunk of the old tree still stands before the ruins of the house, a striking memorial of the great siege." From Gubbin's Post we walk to the Begum's Khote and descend to the subterranean apartments where the ladies passed their days during the siege. One of them has given us a description of their daily life : " We all sleep (that is, eleven ladies and seven children) on the floor of the Tye Khana, where we spread mattresses and fit into each other like bits in a puzzle, so as best to feel the punkah. The gentlemen sleep upstairs in a long verandah sort of room on the side of the house least exposed to fire. My bed consists of a purdah and a pillow. In the morning we all roll up our bedding, and pile them in heaps against the wall. We have only room for very few chairs down there, which are assigned to invalids, and most of us take our meals seated on the floor, with our plates on our knees. We are always obliged to light a candle for break fast and dinner as the room is perfectly dark. Our usual fare consists of stew, as being easiest to cook ; it is brought up in a large deckger (copper stew-pan), so as not to dirty a dish, and a portion ladled out to each person. Of course we can get no bread or butter, so chapathies (unleavened cakes) are the dis agreeable substitute." For about half an hour in the evening the women were permitted to sit in the portico and breathe a little fresh air. This was in the fiery month of July. Even in December we are glad to escape from the dark dungeon and find our selves in the sunlight. Calm and beautiful is the scene. The sky is as blue as in Italy ; the sward is as trim and green as in England, and glorious red roses are in full bloom. We mount the steps which lead to the handsome marble cross erected in memory of " Henry Lawrence and the brave men who fell in defence of the Residency." From the topmost step we see in the far distance the city with its cupolas and domes ; at the foot of the garden flows the Goomtee, whose banks are lined with cornfields and groves of noble trees. Yet this spot is the scene of a great agony. Here men, women and children dwindled away, worn out by wounds and disease. Here often must they have watched for signs of relief, but for three months the weary eyes saw the dawn burst forth over the city and the burning sun set, and no succour came to them. Then one day as a flight of bullets swept over their heads a whistling sound was heard and a cry arose from the soldiers, " It is the Minie ! " the bullet of the Minie rifle. At once they understood that friends were near, and they gazed searchingly about the lines, but they could only see the enemy firing swiftly and heavily from the flat roofs of the houses. Then, after the lapse of five long minutes they beheld our soldiers fighting their way through one of the main streets. From the Memorial Cross we make our way to the churchyard which lies below. Beneath the shade of some wide-spreading trees there are a multitude of graves, around which are growing bright flowers, and the paths are radiant with roses. The inscriptions tell us the spot contains the sacred dust of heroes. We walk to a plain tomb and slowly read, " Here lies Henry Lawrence, who tried to do his duty. May the Lord have mercy on his soul." After leaving the Residency, we drive to the great Imam bara, or largest room in the world which has an arched roof without supports. The historian of Indian Architecture writes : " This immense building is covered with vaults of very simple form and still simpler construction, being of a rubble or coarse concrete several feet in thickness, which is laid on a rude mould or centreing of bricks and mud, and allowed to stand a year or two to set and dry. The centreing is then removed, and the vault, being in one piece, stands without abutment or thrust, apparently a better and more durable form of roof than our most scientific Gothic vaulting, certainly far cheaper and far more easily made, since it is literally cast on a mud form, which may be moulded into any shape the fancy of the architect may dictate." The Imambara was built by the Nawab Asuf-ud-daulah, in the year of the great famine, 1784, in order to afford relief to the famine-stricken people. Legend relates that many of high rank were driven by hunger to join in the work, and that to spare their feelings their names were called out at night and their wages paid to them. The monarch in vited the architects to submit their plans to competition, and only stipulated that the building should be no mere copy, and that it should surpass all other buildings in beauty and magnificence. The magnificent ornaments and decorations which adorned the building have perished, but the Imam bara stands a graceful monument of the monarch who erected it and who lies buried in it. It was after the reign of Asuf-ud-daulah that buildings began to be erected in Lucknow which are the most debased example of archi tecture in India. A court steeped in luxury and vice sought only to erect palaces bastard in style and of tawdry splen dour.
From the Imambara we drive past the Residency to the Kaisar Bagh, or Garden of built by the ex-King, Waji Ali Shah, at a cost of eighty lakhs, and, entering the gateway, pass up an open court in front of the gateway, called the Jilarkhana or place from which the royal procession used to start. An old traveller, who wrote an interesting account of a " Tour along the Ganges and Jumna," has given a gra phic description of a royal procession in Lucknow : " As we approach the grand gateway the massive folding doors flew open, and the Nawab advanced surrounded and fol lowed by his principal courtiers, all on elephants richly capari soned, and they in their most splendid and costly costumes. This spectacle was uncommonly grand and impressive, the rich ness of the housings of the elephants, fifty in number, the im mense and gaudy banners, the spirited and beautiful Arab horses : all this splendid pageant, bursting at once from a noble gateway embosomed in a wood, had an effect at once magnificent and highly picturesque." Passing through a gateway covered by a screen, we cross the Chini Bagh (so called from the large China vessels with which it was decorated), and passing under a gate flanked by green mermaids, we reach the Hazrat Bagh. On the right is the Chandiwali Barandari, which 'used to be paved with silver, and the Badshah Manzil which used to be the special residence of the King. On the left is a file of build ings called the Chaulakhi, built by the royal barber and sold to his sovereign for four lakhs. Here resided the Begum and her chief ladies, and in the days of the Mutiny the rebel Queen here held her court. In one of the stables nigh at hand were confined the British captives who were taken from hence to be cruelly murdered. Passing onward, we come to another great gateway which leads to a fine open square, the buildings round which were occupied chiefly by ladies of the harem. A little beyond this we reach a build ing known as Kaiser Pasand, or Caesar's Pleasure; surmounted by a gilt semi-circle and hemisphere : in it three English ladies and two Englishmen were confined during the Mutiny, and from it led to be brutally massacred with the other cap tives. Opposite the door of the Kaisar Bagh is the monu ment which marks the spot where the foul deed was per petrated. Raja Lal Singh, a great and influential landlord, followed the prisoners to the fatal scene and mounted one of the gates of the Kaisar Bagh, since destroyed, in order to better feast his eyes on the dying agonies of the victims. After the Mutiny he had been received back into favour, his rebellion was condoned by the amnesty, and he must have persuaded himself that the memory of his deed had faded away, when justice overtook him. His confidential servants turned against him, and thus link after link, a wonderful chain of circumstantial evidence developed itself and brought home his guilt. Two years after the com
mission of his crime, on the very spot on which it was com mitted, he was hanged.
From the Kaisar Bagh we drove to the Farad Bakhsh Palace, which was for many years the Royal residence. S'adat Ali Khan, the half brother to Asuf-ud-daulah, pur chased the part which overhangs the river from the French adventurer, Claude Martin, and added the rest. A spacious throne-room was set apart for Royal Durbars. At the accession of a new King the Resident used to place him on the throne, and then present to him a nazar to show that the British acknowledged his Government. A fair pilgrim who visited Lucknow half a century ago has described the cere mony : " The King went into the next apartment, where the Resident, with all due form, having taken off the King's turban, placed the crown upon his head, and he ascended the musnud." " I was standing next to the Resident and the Prime Minister, when, during a part of the ceremony, a shower of precious stones was thrown over us. I looked at the Resident and saw him move his arm to allow the valuables that had fallen upon him to drop to the ground ; I imitated his example by moving my scarf, on which some were caught ; it would have been infra dig. to have retained them ; they fell to the ground and were scrambled for by the natives ; the shower consisted of emeralds, rubies, pearls, etc., etc." After the ceremony was over, the lady visited the zenana of the King, and writes thus to a lady friend : " But the present King's wives were superbly dressed and looked like creatures of the Arabian Tales. Indeed, one (Taj Mahal) was so beautiful, that I could think of nothing but Lalla Rookh in her bridal attire. I never saw any one so lovely, either black or white. Her features were perfect, and such eyes and eyelashes I never beheld before. She is the favourite Queen at present, and has only been married a month or two ; her age, about fourteen ; and such a little creature, with the smallest hands and feet, and the most timid, modest look imaginable. You would have been charmed with her, she was so graceful and fawn-like. Her dress was of gold and scarlet brocade, and her hair was literally strewed with pearls, which hung down upon her neck in long single strings, terminating in large pearls. which mixed with and hung as low as her hair, which was curled on each side her head in long ringlets, like Charles the Second's beauties. On her forehead she wore a small gold circlet, from which depended and hung, half way down, large pearls inter spersed with emeralds. Above this was a paradise plume, from which strings of pearls were carried over the head, as we turn our hair. Her earrings were immense gold rings, with pearls and emeralds suspended all round in large strings, the pearls increasing in size. She had a nose-ring also with large round pearls and emeralds ; and her necklaces, etc., were too numerous to be described. She wore long sleeves, open at the elbow ; and her dress was a full petticoat with a tight body attached, and open only at the throat. She had several persons to bear her train when she walked ; and her women stood behind her couch to arrange her head-dress, when, in moving, her pearls got entangled in the immense robe of scarlet and gold she had thrown around her. This beautiful creature is the envy of all the other wives, and the favourite at present of both the king and his mother, both of whom have given her titles." From the Farad Bakhsh we drive to the Shah Najif, which was built in 1814 by Ghazi-ud-din Haidar, and it is now his mausoleum. It is a white mosque, with an im mense dome, of no architectural worth. Inside are some quaint interesting pictures of the Nawabs of Oude and the lights of their harem. The Shah Najif is chiefly interesting to the traveller on account of its being the scene of a most stubborn and critical struggle in Sir Cohn Campbell's first relief of Lucknow. After fighting every inch of ground from the first streak of dawn, our troops reached it as the after noon was waning. It barred the way to the Residency. Sir Colin Campbell determined to carry it before nightfall, and Peel, who has won a high place in the bead-roll of England's heroes, brought up his Naval brigade and placed his 24-pounders, mortars and battery before the mosque. " For three hours the bombardment lasted, and no im pression was made on the stout walls. For three hours the Shah Najif sent forth a perennial stream of fire but to be checked by our heavy guns. To remain was sheer death. To retreat by the narrow defile blocked by troops was out of the question. The moment was decisive. Colin Campbell collecting the 93rd around him said unto them, ' I had no intention of employing you again to-day, but the Shah Najif must be taken. The artillery cannot drive the enemy out, so you must with the bayonet.' Thus spoke the old chief, and he stirred the spirit and soul of every man by telling them that he would lead them himself. Peel, manning again all his guns, redoubled his fire. Under cover of this heavy cannonade the 93rd advanced, and " the grey haired veteran of many fights rode, with his sword drawn, at their head. Keen was his eye as when in the pride of youth he led the stormers at Sebastian. They went on steadily till before them towered a wall twenty feet high, from whose parapet and countless loopholes came in blasts a storm of musket balls. Many fell. The assailants re plied to their slayers with musketry yet with little effect, and no ladders were available for escalading the ramparts. Nothing to be done but to break them. Peel poured his broadsides into the stout massive walls. But no impression was made on the solid masonry. Never did English soldiers and sailors distinguish themselves more than on this after noon. They worked the guns, though every moment many were killed and more were wounded. But while their own losses were terrible, they could inflict but little in return. They were being destroyed by bullets and that was all. Day was fast turning into night. The rocket tubes were brought up, and while they discharged their fiery missiles into the building, Peel, with the reluctance of a brave man, slowly withdrew his guns. At this moment fifty High landers, creeping stealthily through the brushwood, guided by Sergeant Paton of the regiment, reached a rent in the wall which Paton had discovered. A soldier was pushed up with some difficulty. He reported that no enemy could be seen. Several men immediately followed. A company of sappers were sent for, who quickly arriving enlarged the opening and more Highlanders entered. The small party pushing on gained the main gateway and threw it open for their comrades. The white dresses of the last of the garrison were just seen gliding away amidst the rolling smoke in the dark shadows of the Midway between the Shah Najif and the Kaisar Bagh is the mess house, a strongly built plain house which at the time of Sir Colin's advance was defended by a ditch twelve feet broad and scarped with masonry ; beyond that there was a loopholed wall. Sir Colin, in order to save his in fantry, had determined to use his guns as much as possible, and it was after the building had been battered for about three hours, and the musketry fire of the enemy had begun to slacken, that the Chief, thinking it might be stormed " with out much risk," gave the order to advance. The storming party consisted of a company of the Both Foot, under Captain Wolseley and a picquet of her Majesty's 53rd under Captain Hopkins, supported by Major Barnston's battalion of detachments, under Captain Guise, Her Majesty's 83rd Foot, and some of the Punjab Infantry under Lieutenant Powell. The mess house was carried immediately with a rush, and by order of the chief, Lieutenant Roberts, assisted by Sir David Baird and Captain Hopkins, planted, under a shower of bullets, a regimental colour on one of its turrets to show Outram and Havelock how far they had advanced. Twice was it shot down. " Notwithstanding, I managed," writes Lord Roberts, " to prop it up a third time on the turret, and it was not again hit, though the enemy continued to fire at it for some time." The troops then pressed forward with great vigour and lined the wall separating the mess house from the Moti Mahal. Here the enemy made their last stand. Captain Wolseley sent for some sappers, who coming up made openings in the wall through which the troops poured and attacked the network of buildings within. The rebels fought stubbornly, but they were driven at the point of the bayonet from room to room, and after the lapse of some time thrust forth from the vast enclosure. " The relieving forces and garrison were now separated by only twenty-five yards, but an iron tempest swept across the open road." Colonel Napier and Lieutenant Sitwell were wounded in running the gauntlet of fire, but Outram and Havelock crossed over unhurt to the outside wall of the mess house enclosure. An opening was quickly made by the sappers through which they entered. On the sward sloping down from the mess house stood Colin Campbell, and a blaze of shot and musketry from the Kaisar Bagh rose upon them as the three veterans met. " This was a very cordial meeting," wrote Hope Grant, " and a cordial shaking of hands took place. On Outram privation had not told so heavily, but the hand of death was on Havelock, though he lighted up a little on being told for the first time that lie was Sir Henry." Loud rang the cheers as the news spread along from post to post that the three Generals had met. " The relief of the besieged garri son had been accomplished." In these few terse words their Commander-in-Chief announced the accomplishment of a brilliant achievement, guided by a master hand, and brought to a successful close by the pluck of the British soldier. " Every man in the force," wrote Sir Colin, " had exerted himself to the utmost, and now met with his re ward." After leaving the Shah Najif we drove to the Secunder Bagh (Alexander Garden), which was the scene of one of the most stubborn and sanguinary contests during the mutiny. It is a high-walled enclosure about one hundred yards square, with bastions at the angles and carefully loopholed. In the centre was a two-storied house which Wajid Ali built for one of his ladies, Sikandar Mahal. Sir Cohn Campbell did not use the language of exaggeration when he wrote, " There never was a bolder feat of arms than the storming of Secunder Bagh." The enemy finding escape impossible, fought with the courage of despair and the fury of religious hate. " A din of hideous noises rose into the air, the rattle of musketry : the curses, and yells of sepoys, the fierce cry of the British soldier : Remember Cawnpore, boys ! ' " Next morning the bodies of two thou sand sepoys, dressed in their old uniforms, lay in heaps. And now where curses and yells and the rattle of musketry and cries of death sounded : silence.