The Press.
London, England, 1858-01-23 00:00:00

LLICKNOW.

The following extracts from a private diary will
serve to fill up the gap from the arrival of Outram
to the final relief by Sir Colin Campbell. They will
be found of touching interest, and to tell a terrible
tale of the enemy we have to deal with in Oude

City of Lucknow, Oct. 3.
It is much I have to be thankful for. It is almost im-
possible to describe. God has indeed been merciful to
me, and your prayers and mine must have indeed been
listened to. From the ninth hour of the morning of
September 2.5 until ten o'clock at night, the whole force
was under a blaze of fire, every inch of the road disputed,
and, as our casualties will show, a sad loss we have sus-
tained. Instead of affording any great relief to this un-
fortunate garrison of Lucknow, as I am writing one week
after our entrance, we ate almost as badly off as the gar-
rison. Cut off from our baggage communication with
Cawnpore, and with few supplies left; daily fighting,
daily lose.
My poor good friend General Neill fell almost the last
shot that was fired on the 25th alt. I wen close to him.
A wretched man shot him from the top of a house. He
never spoke again, and could not have suffered a moment's
pain. There was a gun between us at the time, but I got
rotted and saved his body by carrying it into the intrenched
camp on a gan-aarriage, and it was buried by his own
regiment the next day.
And now I have to tell you of the loss of my poor boy.
What has become of him I know not; but he must have
been killed on that dreadful night. I did not want him
to come, but he said yes, he would come with me, and
was afraid to stay behind when the baggage was left. All
the other coolies, and horsekeepers, Sze., got in safely ;
but the rebels followed up our rear so closely that they
cut off our sick and wounded, and at one time our heavy
guns. The latter were recovered the next morning, but
they burnt our wounded as they were in their dhoolies,
and the bearers they either killed or pressed into their
service to give information. Picture the horrors of that
night fir the poor wounded—Arnold, Bailey, and many
others, all left till the next morning until a regiment
could go back and find them. Arnold was shot a second
time in the same leg whilst in his (Wooly. It is useless

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to tell you of my hairbreadth escapes on that day, for
every one had the same.
I went to see Mrs. the morning after I got in,
and was truly thankful to find her alive and well, with a
dear little child. Her friends at Madras had heard she
was dead. She was so glad to see me, and good old Neill
had brought a box of all kinds of things for the ladies,
such as arrowroot, sago, candles. &c., and some wine, all
of which 1 had the great pleasure of distributing. And,
fancy, the dear old regiment had subscribed at Cawnpore
for the same good purpose; but their box has not yet
come up with the heavy baggage, and I much fear the
whole of the baggage has fallen into the rebels' hands, for
we were obliged to leave it about four miles from LUCK*
now, and we have not heard of it since. The poor
ladies expected to have left for Cawnpore immediately after
our arrival, and that was the intention ; bat now it is as
much as we can do to guard them here.
I have also seen the —, or rather —, for the poor
woman has lately been confined, and her little baby died
two days ago. All the ladies are living in little holes.
Mrs. has about sir feet square for herself, nurse,
and child ; and they were all in daily fear of being blown
up by these wretched rebels, who have mined underneath
the garrison in all directions.
There seems to be no help for it now but patience, and
to wait for the English reinforcements. Our force is so
small nothing more can really be done. Sir James Out-
ram is here—a braver man never rode ahorse. He headed
nearly every charge on the 25th, and was slightly wounded.
What am I to write or say to poor Mrs. Neill? and hs
asked me, before we went into action, in case he fell, to
do so. A painful duty, and Ido it with a sad heart ; but it
must be done.
Oct. t.—three more of our officers wounded ; poor
Groom very severely, thigh-bone broken by round shot, and
I fear he will lose his leg ; poor Fraser badly hit in the
shoulder; and Galway slightly in the neck. Major
Stephenson had a very narrow escape. A bullet passed
through a door first and hit him on the stomach afterwards.
But he will be well again soon. Several of the men also
were wounded. I went to see poor Arnold and Bailey last
night. The first cannot live more than a few hours. The
scenes of this hospital are past belief. Two hundred and
upwards lying side by side, sick and wounded, and our poor
good ladies are walking about, bathing the heads and
soothing the dying. May God bless them for it.
Oct. tl iA severe attack upon oar position this morn-
ing, and great loss of life. The enemy have undermined
us in all directions, blowing up several of our men. We
cannot get out of this horrid city. It cost us 609 casualties
on the 25th to get in, and to attempt to get out with the
women and children would cost us half our force.
Oct. 16.—Well, another week has passed, and we are
still shut up in this wretched palace, and from all accounts
that reach us, no prospect of getting out for the next three
weeks at the least. Fortunately, our provisions, such as
they are, last oat well, but these gun bullocks are rather
tough. —'s brother is here, doing duty with the 78th
Highlanders, but is badly wounded, and has lost two of his
fingers. I went to see him in the hospital yesterday, but
he was asleep. Bailey and Fraser are doing pretty well.
Galway all right again ; Groom very bad, and I much fear
will not recover. Stgphenson's hurt has also turned out
badly, and he looks very ill. No medicines, no wine, no
comforts of any kind; no clean rags even to dress wounds,
so but few can recover. The enemy still being determined,
mining and throwing shells all about us.
Oct. 22.—Groom died yesterday. What a blow for his
wife ! His child he had never seen. No sooner was his
body removed from the hospital than Barclay was put in
his place, badly wounded. We have now lost six officers
killed and seven wounded--thirteen ; but other regiments
are equally unfortunate, especially the 76th Highlanders.
Our poor horses are now without grain, and little grass ;
sonic are starving. I was so grieved when my little note
to you through Mrs. was not sent on Sunday last.
The coolie could not go, so the third mail will leave, and
no news from me.
Oct. 27.—At last we have heard of a chance of a relief.
A column from Delhi is now on its way to join another
force at Cawnpore; and we may now expect them here in
a few days, so we are all in high spirits. We are all look-
ing a little thin upon our living. I had the good luck to
get about half a glassfull of rum, a few days ago, which did
me a world of good, for from the change of weather—not
to cold—we have all been a little seedy from diarrhoea ;
and the poor sick in hospital, those that have lost limbs,
die rapidly.
Nov. 2.—Another sad morning. My friend, Ned Grant,
is very seriously wounded. I have just returned from his
side. He was shot in the stomach, and the ball must have
touched the liver. it was cut oat of the right side. I
was with him soon after he was bit, but I am very uneasy
about him ; and he thinks badly of himself. Stephenson
is, I think, much worse to-day ; and, judging from his
appearance, I don't think he can recover.
Nov. 11.—I have not added anything to this since the
2nd. Our relief is assembling about three miles distant,
and between this and the 20th I suppose it will take place.
As you may imagine, I am very tired of this life, and very
hungry too, for we have now been on half rations for a
month, and not a drop of beer, or wine, or spirits. The
consequence is our sick and wounded are doing very badly,
and the whole garrison looking thin and wretched. Ned
Grant is doing pretty well, though not out of danger ;
Fraser, Bailey, and Barclay, doing well ; Stephenson sink-
ing from weakness, I think; his wound, they say, still
looks healthy.
Nov. 14.—Sir Colin Campbell and our relief is advance
ing. They commence their operations to-day. We are to
assist them to-morrow. We are very badly provided with
men, and they very weak from living so long on half
rations, and without grog. But I trust all will be well,
and that the relief of Lucknow will be effected this time.
Nov. 26.—Three miles out
Woe are relievf the wallsed and
last, p city
ad
of
Lucknow. God be praised ; at

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D. the open again. I must leave the account of our
getting out till my next, as I post this at once to save your
heart aching any more. Poor Stephenson is gone ;he
died the morning after he was taken out of the city.
Grant is a trifle better. I have not seen him for a week.
Poor Mrs. Banks! I took her ont myself, she hanging on
my arm, and her dear little baby in my arms. I was
obliged to take her under the fire of large guns nearly all
the way; but had to make her believe most of them were
our own guns. I never felt so thankful as when she was
in sidety. I then returned to Lucknow, and came out
with the garrison. I have got a small tent for her and a
capital carriage. I was so jolly at being able to do so
much for her. I know not our movements yet ; however,
rumour says we are to remain here and hold our own.
My little note sent out in a quill was captured by the
enemy.
The following extracts are from letters of Mrs.
Banks, mentioned above :

Lucknow, Oct. 4.
My dearest —,—l hope you may have heard of the
blow which has fallen upon as before my letter reaches you,
for I cannot soften the miserable tidings. Your brother is
gone, I trust and believe, to a happier world, and in all
human probability his child and I shall soon follow him. I
cannot attempt to tell you of our three months' siege and
all its horrors. My husband was, as always, the foremost
where anything difficult and dangerouswas to be done, and
when, on Sir H. Lawrence's death, he WAS appointed chief
commissioner, neither I nor others could persuade him to
remember his own peril enough. He died nobly, leading
on the Europeans to repel a furious attack on an out-
post. Those who were near told me that the bullet struck
his temple, and that he fell b►ck without a groan. . . .
After threee months of siege, relief came to us, but the
force sent was not strong enough to take away the number
of wounded and of women and children that are here, and
to-night they march back to Cawupore, leaving us with a
slight augmentation of our garrison, but with a fearfully
diminished stock of food, and with an enemy who will be
much emboldened by their retreat. General Outram hopes
to return in six weeks with 10,000 men, but we have had
too much experience of how slowly relief can be afforded in
this country to look very hopefully on the:prospect
The defences of the place are very weak now, and the
enemy ontaide are said to muster in greater numbers than
ever. We have heard too much of the tragedies at Cawn-
pore and elsewhere not to dread the fate that awaits us if
they succeed in carrying the place, and our other danger is
want of food, which, should the army be unable to return,
we shall be in the utmost distress for. Thank God, I can
feel assured all is well and wisely ordered, though very
bitter has been the trial.—Your affectionate sister,
E. H. B.

P.S. Oct. s.—The tromps did not go last night, for oar
men got possession of a good many houses during the
day; and, I believe, the general is going to wait a hale
longer, and see if there is any hope of our sufficiently com-
manding the road to get in supplies, so our prospects are
• shade brighter. It may please God yet to save us, and
truly it will be a marvellous deliverance. That it is all
right and ordered for the best I know, and that it will be
so to the end.

Dil Kooat Park, outside Lucknow, Nov. 22.

My dearest —,--We are at length released from oar
long siege. On the 19th all women and children left the
Residency, and the same night reached this place, about
four miles, and scarcely two from my old house. I can-
not attempt to describe all the horrors of that first march,
under a burning sun, on foot, and in many places exposed
to a heavy fire. My child and I have been brought safely
through it. We are encamped here until the military
plans have been settled. Many think that Lucknow must
be abandoned fur the present, and that the whole force will
soon join us here and march back to Cawnpore ; a few days
mast show. I must hope that the papers will give you all
public intelligence and help you to understand my letters,
for 1 have neither time nor heart to enter upon a detail of
the last five dreadful months. When we meet, if please God
we timer do, I shall be able to tell it all ; I cannot write it....
The poor children have been deprived of milk and every
proper food for them. The air we have been breathing
was tainted by the dead natives and animals nninterred
close to our walls, and for certainly two months of the
siege the daily return of young children buried in the
graveyards at Lucknow must have averaged seven a night.
It is a melancholy sight that graveyard ; in one corner
close together lie poor Sir Henry, my darling Sherbrooke,
and our chaplain (Polehampton), who died of cholera. If
any garrison remain, one of his friends has promised to
get a stone put up for me to mark the spot ; but if the
place be abandoned, its only mark will be in my recollec-
tion; and I even could go to it only once, and that by
night, the musketry fire was so incessant there.
Some time ago, when General Havelock's force came in.
I wrote you a letter, which I inclose in this ; it never had
the opportunity of going, but it will give you some idea of
what our state was at that time, and of the little anticipa-
tion I then had of ever leaving Lucknow. The resolution
which had then been taken of sending the force back to
Cawnpore was given up. Two or three days after some
wheat and some bullocks were brought in by a sallying
partool ' and, though not much, it enabled us to hold out a
deal longer on half rations than we otherwise could
have
done. When Sir C. Campbell came with real relief
we were taken out with twenty-four hours' notice
Surely such fearful events as have passed here in the last
few months have scarcely occurred before in the history of
the world. The accounts given of the Cswnpore tragedy
by officers now with this army are dreadful—beyond any-
thing one can imagine ; and the sight I have witnessed in
Lucknow can never be forgotten —Your affectionate
sister, E. H. B.