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Besieged in Lucknow

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Besieged in Lucknow
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Author(s): Martin Richard Gubbins
Date Published: 12/2006
Page Count: 392
Softcover ISBN-13: 978-84677-119-4
Hardcover ISBN-13: 978-1-84677-120-6

For those who have read anything of the Residency at Lucknow during the Indian Mutiny the name Gubbins is as familiar as that of Kavanagh or Lawrence. Gubbins’ Post is as memorable a bastion as Lone Pine was on the Gallipoli Peninsula. This is the story of Martin Gubbins himself, whose house became Gubbins’ Post and who, among other duties, manned and defended it throughout the siege. No-one was better qualified than Gubbins to record the Siege of the Lucknow Residency. Not only was he present from the rumours of mutiny to the relief, but he was central to the command structure, most of the time responsible for intelligence and communications.

November 17th.—During the night of the 16th, a new battery was constructed in front of the steam-engine buildings, in which an 8-inch howitzer and two heavy guns were placed. By nine o’clock, a.m., Havelock and myself were again at our look-out on the Chutturmunzil, scrutinizing the 32nd mess-house, and the Motee Munzil, to discover what might be the intentions of the enemy regarding their defence. We soon came to the conclusion that the former building was abandoned. The enemy could nowhere be seen about the premises; but, early in the forenoon, a single man approached the chief entrance, and, after cautiously looking in at the Venetians, entered, and presently retired again. About half-past nine, the fire of heavy guns in the direction of the Shah Nujeet showed us that the chief’s force was on the move. Gradually it drew nearer; and now the bombardment of the 82nd mess-house has begun on both sides, and the 8-inch shells, fired from opposite directions, meet and burst on the devoted house. It must be confessed that our shell practice is the best; for many of the shells from the chief’s side burst in the air. The ground around the building is light and sandy. See those shells exploding in it, and throwing up a volume of sand and dust, as from the crater of a mine. No part of the enclosure escapes: now a shell pierces the building, and then others plough up the ground beneath the trees and bushes, here, there, and every where; while rockets, the most fearful looking missile of destruction, leaving a long, white, meteor-like wake behind them, fling themselves upon the place. No thing can live under such a fire; if there lurks a single enemy in the place, we shall now see him fly.

But no one issues from the building; it must be, it is unoccupied.

Now, through an opening to our right of the 32nd mess, we distinguish a heavy gun placed in position, with five or six men around it. Then-dress arrests our attention. Who are they? Not long are we in doubt: they are the brave sailors of the Shannon; that straw hat forms no part of any military attire. .But see! They withdraw from the gun, and enter that low hut near it. It is to avoid the heavy musketry fire kept up by the enemy from the Tehree Kotee roof. Again they leave their cover, and, rapidly discharging their gun, add its fire to the storm which envelopes the ill-fated mess-house. The day is now waning, when one of our Artillery officers, hot from his battery, comes up to view from the height the effect of the bombardment. We assure him that the building is abandoned. “It is not, sir,” is his reply. Again we assure him that we have kept steady watch from an early hour, and that it is empty indeed. “No, sir! it is not,” he again declares. “But how do you know?” we inquire. “The art of war teaches me that the enemy must be in it,” he replies; and the gallant fellow, who knew not what fear was, again descends to his battery. It is now three, and if the enemy have any men concealed in that massive pile, we shall soon know; for, see! The red coats are approaching: they are moving down in regular order along the road leading from the Shah Nujeet, and now are lost to view. Presently a party of them are seen advancing in skirmishing order. They have reached the enclosing wall; they are over it, through the shrubbery, and now the leading officer enters at the door which we have been watching; and while a larger body follow, rushing at a double up to the building, he re-appears upon the roof, and presently a British ensign floats on the right hand tower of the Khoorsheyd Munzil. It is Captain Wolseley, of the 90th, who has placed it there.

The building was indeed, as we supposed, abandoned, but the fire is so heavy from the Tehree Kotee and ad jacent buildings, that it is no easy work that our noble fellows have to do. See! the ensign is struck down; and now it is again raised, and fixed more firmly than before. But again a shot strikes it down, and pro bably the staff is damaged, for they have taken it down through the garden to that group of officers, probably Sir Colin himself and staff, whose caps are visible inside the enclosing compound wall. To the right, this wall is lined by the captors of the mess-house, and a heavy fire of musketry, with occasional shot and shell, is directed from the Kaiser Bagh. upon them. And now they cross the wall, enter the Teliree Kotee enclosure, charge up its main avenue, and are hid from us by the trees. But the Tehree Kotee has been fired, for volumes of smoke are seen issuing from its lofty windows. Again let us turn our eyes to the group of officers and men on the left of the mess enclosure. They are standing directly opposite to the entrance of the Motee Munzil, from which they are separated by a broad highway. But down this road, sweeping the line that leads to the Motee Munzil, fly thickly the bullets from, the Kaiser Bagh, which is distant about 450 yards. There is a pause. Presently the passage is attempted, and European and Seikh, the one in
red, the other with swarthy visage, and a dress of corresponding colour, stooping, dart across the road.

There they go, by twos and threes, racing across the passage, and are lost from sight at the entrance of the building. Thank God! not one has been left on the road: the fire has, we hope, been harmless. But is the Motee Munzil unoccupied? That we cannot tell. It has been closely watched during the day, and no hostile figure has been detected there; but some shots fired from its neighbourhood have aroused suspicion that those extensive courts may not be wholly empty. Some shots are now fired inside. Ah! there is some work doing! Ten minutes elapse, when see! the enemy is flying from a postern close by the river bank. There are about seventy-five of them; and as they issue, they run for their lives down the right river-bank. Our men have not dis covered them. Ah! now they see them, and five or six rifles are discharged after the fugitives. One only falls; but he is motionless, and will rise no more. The rest take to the river, hastily stripping them selves of some of their clothes. They wade across; but as the water rises about them, the fire of our rifles increases, and showers of bullets strike the water all along the single file of men. They have reached mid stream, and now
their heads alone are visible. Sometimes some struggling and confusion may be seen, doubtless where a bullet did its errand; but at last, almost all succeed in reaching the opposite bank, and are lost in the orangery of the Hazuree Bagh.

The work is now accomplished: the Motee Munzil, the last post of the enemy which separated the two armies, is now our own: Martin’s house, which inter venes, has clearly been abandoned. And now a young officer advances from the steam-engine post to communicate with our friends in the Motee Munzil. It is Lieutenant Moorsom, Her Majesty’s 52nd Foot, who is so valuable in the Quartermaster-General’s Department, to which he belongs. He advances cautiously, and caution is necessary, for that road and open space which he between Martin’s house and the steam-engine is exposed to the musketry of the Kaiser Bagh. The enemy is also cannonading from the Badshah Bagh, across the river, in the same direction. But of their round shot he must take his chance. He stoops, and crosses the dangerous interval in safety, and runs up to Martin’s
house. Presently two officers approach our outpost by the same way, bearers, no doubt, of communications from Sir Colin. And now our general, Sir James Outram, and staff, followed by General Havelock with his, are going over; and my companion, Lieutenant Have lock, weak as he is from the severe wound in his left arm, has gone to join his father. The fire from the Kaiser Bagh is heavy, and must be twice crossed before Sir Colin can be reached. Both generals narrowly escaped from a shell which exploded close to them, and each had one of his staff wounded; Lieu tenant Havelock having unfortunately been dropped upon the road, with a second bullet in his wounded arm.