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CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 3 1924 096 262 906 
 
In compliance with current 
 
 copyright law, Cornell University 
 
 Library produced this 
 
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 that meets the ANSI Standard 
 
 Z39.48-1992 to replace the 
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 b — ^^^ 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME 
 OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT 
 FUND GIVEN IN 1 89 1 BY 
 
 HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE 
 
.~0 ■': 
 
THE STORY OF A 
 SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 BY 
 
 FIELD-MARSHAL VISCOUNT WOLSELEY 
 
 O.M., K.P., G.C.B., G.C.M.G., D.C.L.^ LL.D 
 
 mTH PHOTOGRAVURE PORTRAIT AND PLANS 
 
 VOLUME I 
 
 WESTMINSTER 
 ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO Ltd 
 
 2 WHITEHALL GARDENS 
 
 1903 
 
V) 
 
 
 
 ^'^ 
 
 
 Butler & Tanner, 
 
 The Selwood Printing Works, 
 
 Frome, and London. 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In the following pages I have tried to record the 
 noble actions I have witnessed, and to describe the men 
 I have been associated with. I have set down nought 
 in malice, and therefore beg my readers to forgive what 
 may be my prejudices. 
 
 WOLSELEY, F.M. 
 
 Farm House 
 
 Glynde 
 September i^, 1903 
 
TO 
 
 THE RT. HONOURABLE 
 
 LORD MOUNT-STEPHEN. 
 
 I DEDICATE THESE VOLUMES OF VARIED EXPERIENCES 
 
 TO YOU WHO FOR FORTY YEARS HAVE 
 
 GIVEN ME YOUR UNVARYING 
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 VU 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I Early Years — Join at Chatham — Voyage to 
 
 India, 1833-52 i 
 
 II Land in India — On Active Service in Burmah 
 
 IN 1852-3 25 
 
 , III Expedition to Donnabew — Lead a Storming 
 
 Party — Badly Wounded — Sent Home, 1853 48 
 
 IV Go to the Crimea — Join the Light Division, 
 
 1854 79 
 
 V The Crimea — My First Night on Outlying 
 
 Picket there, 1854 ..... 97 
 
 VI My First Day's Duty in the Trenches, 1854 . 107 
 
 VII Service in the Trenches as Assistant 
 
 Engineer . . . . . . .115 
 
 ix 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 VIII On Duty in the Trenches as an Engineer 
 
 Officer, 1855 126 
 
 IX Assault of the Quarries and the Mamelon, 
 
 185s 149 
 
 X Repulse of the Allies on June 18, 1855 . . 164 
 
 XI The Battle of the Tchernaya . . .172 
 
 XII My Last Night in the Trenches . . .176 
 
 XIII The Fall OF Sebastopol, 1855 • .188 
 
 XIV Appointed to the Staff — War Ends, 1855-6 201 
 
 XV The Army Embarks for Home — I Rejoin the 
 
 90TH Light Infantry at Aldershot, 1856 . 216 
 
 XVI Ordered to China for War there, 1857 . 227 
 
 XVII Shipwrecked in Straits of Banca — News that 
 Bengal Army had Mutinied — Arrive in 
 Calcutta, 1857 ...... 240 
 
 XVIII Forced March from Chinsura to Cawnpore, 
 
 1857 255 
 
 XIX Cawnpore in 1857 — The Nana's Country Place 
 — Advance into Oudh — Besieged in the Alum 
 Bagh Palace ...... 274 
 
 XX Sir Colin Campbell's Relief of Lucknow, 1858 289 
 
 X 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 XXI With Sir James Outram at the Alum Bagh . 325 
 
 XXII The Siege and Capture of Lucknow, 1858 . 334 
 
 XXIII On the Staff of the Oudh Division, 1858 . 342 
 
 XXIV The Re-Conquest of Oudh, 1858-9 . . 348 
 
 XXV The Baiswarra Campaign, 1858 . . . 362 
 
 XXVI The Baiswarra Campaign in the Winter of 
 
 1858-9 381 
 
 PLANS 
 
 Plan of Meeah-toon's Position assaulted 19TH March, 
 
 1853 49 
 
 Map to Illustrate Sir Hope Grant's Campaign in Oudh, 
 
 1858-59 face page 274 
 
 ILLUSTRATION 
 Field-Marshal Viscount Wolseley, G.C.M.G. . Frontispiece 
 
 XI 
 
CHAPTER I 
 
 Early Years — -Join at Chatham — Voyage to India 
 
 1833-52 
 
 I WAS reared in the belief that my family was one of the 
 very few that could trace its direct descent in the 
 male line from ancestors who had lived before " the Con- 
 quest " on lands still held by us, their descendants. 
 According to an unwritten legend, accepted of course by us 
 as gospel, we were given those lands — which subsequently 
 became the Manor of Ousley, then Wlslia, and now 
 Wolseley— by King Edgar for exterminating the wolves on 
 Cannock Chase. The truth of this legend is strengthened 
 by the fact that from time immemorial we have borne on 
 our arms the Talbot Dog — the wolfhound of the Saxons — 
 and that the wolf's head has always been our crest, and 
 Homo hontini lupus our motto. 
 
 A man's ancestors, like his children, tjiough interesting 
 personalities to himself, have no charm for others. My 
 reader wUl, therefore, be glad to know that I have no 
 intention of writing a family history. I have only men- 
 tioned this much on the subject because the fact of knowing 
 that I had inherited a very old name had a marked influence 
 upon my boyhood and early life. It was a spur to the 
 boundless ambition that filled my brain in youth, and it 
 has been an active factor in the events of my subsequent 
 career. 
 
 VOL. I. I B 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 Leaving my forefathers to their long sleep in Colwich 
 churchyard, I come to my immediate progenitors. My 
 great-grandfather. Colonel Sir Richard Wolseley, Bart., 
 the younger brother of Sir Charles Wolseley, Bart., of 
 Wolseley, Stafford, went to Ireland about the beginning 
 of George II's reign. I believe he was induced to do so by 
 the hope of being able to make good a claim to the con- 
 fiscated Irish lands which had been allotted and partly 
 made over to his uncle, Brigadier-General the Right Hon. 
 WiUiam Wolseley, by King William III, for services 
 rendered during that monarch's wars in Ireland. He 
 had gone with General Percy Kirke to Ireland in 1689, 
 had raised some troops in InniskiUen, his own regiment — 
 levied there — being called " Wolseley!aJEIorse."' He saw 
 much service at that timei]aJrelaffd,'^avmg commanded 
 at the hard-fought battle of Newtown-Butler, and subse- 
 quently defeated the Duke of Berwick at Cavan. He took 
 part in the Duke of Schomberg's disastrous campaign of 
 X689, and fought at the Boyne. He was all through the 
 operations by which King William effected the subjugation 
 of Ireland, dying in Dublin in 1697 as Master-General of the 
 Ordnance and one of the Lords Justices then ruling that 
 turbulent island. I do not mean to describe here the 
 events of his life, but he was a remarkable man, and had 
 served King William well. He crossed the Bo5me at that 
 monarch's side, and according to family tradition, when 
 William's horse was bogged in the river, as history relates, 
 he dismounted and gave the king his horse, which was a 
 black one. The pictures, which usually represent the king 
 riding a white charger when crossing that river, must be 
 inaccurate if our family legend be true. However, our 
 
 ^ This regiment is now the 6th or Inniskilling Dragoons. 
 
 2 
 
EARLY YEARS 
 
 Brigadier always considered himself very badly used by the 
 King, for whilst all his Dutch generals and other personal 
 friends were given large grants, mostly of Irish lands robbed 
 from the Catholic Irish gentry, the land grant promised, 
 and at one time allotted, to the Enghsh Brigadier of Horse 
 was never legally made oveir to him. I believe, however, 
 that some of the lands in Carlow and Wexford, which my 
 great-grandfather subsequently obtained in Ireland, were 
 part of those originally intended for, or given to, this fighting 
 uncle of his. 
 
 Shortly after my great-grandfather's arrival in Ireland, 
 he was made an Irish baronet, and he married a daughter of 
 Sir Thomas Molyneux, Bart. He settled in the county of 
 Carlow, at the village of TuUow, where he built a hoUse, 
 and, following the fashion of the Irish families around him, 
 called it " Mount Wolseley." There my grandfather and 
 his two brothers were boi-n, the first of the family entitled 
 to wear the shamrock on St. Patrick's Day. My grand- 
 father and both his brothers were in the Royal Dragoons, 
 in which regiment he served throughout the Seven Years' 
 War in Germany. As a child I took the deepest interest 
 in the stories I was told of his gallant deeds, and remember 
 how much impressed I was by the fact that upon one 
 occasion he had not changed his clothes for a fortnight, at 
 the end of which his big jack-boots had to be cut from his 
 swollen feet. 
 
 Upon the close of the war he returned home with his 
 regiment, and when marching through Wiltshire he met a 
 pretty Miss Hulbert, fell in love, and married her. She was 
 the orphan daughter of a Huguenot father, who had settled 
 in the west of England as a cloth manufacturer. Her 
 fortune was small, but her fecundity was prodigious. Alas ! 
 
 3 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 she presented my impetuous grandfather with fifteen 
 children. 
 
 A very good man, but not wise in worldly affairs, he 
 soon awoke to the imprudence of his marriage. He, a 
 younger son, could no longer afford to amuse himself as 
 a captain of Dragoons, but must find some other settled 
 and less expensive occupation. An uncle by marriage. 
 Dr. Garnet, Bishop of Clogher, had settled in Ireland to 
 become a prelate in the Irish Church. He now offered my 
 grandfather an Irish living if he would enter the Church, 
 and the offer was accepted. This change of title from 
 captain to reverend was not difficult, as when young he had 
 taken a degree in Trinity College, Dublin. He died in 
 1800 as Rector of TuUycorbet in the north of Ireland. 
 
 In honour of the bishop my father was called Garnet, 
 and in due time I was also given that name " at my baptism." 
 
 During the rebellion of 1798, our house at Tullow was 
 attacked and burned by the Irish. In some amusing 
 letters to her people in England, my grandmother describes 
 the sudden approach of the rebels and the panic which 
 ensued, for they seemed bent upon ridding Ireland of at 
 least one family of the hated Saxon settlers. Every one 
 ran, some on horseback, others in any wheeled conveyance 
 they could secure, all making for Carlow, about nine miles 
 off, where there was a small English garrison. A very 
 plain aunt, to whom as a boy I was much attached, was 
 forgotten in the hurry and confusion. Finding herself left 
 behind she set out on foot, but being soon overtaken by a 
 Yeomanry trooper, he kindly took her up behind him. 
 She did very well thus until about half-way to Carlow, when, 
 unfortunately for her, they overtook a very pretty girl 
 out of breath and much frightened. The trooper said 
 
 4 
 
EARLY YEARS 
 
 she was his cousin, and insisted upon my ugly aunt giving 
 up her place behind him to his handsome kinswoman. My 
 poor aunt had to finish her flight on foot. 
 
 The rebels were not content with burning our house, but, 
 being short of ammunition, they stripped the Church spire 
 of its lead, and also smelted into bullets the leaden coffin 
 in which my great-grandfather had been recently buried. 
 
 My father and his younger brother entered the Army. 
 Both served for many years in the King's Own Borderers, 
 then quartered in the West Indies. When other regiments 
 were engaged in winning fame under Wellington in Spain 
 theirs was left to fight the French in Martinique, Guade- 
 loupe, and other French West India Islands. I remember 
 many a story about these encounters with the French, but 
 will not inflict them upon my reader. The life led by our 
 troops in the West Indies then was odious in every sense, 
 and my father hated it. The officers, as well as the men, 
 drank hard and often quarrelled over their wine. Duels 
 were common occurrences, but, strange to say, they seldom 
 ended fatally. When either my father or uncle was so 
 " engaged in the morning," and it was often, one was 
 always the other's second. 
 
 My father was by no means clever, and having entered 
 the Army when extremely young, he was badly educated 
 a misfortune he never ceased to deplore. I often heard my 
 mother say that my father spent his fourteenth birthday 
 as an ensign in Gibraltar. He was very poor and very 
 proud. Nothing could have induced him to do a mean 
 action of any sort. Hot-tempered, and perhaps prone to 
 quarrel, he was chivalry itself in thought, word and action. 
 Full of charity, he felt much for the Irish poor, with whose 
 misery, in those days of high rents and high prices, he had 
 
 5 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 the most real sympathy. Very punctilious in manner and 
 bearing, and particular about his clothes and general appear- 
 ance, he looked a soldier all over. He was a very religious 
 man in later years, and a strong Protestant, as aU the family 
 had been since the Reformation, until his cousin, the English 
 Baronet, Sir Charles Wolseley — the curious, clever, half- 
 cracked Chartist, who had taken part in the assault of the 
 Bastile — ^j,oined the Church of Rome. 
 
 My father married late in life, my mother being twenty- 
 five years his junior. She was the daughter of William 
 Smith, Esq., of Golden Bridge House, County Dublin, and 
 another daughter married my father's cousin, Sir Richard 
 Wolselej'-, Bart. My maternal grandfather was a typical 
 spendthrift Irish landlord, who lived recklessly beyond his 
 means. His great-grandfather, a Mr. de Herries, had fled 
 from England during the plague in Charles H's reign, and, 
 having bought the Golden Bridge property, built himself 
 a house upon it. Why he assumed the homely name of 
 Smith, I know not. Most of us have acquaintances who 
 have sunk the patronymic " Smith " into what sounded 
 more imposing. But here was a well-born old gentleman 
 who deliberately did the reverse. 
 
 My father sold out as a major, shortly after his marriage, 
 and rented Golden Bridge House from his father-in-law, 
 who had settled in England. There I was born, June 4, 
 1833, just loi years after my paternal grandfather had come 
 into the world at Mount Wolseley, in the County of Carlow. 
 I was thus the third generation that had been born in Ireland. 
 It is always pleasant to me to remember that the year of my 
 birth was that in which we abolished " that execrable sum 
 of all villanies, commonly called the ' Slave Trade.' " 
 
 Golden Bridge House was a red brick mansion of the 
 
 6 
 
•; ^ EARLY YEARS 
 
 King William or early Queen Anne period. Like most of the 
 old country houses near Dublin, it is now a convent, and 
 a dirty slixm has grown up in and around what was once its 
 undulating and weU-watered little park. 
 
 I should like to record here my earliest recollections of my 
 mother, but it is not easy to describe one so loved, and 
 round whose memory there clings, as a halo, the holiest and 
 loftiest of my childish thoughts and aspirations. As a boy 
 I always thought hers the fairest and sweetest face in the 
 world, and she stiU looms before my memory a beautiful, 
 gracious, tail and stately woman, full of love and tenderness 
 for all about her. Her smile was most fascinating, and the 
 poor and sorrowful of heart never came to her in vain for 
 help and sympathy. Her white, well-shaped teeth, very 
 regular features, dark, nearly black, hair, and an almost 
 southern complexion, made her more Spanish than English 
 in appearance. She was very clever, capable, tactful, of 
 sound judgment, and as a girl had read much. In my 
 daily walks with her, when a boy, I drank in from her 
 teaching much that I have never forgotten. Her religion — 
 devoid of everything approaching to priest-craft — was the 
 simplest Bible form of worship. She was indeed one of the 
 pure in heart, of whom, we are told, " they shall see 
 God." 
 
 I wiU pass rapidly over the story of my boyhood, for I 
 know by the memoirs of others how uninteresting are the 
 tales of early youth. As a boy, I was very active, ran and 
 jumped weU, was fond of boxing, single-stick, rowing, 
 shooting, and all out-of-door amusements. I read much, 
 and crammed my head with Hume's History of England, 
 Alison's History of Europe, and Napier's Peninsula War. 
 Devoted to mathematics, I disliked the " Classics," especi- 
 
 7 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 ally Greek, and always loathed the ancient gods of Greece, 
 and all the absurd myths and stories about them. My exact 
 and mathematical mind revolted against the unreal non- 
 sense taught me as the history of these mean and con- 
 temptible deities, about most of whom there was nothing 
 good, wholesome, or manly. Horace and Juvenal, how- 
 ever, amused, and Virgil's description of the games excited 
 me. Later on I read Caesar for my Army examination ; 
 his commentaries and Xenophon's Anabasis were the only 
 classics I ever thoroughly enjoyed. I was taught drawing, 
 the use of the pocket sextant and prismatic compass, and 
 I devoured every work on the theory and practice of war 
 that I could beg, borrow, or afford to buy. 
 
 My first Commission was dated March 12, 1852, when I 
 was still under nineteen years of age, and I joined the 
 provisional battalion at Chatham early in June, as an 
 ensign in the 80th, now called by its old official title, the 
 South Staffordshire Regiment. This Chatham battalion 
 consisted of the depots of all the Queen's regiments serving 
 in India, and when I joined it, the barracks were over- 
 crowded with boy recruits, chiefly obtained from Ireland, 
 and of ensigns of all ages waiting for conveyance to India. 
 All drafts for Indian regiments then went round the Cape 
 of Good Hope in sailing ships, most of which belonged to 
 the firms of either Green or Wygram, the. two. great ship- 
 o^vne^s then trading with the East. Most of us young 
 ensigns, knowing we had but a very short time longer to 
 be in England, and might not return for many long years, 
 embarked in all the follies, reckless pleasures and so-called 
 amusements our limited means could provide. Want of 
 money saved many of us, for nine out of ten of us were very 
 poor, and looked forward to an Indian career where high 
 
 8 
 
JOIN AT CHATHAM 
 
 pay enabled the infantry officer to live without assistance 
 from home. 
 
 Like all other ensigns, I was allotted one very small 
 room as my quarters. It had the usual barrack table and 
 two chairs ; the rest of the furniture, as is usual in aU 
 barracks, I had to find myself. These officer's quarters 
 were very old and abominably bad. An old great-uncle 
 of mine told me he had towards the end of the previous 
 century occupied a room in the house where I was lodged. 
 It was, he said, even then generally understood that these 
 quarters were so bad that they had been condemned as 
 unfit for use. But throughout most of my service 
 it would seem to have been generally assumed that any 
 house was good enough for our officers. It was then a 
 common belief that the barrack master and his old sergeants 
 made a good thing out of the charges levied upon young 
 officers as barrack damages. A cracked pane of glass was 
 a small silver mine to these men. Fifty ensigns may ha\'e 
 occupied the quarter with this cracked pane in it, and all 
 had to pay for a new one. After I had embarked, the 
 barrack sergeant presented me with his bill, one item 
 being for a latch key, which I had then about me. In my 
 innocence I proffered the key, and asked him to erase the 
 item. He positively refused ; I paid the several shillings 
 demanded, its outside value being, I should say, one, and 
 foolishly imagined I had scored one against the harpy by 
 throwing the key into the river. 
 
 This provisional battalion was then commanded by a 
 colonel with rough, bad manners, and very much disliked 
 by aU, old and young, who had the misfortune to serve under 
 him. But his task was a hard one I fully admit, and I can 
 now make allowance for his bad temper, though not for his 
 
 9 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 brutality of manner. I was only about ten days or a fort- 
 night at Chatham before embarkation for India, so I had 
 personally little to do with him, but I found him, whenever 
 I did have to approach him, wanting in all that kindness 
 and consideration which marks a gentleman in dealing with 
 boys of eighteen or nineteen. None of us were, I should say, 
 over that age, and a little advice given in a fatherly tone 
 would have had great influence with most of us. I confess 
 we were an uninteresting lot. The great bulk of the 
 young men who then usually went to India were socially 
 not of a high order. Of course, though very poor, many 
 were the sons of old officers of good families, whose poverty 
 compelled their sons to serve in India, if serve they would 
 in the Army. But the great bulk of those I met at Chatham, 
 and afterwards in India and Burmah, at that time, struck 
 me, I remember, as wanting in good breeding, and aU 
 seemed badly educated. For many and many a year this 
 depot had been similarly emptied each summer of its beard- 
 less ensigns to fiU up the annual vacancies in the Queen's 
 regiments serving in India. It was curious and interesting, 
 though sad, to follow their military careers. They were the 
 class of men who, for the previous half century, had led the 
 soldiers of the English Army in all the Indian battles from 
 the days of Arthur Wellesley to those of Colin Campbell. 
 I need scarcely add that it was upon the British regiments 
 the brunt of the fighting fell in all the Indian wars of that 
 period. 
 
 It is sad to think of the many who, from want of energy 
 and of grit, and above all things of that healthy ambition 
 which requires those qualities for its foundation, sank 
 beneath the enervating influences of cantonment life. Some 
 degenerated quickly into mere consumers of beer and 
 
 10 
 
LIFE AT CHATHAM 
 
 brandy, without even that British recklessness which in a 
 measure makes the sportsman. Others, in pursuit of game 
 and adventure, found vent for their superabundant activity 
 by wanderings into unknown jungles and amidst snowy 
 mountains. Amongst these latter many became our best 
 and most daring and most resourceful soldiers. Their 
 sporting tastes but added to their keen sense of regimental 
 duties. Of these a small proportion, taking their pro- 
 fession seriously, studied hard at all militaiy sciences, and 
 spent many of those deadly midday hours of the Indian 
 summers in reading military history and the lives of 
 great commanders. Happy, indeed, is the young officer 
 who so loves his work as to find in such literature a 
 high form of pleasure. A few of that stamp developed 
 into able leaders, but they were men who would have 
 achieved greatness in any walk of life. However, as I look 
 back at my early contemporaries, and class them with 
 hundreds of other young officers, both before and after 
 them, I feel a pride in thinking and knowing that one and 
 all, good and bad together, did England righteous service. 
 Whenever the occasion required it, they fought hard for 
 her honour, and in her interests led their men straight in 
 siege and battle. Although all did not put out their talents 
 to good interest, they loved their country, and never shrank 
 from death when her interests required them to face it. 
 
 At the Pongo Mess, as it was commonly called, I know 
 not why, the captains — they were looked upon as elderly 
 persons by us boys — sat at the end of the table furthest from 
 the door, so as to drink their port and sherry as far removed 
 as possible from the noisy ensigns who thronged the lower 
 end. They seldom spoke to us, and we looked upon them 
 with feelings approaching awe. This was entirely different 
 
 II 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 from the practice of all regimental messes, but at Chatham 
 we were nobody's children, and no one took any trouble 
 with us. There was none of the controlling influence over 
 us that the seniors in all regiments exercise over their 
 young brother officers, for at that depot mess no comrade- 
 ship existed. With one whom I met there, Pemberton of 
 the Royal Rifles, now a retired general, I have kept up a 
 close and a happy intimacy during life. He is now one of my 
 oldest and best friends. A gallant soldier, a generous and 
 affectionate comrade, without guile, simple and honest in 
 heart, he is a gentleman in thought, word and deed. May 
 his days be long. 
 
 The older officers interested me much, for a large number 
 wore medals, won in Indian campaigns, each and all of 
 which had pushed our frontier further north towards the 
 great mountains, the natural boundaries of Hindostan. 
 One of these officers still wore his arm in a sling from a bad 
 wound received at Chillianwallah, that unfortunate battle 
 where British courage was a more distinguishing feature 
 than either the strategical or tactical ability of the general 
 commanding. This disabled officer told me that on the 
 evening of that battle the dead bodies of thirteen of his 
 brother officers lay on the dining table in their mess tent. 
 Well, although " some one blundered," those men died like 
 gentlemen, and 1 remember well how much more I was 
 inspired with fighting ardour than depressed by this story. 
 There was an heroic grandeur about it that recalled to 
 memory my badly learned stories of fights before Troy. 
 I was barbarian enough to feel more enthusiastic over this 
 wounded officer's matter-of-fact narrative than I ever 
 felt when poring over Homer's heroic verse, trying to learn, 
 and doing my best to appreciate it. I confess that this 
 
 12 
 
LIFE AT CHATHAM 
 
 Englishman, with his arm in a sling, was to me a far greater 
 hero than either Hector or Achilles. But from boyhood to 
 this day, I have always had the poorest opinions of Homer's 
 heroes as fighting men. My servant. Private Andrews, of 
 I Company 90th Light Infantry, was in every way worth 
 a dozen of them, though he never found a great poet to 
 record his deeds. But he died for his country. 
 
 The relation of all actual deeds of daring has always 
 had for me an intense interest. As a boy they made my 
 pulse throb quickly when I read them in Peter Parleys 
 Annual, and they excite me still in no small degree. I 
 always loved to hear old soldiers talk about their daring 
 comrades in long forgotten fights. I still remember many 
 of their exciting stories. Here is one about Meeanee, 
 the battle fought by Sir Charles Napier, which gave us the 
 province of Scind. It may be truthfully said that it was 
 won by the 22nd, now known by its older title of the Cheshire 
 Regiment. It was the only British regiment present. Its 
 colonel was then a fighting gentleman from Tipperary, a 
 man of the old school, who knew little of strategy, and whose 
 tactics consisted in going straight for his enemy to knock 
 him down. He was afterwards well known at Aldershot 
 as Sir John Pennyfather, " the swearing general." The 
 day after he assumed command at Aldershot, an officer 
 quartered there was asked in a London club if Sir John 
 had yet appeared there. The reply was : " Yes, he swore 
 himself in yesterday." He seldom expressed any decided 
 opinion without the accompaniment of an oath, although 
 the real kindness of his disposition — well known to his 
 soldiers — was on a par with his daring courage. His 
 regiment was his home, and all ranks in it were to him his 
 children. It had lost heavUy in the battle, and as he 
 
 13 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 looked upon its thinned ranks that evening, he fairly broke 
 down. Intensely proud of what they had done that day, 
 and with tears coursing down his cheeks, he said to them : 
 
 " I can't make you a speech, my lads, but by , you 
 
 are all gentlemen." 
 
 Never, I believe, in classical or in modern times, has a 
 more effective speech been made by a leader to his men after 
 a battle. It was just the praise they valued most, for they 
 believed it to be the highest compliment any man could 
 pay them. They felt it ; they were proud of it. Un- 
 premeditated, it went straight from the colonel's feeling 
 heart to the hearts of the gallant soldiers he commanded. 
 
 At the time I write of, all the troopships and most of the 
 East-Indiamen sailed from Sheerness. During the last 
 week of June, 1852, I embarked in the Maidstone, a full- 
 rigged ship of between 800 and 900 tons, quite a respectable 
 sized vessel in those days. She belonged to the Wygram 
 Company of shipowners, the rival of the still greater com- 
 pany of Green and Co. Captain Peter Roe commanded 
 her, an experienced and able sailor, and socially a very 
 superior man in all respects. He kept up the reputation 
 of the old class of vessels known as East-Indiamen, a class 
 then fast disappearing, and entirely unknown to the present 
 generation. His officers were men of good manners, and 
 the ship's crew were all good British sailors, except the 
 boatswain, a iirst-rate man all round, who was either a 
 Dane or a Swede, I forget which. The carpenter was a 
 character — a Highlander — who knew the history of Scotland 
 well, and who could have passed with credit an examination 
 in Sir Walter Scott's novels. He might have been the 
 original " Chips " of Captain Marryat's manly stories. 
 
 The anchor weighed ; we were towed down the river until 
 
 14 
 
EMBARK FOR INDIA 
 
 our sails could be of use, and we were under all sail before 
 nightfall. We made good weather throughout the follow- 
 ing day, and I can well remember my thoughts and feelings 
 as I gazed earnestly upon the green fields and white cliffs 
 of dear old England, not knowing whether I should ever see 
 them again, or at least when I might do so. How I thought 
 of my mother, aU through life my first care. Poets imagine 
 that men say to themselves the night after a battle : " WTiat 
 will they say in England ? " I believe that by far the 
 largest proportion of men think of their mother, and of her 
 valued love for them. At least so it has been all through 
 my life. But then I had the best and dearest of mothers ; 
 happily, most men think that also. 
 
 I had never been a good sailor, so I kept my hammock, 
 or rather swinging cot, for a couple of days, and then 
 struggled on deck. It was my apprenticeship to the sea, 
 and I have scarcely ever been seasick since. In those days, 
 aU passengers had to furnish their own cabins. I had 
 another ensign as my cabin companion, Mr. Grahame, 
 22nd Regiment, whose younger brother subsequently 
 joined what I have always called " My Regiment," the 
 90th Light Infantry, as it was the only one with whose head 
 quarters I ever did duty. He spoke with a Scotch accent, 
 and had all the proverbial qualities of his race. His brother, 
 who was kiUed at the Alum Bagh, was one of the very 
 bravest men I ever knew : I shall refe-r to him later on. 
 Our cabin was spacious enough, with a large square port- 
 hole, which in ordinary weather, when we were on the lee 
 side, we were usually able to keep wide open. The first 
 warning we generally had of bad weather coming on was 
 the appearance of the fine old Scotch carpenter to screw 
 up this port. When so fastened down in the tropics the 
 
 15 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 cabm became unbearable, and I for one could not sleep 
 below, for the cockroaches flying about and settling at 
 times on nose or face made me bound out of my cot to 
 hurry up into the delightful air and quiet of a night at sea 
 when near the Line. 
 
 We had on board about 150 soldiers, and some women and 
 children belonging to them. There were a few old sergeants 
 and a small number of old privates who, having been in- 
 valided from India and restored to health at home, were 
 returning — without any doubt to die with their regiments 
 in the Bengal Presidency. The man allotted to me as a 
 servant was one of these. He was an Irishman of the 
 loth Foot, and upon my asking him why he had been 
 sent home, said he was invalided from Die-sentary. I 
 said inquiringly, " from where ? " He repeated that he had 
 nearly died from Die-sentary in India. His meaning then 
 dawned upon me, and I realized how much accentuation 
 had to do with our language. How difficult it must be for a 
 foreigner to understand us, when a misplaced accent in 
 our pronunciation of a well-known disease renders its 
 meaning unintelligible amongst ourselves. 
 
 Our commanding officer on board was a tiny little man, 
 an old lieutenant in the Lincolnshire Regiment, who had 
 taken part in the Sutlej campaign of 1846. At the head of 
 that regiment was an Irishman named Franks — ^well known 
 in the Army then as a terrible martinet— who was hated 
 by all ranks under him. No officer in the regiment would 
 accept the position of adjutant, so harsh was he even to 
 his officers. A lieutenant was at last found in another 
 regiment who was willing to accept it, namely young Henry 
 Havelock, the most daring of men in action and full of 
 military ability. He often told me stories about the strange 
 
 16 
 
VOYAGE TO INDIA 1852 
 
 colonel he had then to serve with — a man as rigorous and 
 uncompromising towards his officers as he was in all his 
 dealings with the rank and file. Just before the battalion 
 moved into action the day of Sobraon, the colonel said to 
 his men : " I understand you mean to shoot me to-day, 
 but I want you to do me a favour; don't kill me until 
 the battle is weU over." It was quite true ; they 
 had meant to shoot him, but the coolness with which the 
 request was made, the soldier-like spirit and indifference 
 to death it denoted, the daring and contempt for danger 
 he displayed throughout the battle, so won their admiration 
 that they allowed him to live. But history tells us he 
 never reformed. 
 
 Life on board an East-Indiaman, before steamers went 
 round the Cape, or a railway had been made across the 
 Isthmus of Suez, has been often told by more graphic pens 
 than mine. It was a wearisome monotony usually spent, 
 I think it is Macaulay who says so, in making love and in 
 quarrelling. Our doctor was a Hercules in strength, and 
 a sad story wels told of him which, in its main features was, 
 I believe, true. He, with his wife and child, were upset from 
 a boat in some river ; he took one under each arm, and swam 
 vigorously for shore. Becoming exhausted, he had to 
 drop his child to save his wife, whom he brought safely to 
 land. 
 
 We had but few books, and they were of little count, 
 but it was amusing to watch the idiosyncrasies and study 
 the characters of those around one. The captain held him- 
 self very much aloof from aU of us, but if I had had to pick 
 out the man who had most in him and was made of the best 
 stuff, I should have selected him. There seemed to be 
 so much reserve force about him that he was a problem 
 
 VOL. I. 17 c 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 to me, little as ever he deigned to say to me during the 
 voyage. However, I was very independent of others, for 
 I pored over a Hindostani grammar and phrase book, and 
 without any Moonshee to guide me, tried to read fables 
 and httle stories in what was then known in India as " the 
 vernacular." This with drawing, keeping an elaborate 
 journal, and revelling in the few mihtary works I possessed, 
 enabled me to get through the long days of sunlight more 
 easily, I think, than my companions. I roamed about the 
 yards and upper rigging, the main top in fair weather being a 
 favourite reading place. I have sat there for hours with a 
 book in my hands, and many were the visits I paid to the 
 main truck. The most trjdng thing for the nerves, however, 
 was to go out along the bowsprit and then back on board, 
 hand-over-hand along the bobstay under the dolphin-striker. 
 
 This running about the rigging supplied me with the 
 bodily exercise that is so necessary for muscular vigour, 
 and was an outlet for my pent-up energy, which, on board 
 ship, required a safety-valve to prevent an explosion. 
 When approaching squalls led to the order, " all hands," 
 or even " watch shorten sail," I usually took my place 
 with the reefers on the mizzen-top-sail-yard, and enjoyed 
 the fun and excitement immensely. To lean far over the 
 yard and pick up the reef points whilst the luffed sail flapped 
 violently about your legs with the seeming object of striking 
 your feet from the rope you stood on, was pleasantly ex- 
 citing. But though I was the only passenger who thus 
 amused himself, the daUy occupations of aU were more 
 muscular than mental. 
 
 We sighted Madeira and some small islands and rocks 
 during our voyage to the Cape, aU of which I sketched. 
 Their outlines with a bright sky above and a very blue sea 
 
 i8 
 
CROSSING THE LINE 
 
 beneath gave us something to talk about, and provided me 
 with objects for my sketch book. 
 
 We had some of the amusing ceremonies then usual when 
 crossing the Line, but in a modified form, for I believe there 
 was a rule against their being played at on board troopships 
 with all their old-fashioned formalities. The week or fort- 
 night during which sailing-ships were usually becalmed 
 in the neighbourhood was then about the most tedious and 
 temper-trying period of a voyage to India. For hours, 
 sometimes for days, your vessel drifted about, with flapping 
 sails and not enough wind to enable you to keep your 
 course. The rubbish thrown overboard from the ship's 
 galley after breakfast floated about your taffrail all day, 
 and you were lucky if you did not see it still there next 
 morning. There were generally at this season of the year 
 other Eastern-bound ships in sight in those latitudes. 
 SaUors never liked to get their vessels too close then, for 
 on this calm and, as it were, painted sea, when they ap- 
 proached very near one another, they were apt to close in, 
 being drawn together by the afiinity which bodies of loose 
 matter have one for the other when no counteracting force 
 is there to keep them apart. We often signalled to other 
 ships situated as we were, but we never communicated by 
 boat, as we were told was not an uncommon practice under 
 like circumstances in those latitudes. Sometimes boats 
 were had out, I understood, to tow the becalmed ships, 
 but we patiently awaited the very Hght winds which every 
 now and then enabled us to keep steerage way on the good 
 ship. Shark catching afforded us occupation and subject 
 for conversation, but altogether it was a duU time, and 
 taking us all in all, we were a dull, uninteresting lot on 
 board the old Maidstone. 
 
 19 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 The one ardent hope that cheered me through the long 
 monotonous days spent amidst uncongenial companions 
 on board this ship was that I might reach Burmah in time 
 to see some active service there. I thought then, I think 
 stni, that this was a manly, elevating aspiration, for surely 
 war with all its horrors exercises a healthy influence on all 
 classes of society. There is an epoch in the history of nations 
 when man becomes so absorbed in the pursuit of wealth 
 and the enjoyment of ease, that the drastic medicine of 
 war can alone revive its former manliness and restore the 
 virility that had made its sons renowned. Storms, we are 
 told, drive away noxious vapours injurious to bodily health. 
 War may cause havoc, but the ruins of Thebes, of Carthage, 
 of Greece and of Rome, remind us that unmanly vices killed 
 the races which built these once famous and powerful cities. 
 It is man's wrong-doing, not his desire for glory, which 
 destroys his efforts to be great. Conquering races may be 
 inferior as poets, artists and writers to those they subdue, 
 but the latter would not have been subdued had they 
 retained the manly virtues that made their forebears great. 
 National greatness can only continue to thrive whilst it has 
 fighting strength for its foundation. War, though it may 
 mean a hard struggle for national existence, is the greatest 
 purifier to the race or nation that has reached the verge 
 of over-refinement, of excessive civihzation. That verge 
 is the edge of a precipice at whose base lie millions in every 
 form and phase of mental and bodily decrepitude. 
 
 A favourable voyage of fifty days, devoid of all striking 
 incidents, found us at last anchored in Table Bay, the port 
 of Cape Town. That capital of our South African Colonies 
 was then a very small but most picturesque place, com- 
 pared with the very dusty smoky city of to-day. We 
 
 20 
 
CAPE TOWN 
 
 sailed into the bay in the early morning when the view 
 was both striking and delightful. The now overbuilt 
 hill, known as the Lion's Rump, was richly green, some 
 few villas scattered over it, whilst the town itself was 
 brilliantly lit up with the rays of the morning sun. Between 
 it and the base of the steep and rocky Table Mountain 
 behind, was a rich belt of trees into which seemed to run 
 all the main streets leading up from the sea. The Bay 
 faces the north-west, and as the worst wind blows from that 
 quarter, no year then passed without some ships being 
 driven ashore. The consequence was, that on the beach 
 at the south-eastern end of the Bay, we saw the remains 
 of what were once noble ships, that, having dragged their 
 anchors or parted their cables, had been wrecked there at 
 various times. We came in for one of these hurricanes, as 
 I shall describe a little further on. 
 
 We had no sooner anchored than the ship was surrounded 
 with boats manned by Malays, and laden with fruits of 
 many kinds. 
 
 Trips to Wineburg and places in the neighbourhood were 
 now the order of the day. I pitied the poor rank and file, 
 in whom, at that period, sufficient trust was not placed to 
 be allowed ashore. Even now, I may say in parenthesis, 
 if the old school were allowed their way, they would receive 
 very much the same treatment. We were asked out, and 
 whether it was from being so long on board ship, or that the 
 Dutch girls at the Cape were pretty, we found them very 
 pleasant and attractive. A short time after our arrival, 
 when it was my day of duty on board ship, the signal was 
 made from shore to look out for a nor'-wester. The wind 
 grew rapidly higher and higher, and the sea came roUing 
 in with great violence. Some of the smaller craft drifted 
 
 21 
 
THE STORY OP A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 past us towards the fatal beach at the upper end of the Bay, 
 where several went ashore. All the big ships, riding with 
 double anchors, had already paid out most of their cables 
 when the signal was made to us from Fort Amsterdam, 
 ** prepare to land troops ; boats will be sent." All the men 
 at once paraded on deck, and I was told off to take charge 
 of the first boatload. A very fine and capacious sort of 
 open yawl was soon alongside, into which about thirty 
 men or more were packed as best we could. It was a 
 matter of serious danger in such a sea to get from our ship 
 on board this large cargo boat. We shoved off, but the sea 
 was too much for us, although my boyish yachting experi- 
 ence told me how admirably she was handled by her Dutch 
 crew. Every moment I thought she must go over, so 
 much so that I kept my hands on the buckle of my sword 
 belt, ready to cast it off the moment she did so. Reason 
 told me I could do very little to save myself in such a sea, 
 but I was at any rate determined to make a fight with it 
 for my life. The skipper struggled hard to make the shore, 
 but at last gave it up. He said the wind and sea had risen 
 so much since he had left the landing place that even if 
 we had succeeded in making it the men could not have been 
 landed. We accordingly headed back to the ship, and 
 were mostly slung on board. I was much struck with the 
 quiet manner in which the young soldiers behaved, obeying 
 with alacrity all orders given to them. 
 
 Having stayed about ten days at the Cape, we set sail 
 for Calcutta, sighting the little islands of St. Paul's and 
 Amsterdam in the very stormy seas of that far-off parallel 
 of southern latitude. In those days all ships bound for 
 the Bay of Bengal followed the western trades as far- as 
 those islands, and making " a new departure^" from them, 
 
 22 
 
CALCUTTA 1852 
 
 turned northwards towards the mouth of the sacred Ganges. 
 Before the end of October, we had sighted the low-lying 
 mudbanks near the mouth of the river Hooghley. We 
 anchored more than once, after taking a pilot on board 
 at the " Sand Heads," and successfully passed the very dan- 
 gerous reach of the river, known as the " James and Mary." 
 
 As we neared Calcutta we heard minute guns being fired 
 from Fort William, and wondered and asked one another 
 for whom they could be. I can remember as it might have 
 been yesterday the shock, the thrill, I experienced — I am 
 sure those around me felt it also — when a voice from the first 
 boat alongside cried out, " The Duke of Wellington is dead." 
 As we had speculated upon whom it could be who had 
 passed away, strange to say, the great Duke's name had 
 occurred to none. From earliest childhood we had been 
 so accustomed to hear him referred to as the greatest of 
 living men, that my generation had grown up to regard 
 him as an Immortal, and as a national institution. Every 
 voice was hushed, and in a moment all was silence on deck. 
 Had we been told a king was dead, we should in duty bound 
 have cried, "Vive le Roi." But where was another Welling- 
 ton to be found ? There were many kings and heirs-apparent, 
 but the world possessed only one " Iron Duke," the great 
 conqueror of Napoleon, who had at Waterloo freed many 
 prostrate nations, and restored peace to an exhausted 
 Europe. 
 
 England's mainstay had parted, and the nation had so 
 much forgotten how long its noble purpose had been ful- 
 filled, that when the catastrophe came it was unexpected. 
 It seemed for the time to be a knock-me-down blow past all 
 recovery. Our national influence abroad, as well as our 
 security at home , was felt to be no longer what it had been 
 
 23 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 whilst our great captain and pilot lived. There was no one 
 who could take his place in the Councils of our Sovereign. 
 She had lost her most valued friend, the strongest support 
 of her throne, the statesman, honest, truthful, and frank 
 as he was wise, to whom she could at all times turn for ad- 
 vice with the fullest confidence. Wellington was dead. 
 And all on that deck who heard the news as it was called 
 out, felt that England was no longer what she had been. 
 
 We have since had many able ministers, devoted to their 
 country's interest, and also a host of self-called statesmen 
 devoted to politics, but to compare the best amongst them 
 all with the great soldier and patriot then taken from us 
 would have been as ridiculous as to have spoken of the 
 wherry alongside with all the importance and admiration 
 usually bestowed upon a three-decker. 
 
 His was no churchwarden-like policy, and his reputa- 
 tion for general sagacity, as well as for mUitary leader- 
 ship, was as fuUy recognized abroad as it was with us. Not 
 very many years before his death war between Prussia 
 and France was believed to be inevitable. As the Prussians 
 had no great general then, their king turned to Wellington 
 and asked him to take command of the Prussian army 
 should war be forced upon him. His answer was very 
 characteristic of the man. He said he was the Queen's 
 servant, and would do as she ordered him. This is a fact 
 little known, for the expected war was postponed for 
 another generation.^ 
 
 ' The negotiation in this matter was carried on by Lord William 
 Russell, then our Minister in Berlin, and copies of the correspondence 
 were in the hands of Lord Arthur Russell, his son, who showed them 
 to me. 
 
 24 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 Land in India — On Active Service in 
 Burmah in 1852—3 
 
 ALL the soldiers on board the Maidstone were sent by 
 river from Calcutta to Chinsura, an old Dutch 
 settlement, where the English drafts for regiments in the 
 Bengal Presidency were then annually collected before being 
 sent to their respective destinations. There we were lodged 
 in a long range of officers' quarters, an unusual thing in 
 India, and every room was crowded with comets and 
 ensigns awaiting their marching orders. It was a dull 
 dreary mildewy-looking place, without any possible amuse- 
 ment, except snipe-shooting in the neighbouring rice fields , 
 where snakes abounded, and bad fever was to be easily 
 caught. However, neither snakes nor dread of fever 
 deterred boys like myself from the sport, for the snipe were 
 plentiful. I wish all our amusements had been as harmless. 
 The church stood within twenty yards of our verandah, 
 and its tower was adorned with a clock whose dial terribly 
 and temptingly resembled a target. Idling all day, it was a 
 frequent amusement to use it for pistol practice, until it 
 became so plastered with bullets that either the works were 
 injured or the hands were prevented from moving. At 
 least something of the sort took place one day, for the 
 
 25 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 clock suddenly stopped, and thenceforward during the 
 remainder of our stay at Chinsura the hands pointed to 
 
 II.I5- 
 
 One evening a party of young officers started to pay a 
 visit to the French settlement of Chandemagore. It was 
 within an easy drive for a one-horse buggy, along a level 
 road. The party dined at the inn there, and all partook 
 freely of French wines. Having paid the bill they started 
 to return, and a very jovial and a somewhat too noisy lot 
 they were. As luck - would have it, before leaving the 
 settlement — it is only about a mile square, one side being 
 the river — they had to pass a guardhouse of French sepoys. 
 Not thinking much of any native soldiers, and having a 
 thorough contempt for those in the French service, the 
 Devil prompted one of the party to propose they should 
 stop and disarm this guard. No sooner said than done — 
 they seized the arms of the guard and dispersed the sepoys, 
 who fled for their lives. 
 
 The poor clock had been destroyed and did not remon- 
 strate, but the governor of this French settlement did, 
 and there was a terrible uproar. His flag had been insulted ! 
 However, before anything serious could come of it, the 
 young perpetrators of this silly joke were on their way to 
 join their regiments in the North-West Provinces, the 
 Punjaub, etc., etc. I think what most led to this mad 
 incident was a British contempt for this ridiculous little 
 settlement, not larger than a good kitchen garden in the 
 midst of our great Indian Empire. 
 
 WhUe I was at Chinsura, one of the great annual Hindoo 
 festivals came off. Such beating of tom-toms and pictur- 
 esque processions to the river ghats ! A native who supplied 
 us with all we needed in the way of beer and wine, invited 
 
 i6 
 
CHINSURA 
 
 me to his house to see the god he had had built for the holy- 
 function. Each family of any note or fortune in the place 
 had their idol made for the solemn rite. It looked somewhat 
 like the images of the Virgin Mary in the Catholic churches, 
 except that instead of being draped in a satin costume of 
 Parisian fashion, it was clothed in flowing garments more 
 suited to an Eastern climate. There was the same amount 
 of sham jewels in both instances. The native idol was 
 upon the last day of the festival carried in noisy procession, 
 surrounded by ardent and fanatical believers, to the river, 
 into which it was thrown, and thus confided to the waters, 
 so sacred in their eyes. Made of mud, it soon returns to 
 whence it came. My native host confided to me with great 
 pride that his idol had cost him 150 rupees, an amount then 
 equal to £15. 
 
 I made one or two trips to Calcutta, to see its fort and 
 Government House, on whose top stood many of the huge, 
 gruesome birds known as adjutants. I saw a little of 
 society, and was astonished at the luxury in which the 
 members of the great Indian Civil Service then lived. 
 
 Chinsura was soon clear of aU troops, except the draft for 
 the regiments then in Burmah. AU through the months 
 spent in the voyage out, I had looked forward hopefully to 
 be in time for some of the military operations then being 
 carried out in the vaUey of the Irrewaddy, and every day 
 spent on the banks of the Hooghley was to me so much time 
 misspent. Like all young soldiers, I longed to hear 
 the whistle of a buUet fired in earnest ; and as days went 
 by, the opportunity of doing so seemed to elude me. 
 It seemed as if I should miss the Burmese campaign alto- 
 gether, and return home without having seen a shot fired. 
 
 The long hoped for orders arrived at last, and the 80th 
 
 27 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 draft from home duly embarked in one of John Company's 
 steamers for Rangoon. General Godwin, an old man in a 
 wig, who then commanded the army in Burmah, had proved 
 himself to be a man of energy in this, his second Burmese 
 War. All the kingdom as far as Prome had been conquered 
 and annexed to our empire, and there seemed to be nothing 
 left to do. The Civil servants from India had begun to 
 arrive, and to set ^up those many offices of revenue, ad- 
 ministrative and judicial establishments, which in all our 
 Eastern possessions are the outward evidence of a civilized 
 government. The European troops were far from healthy, 
 bad fevers and cholera diminishing their numbers sadly. 
 This had been the case in a stUl more marked degree in the 
 former war, during which every known hygienic law was 
 scouted. My occupations were few. I was drilled every 
 morning, and taught the ordinary movements of a squad 
 and company. The whole 8oth detachment being recruits 
 like myself, were similarly occupied in learning the goose 
 step, and those " extensive motions," which then con- 
 stituted the only physical driU taught the soldier. We lived 
 in wooden huts inside the great and well-built stockade the 
 enemy had erected at the beginning of the war. It con- 
 sisted of a substantial rampart about twelve feet wide on top, 
 and revetted within and without by great teak logs placed 
 vertically with the lower ends sunk in the ground. The 
 intervening space was filled with weU rammed earth. The 
 logs of the outer revetment stretched up some six or more 
 feet above the terreplein of the rampart, every fourth or 
 fifth log being cut some three feet shorter than the rest 
 to form loopholes and embrasures along it. There were 
 many flanking towers, and the gates were weU protected 
 with traverses made in a similar fashion. Practically 
 
 28 
 
RANGOON 1852 
 
 it formed a square, each side being about a mile long. It 
 joined the hUl — ^partly natural, but still more of it being 
 made by man — on which stands the magnificent Shue Dagon 
 pagoda ; strongly entrenched, it thus served the purpose 
 of an interior keep. These ramparts were occupied at night 
 by our native infantry, the gates having strong guards 
 upon them at all times, and beyond the pagoda on its 
 eastern face a strong picket of British soldiers was mounted 
 day and night. It usually consisted of so many men from 
 each of the detachments left behind when the army had 
 advanced on Prome. A guard so furnished was not likely 
 to be either a very harmonious or efficient protection ; and 
 what made it worse was, that since the arrival of the drafts 
 from home for the regiments up the river, there was always 
 in it a strong leaven of badly drilled and worse disciplined 
 recruits. 
 
 Not long after landing I found myself in orders to com- 
 mand this " outlying picket." I was very proud, but the 
 consciousness that I was absolutely unable even to move any 
 body of men on parade, and ignorant even of the required 
 words of command, introduced a strong element of shyness 
 and funk into my feelings of satisfaction. As regarded the 
 art of outpost duty, few knew it theoretically better than I 
 did. I could have passed a high competitive examination 
 in aU the then commonly known books on light infantry, 
 and its mode of employment in the field as practised by 
 our army in the Peninsula. For years back I had spent 
 my spare money — it was not much, however — in buying 
 all such books, so that my little military library far exceeded 
 in size and useful works those of even our old generals of 
 that time. But although I knew what the objects of these 
 outposts were, and how I could secure them, what I should 
 
 29 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 do to strengthen my positions, and was well read in the many 
 ruses I had to guard against on the part of an enterprising 
 enemy, I was absolutely unequal to the mechanical operation 
 of getting my men from their own parade ground to the out- 
 post in question. Prompted, however, by a good-natured 
 sergeant, who in years might have been my father, I suc- 
 ceeded, much to my delight, in marching off my party and 
 in drawing it up, facing the old picket I was to relieve. My 
 picket was made up of men belonging to the Royal Irish, 
 the King's Own Light Infantry, and to the South Stafford 
 Regiment, to which I then belonged. On parade they stood 
 according to the seniority of their regiments from the right, 
 in the order I have placed them. Such was and stiU is the 
 rule, so that in a line made up of several regiments or 
 detachments of regiments, the Royal Irish, being the senior 
 of the Queen's regiments then in Burmah, would always 
 have been on the right of the line. The subaltern I relieved 
 told me that he had numbered oil from the left, so that I 
 should number off from the right ; and away he marched 
 with his men, giving me no further information or advice. 
 In accordance with what he told me, I ordered my picket 
 to number off from the right. The right-hand man of the 
 Royal Irish positively refused to do any such thing, adding, 
 as his excuse, " Shure, they're always numbering off from 
 the right." I felt horrified at my inexperience, but ordered 
 him to be made a prisoner. It was not until I had made 
 three of these villains prisoners that I came to a man who 
 obeyed my order. Of course these three men, seeing that 
 I was very young and absolutely ignorant of my drUl, 
 thought they would, in their Hibernian fashion, bamboozle 
 and perhaps terrify me. However, I sent back all three 
 to their own lines, and had them replaced by three others. 
 
 30 
 
ON OUTLYING PICKET 
 
 My first night's picket duty had begun unfortunately. 
 Whenever it came to the turn of the Royal Irish to find the 
 sentries, they invariably fired at enemies they pretended to 
 see approaching the post. This entailed upon me many long 
 weary walks round my line of sentries, although I knew well 
 they were doing this to spite me for having sent back as 
 prisoners three of their comrades for disobedience of orders. 
 But angry as I was at these many tramps in the dark over 
 broken ground, I laughed to myself at the ingenious, amusing 
 and entirely untruthful accounts they gave me of why they 
 had fired, and by doing so had alarmed the picket. Some 
 had evidently fired at stray cows, others at nothing, though 
 had I believed their stories I ought to have sent back for 
 reinforcements to repel the numerous hostile bodies of 
 Burmans they swore to have seen approaching them. 
 
 It was a lovely night, and I walked up and down in front 
 of my picket for many hours. The great Shue Dagon 
 Pagoda, rich in gilding and near at hand, stood out in the 
 starlight, a silhouette against the deep steel-blue of a clear 
 Eastern midnight sky. The Hghtest breath of air rang 
 several of the gUt bells which studded the graceful, 
 umbrella-shaped crown in which this lofty pagoda 
 ended. The tongue of every beU had a sort of heart- 
 shaped plate attached to it, which caught the gentlest wind, 
 so their music was practically continuous. 
 
 In the profound stillness of night this soft murmur of 
 sweet-toned bells, some 500 feet above me, was delightful. 
 I remember it still as if I had heard it last night ; I 
 remember how, as I walked up and down, by the pile of 
 arms, my boyish mind ranged from warlike aspirations to 
 thoughts of home. 
 
 I was very proud of being actually in command of an 
 
 31 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 outpost, and I carefully went over in my mind the many 
 lessons I had learnt from military books on the subject. 
 I planned what I shoiild do if attacked, and oh, how I 
 longed to be attacked I 
 
 My picket was lodged in a highly-carved wooden Poongey 
 house, and on the opposite side of the narrow road where 
 it stood was another very similar, but smaller, building. 
 This was made use of by the officer. Tired and sleepy, 
 more than once I lay down on its boarded floor ; but rats 
 abounded, and an abominable lizard, calling out " chuck- 
 chew " all through the night, made sleep difficult. There 
 was a common belief that this particular lizard was danger- 
 ous, and that its bite, if not fatal, was serious. I had and 
 still have the greatest horror of all reptiles, small and large, 
 and these Burmese lizards, with their hideous heads and 
 bright many-coloured bodies, made me shudder as I thought 
 of their possibly running over my face when asleep. 
 
 I have been on outpost duty in other campaigns times 
 without number, and fifty eventful years have passed since 
 that night ; but yet, not only are all its occurrences still 
 fresh in my memory, but so are also the subjects of my 
 thoughts and waking dreams, and the hopes which then 
 filled my breast are still marked there indelibly. 
 
 As a boy I had often played in dark evenings at " hide 
 and seek " out of doors ; it was a game I loved. In after 
 years, as a regimental officer, how much I was often re- 
 minded of that amusement by night outpost duty. As I 
 peered with straining eyes through the darkness towards 
 the enemy's position, to try if I could see any one moving, 
 and as I listened for the noise of hostile patrols or of a word 
 carelessly spoken aloud in my front, the sensations of my 
 youthful games by night came back vividly before me. 
 
 32 
 
AN IRISH ORDERLY ROOM 
 
 Now fades the glimmering landscape on the night, 
 And all the air a solemn stillness holds, 
 Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight. 
 And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds. 
 
 Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tower 
 The moping owl does to the moon complain 
 Of such as, wandering near her secret bower, 
 Molest her ancient soUtary reign. 
 
 What a memory of varied, and alas, vanished scenes on 
 outpost duty these beautiful lines bring back to me ! 
 
 The next morning I had to appear at the orderly room 
 of the Royal Irish detachment. It was a little room in 
 a small teak-built hut, and there Colonel Grattan, C.B., 
 of that historic regiment, daUy dispensed justice to his young 
 recruits. He was an old and amusing Irishman, full of 
 quaint stories, and a very pleasant companion. Taken 
 prisoner in the China War, he had been carried about in 
 a cage as a show for the amusement of millions who had 
 never before seen a European. His smiling face and 
 grotesque grimaces always obtained for him a favourable 
 reception. He greeted me pleasantly when I entered 
 his orderly room, where — I may explain for civiUan 
 readers — the commanding officer of every regiment and 
 battalion in the Army holds a daUy court to administer 
 justice all round. Three prisoners from Tipperary were 
 marched in bareheaded, and were drawn up facing the 
 colonel, who sat, pen in hand, behind a little table which 
 separated them from him. A corporal and a file of the guard, 
 with drawn bayonets, stood beside the culprits, an acting 
 sergeant-major, standing, as aU the others were, at " Atten- 
 tion," made up the stage. A solemn silence that somewhat 
 awed me pervaded the scene, and my shyness became 
 greater when the funny-looking colonel addressing me, 
 asked me sternly what complaint I had to make against the 
 
 VOL. I. 33 D 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 prisoners. I told my story as best I could, being extremely 
 impressed by what I believed to be the gravity of the offence. 
 My military reading and study of the Miitiny Act and 
 Articles of War had led me to believe that, next to striking 
 an officer or running away in battle, these prisoners had 
 committed the most heinous offence in absolutely refusing to 
 obey a lawful command when on outpost duty before the 
 enemy. I expected they would be at once sent to trial 
 before a general court martial, and either sentenced to 
 death, or if their lives were spared in consideration of their 
 youth and entire ignorance of a soldier's duty, they would 
 at least be transported. 
 
 When I had finished my awful indictment, the colonel, 
 with his fuimy little grey eyes, frowned from under his long 
 grey eyebrows, first at me and then in sternness at the boy 
 prisoners before him. There was an awful pause ; you could 
 have heard a pin drop if any one there had had such an 
 evidence of civilization ready for the occasion. I held my 
 breath, not knowing what was coming. I looked at the 
 sergeant-major ; his face was wooden and devoid of all 
 expression as he stolidly looked straight before him into 
 nothing. In a moment a voUey of oaths from the colonel 
 relieved the atmospheric pressure. He called the prisoners 
 " limbs of Satan," and choking, partly at least I should say 
 from an assumed fury, and partly because his vituperative 
 vocabulary had come to an end, he jumped to his feet, 
 upsetting the table, with its ink bottle, papers, etc., and 
 rushed upon the prisoners, kicking hard at the nearest, and 
 crying aloud ; " Get out, ye blackguards ; never let me 
 see you again." Whether it was that the prisoners were 
 accustomed to this mode of justice and, being frightened, 
 were anxious to avoid the toes of their colonel's boots as he 
 
 34 
 
THE IRISH SOLDIER 
 
 lashed out at them or not, they turned round and ran for 
 their lives, the sergeant-major after them, with their caps, 
 which he had been holding — according to regulation — 
 whilst this strangely scenic trial was being enacted. 
 
 I was in dismay, and for a moment thought of running 
 too, but seeing the old colonel burst out laughing, I tried 
 to smile, but it was an unhealthy attempt at hilarity on my 
 part. However, being assured the men would never forget 
 the scene or misbehave again, I went away, feeling rather 
 that I had been the culprit, and had only escaped condign 
 punishment through consideration of my youth and com- 
 plete ignorance of all military customs and laws. I don't 
 know whether these three boys from Tipperary retained a 
 lasting remembrance — as I did — of this curious mode of 
 administering justice, but I am sure their colonel's conduct 
 was far more in consonance with their views of propriety, 
 and far better suited to the case, than any sentence of 
 imprisonment or trial by court martial would have been. I 
 laugh now as I think of the whole scene, and as I do so 
 I feel all the more how necessary it is that Irish soldiers 
 should have Irish officers over them, who understand their 
 curiously Eastern character, and who are consequently 
 better able to deal with them than strangers can. 
 
 We now have a far better taught body of officers and a 
 far more highly trained rank and file, and there is an infi- 
 nitely keener sense of duty alive amongst us aU than for- 
 merly. The Army is far more of a profession, I might 
 truthfully say of a learned profession, than it was. Since 
 purchase was abolished, aU officers feel that promotion and 
 distinction, according to their natural talents, is within the 
 grasp of those who will work hard, and who are determined 
 to make themselves thoroughly efficient as military business 
 
 §5 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 men, and fit to lead others. We no longer flog our men, and 
 there has grown up — very much I believe in consequence 
 of that fact — between them and us an intimate feeling of 
 comradeship and friendship that did not then exist. 
 
 It was always my practice to collect information about 
 the inhabitants of any place where I found myself. The 
 manners, customs, means of livelihood, and especially the 
 religious belief of distant races, interested me greatly and 
 gave me much to say in my home letters. Upon arrival in 
 Burmah, I knew nothing of Buddhism ; had read nothing, 
 I may say, about Buddha or his holy life, and regarded the 
 system of religion he founded as merely one of the many 
 phases of idolatry which I foolishly believed to be so common 
 in Asia. Like most ignorant boys, I assumed that the Koran 
 contained the only religious teaching outside our Bible worthy 
 of study. Mahomet was such a splendid character as a 
 man, and his faith resembled so much that of Abraham, of 
 Moses and of Joshua, that it took easy hold of my youthful 
 imagination. Those great fighting kaliphs, who, with the 
 Koran in one hand and the sword in the other, had spread 
 their religion and their arts and sciences over so much of the 
 world, had always been heroes to me. There was a sim- 
 plicity and an open manliness about their religion. The 
 Old Testament had always and still has a deep, a holy 
 charm for me. It is so human, and its heroes come so near 
 in character and in faith to those of early Christianity. I 
 soon learnt in Burmah how much there was in common 
 between my simple faith and that of the Buddhist, when 
 divested of what I may term its speculative philosophy. 
 Every morning there went past my hut one or more pongees 
 — the native priests — ^begging for the food they required for 
 the day. Their closely-shaven heads and ganary-yellovy 
 
 36 
 
EDUCATION IN BURMAH 
 
 garments were everywhere respected. The people did not 
 cringe or bow or kneel before them in any superstitious 
 awe of their priestly attributes, but welcomed them as 
 holy men devoted to their religion, and as the schoolmasters 
 of the young. They were universally regarded as good 
 men who worked at an occupation which brought them no 
 worldly wealth, but which was necessary for the common 
 good. They were not only priests, but secular school- 
 masters, and the result of this system was that one rarely 
 met a Burman who could not read, write, and do simple 
 sums in arithmetic. Centuries before we had any system of 
 national education there was in existence in all countries where 
 Gauatma was worshipped a well-established educational 
 system for the young. In my daily rides round Rangoon, 
 it was pleasant to hear the hum of children's voices repeat- 
 ing their daily lessons as I passed each village or district 
 schoolhouse. How often I thought then of the hundreds 
 of parishes at home without either school or schoolmaster, 
 though the squire's house was large and many of the neigh- 
 bouring gentry were fairly rich. The contrast was not to 
 the credit of our Christianity. Yet we called the Burmese 
 barbarians and heathens, and dubbed them " poor soldiers " 
 because they did not understand modern war ! 
 
 To me, as to aU men arriving in Burmah from India, 
 the people of the former country seemed a much superior 
 race. If you listeiied to some Bengalee, or to any two of 
 your native servants as they talked amongst themselves, 
 all their conversation was invariably upon the subject of 
 money, of food, and the quality of the water in the locality. 
 Those subjects were apparently always uppermost in their 
 minds, and as they conversed no smile on their faces told 
 you that life brought them any pleasure. A serious and 
 
 37 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 a very poor people, whose existence Beemed to be one of 
 constant struggle for the necessaries of life, and into which 
 amusement in any form seemed to enter little. But their 
 annual religious festivals and the domestic events of all 
 men's lives, marriage, birth of children, and the death of 
 wives or brothers, were their recognized opportunities for 
 display. No matter how poor they were, they would 
 spend their last pice, and would even have recourse to the 
 village money-lender to enable them to mark these family 
 events to the best of their ability. The tom-tomming — 
 drum beating— especially at night, announced that the 
 poor Hindoo was celebrating some domestic occurrence 
 which custom — that most horrible of tyrants in all ages 
 and amongst all peoples — required him to notify to his 
 neighbours after a certain long established fashion. But, 
 watching the man's face and the countenances of his friends 
 who joined him upon the occasion, though it may, from a 
 sense of propriety, have been a matter of pride, or, at best, 
 of satisfaction to him and his family, no smile, no laugh 
 or tears bespoke the man's inner feelings. To the ignorant 
 stranger the whole affair seemed to be a matter of duty, 
 but not one of either rejoicing or of sorrow. 
 
 But how different were the Burmans. They did not take 
 life thus seriously, but laughed and talked, and looked you 
 straight in the face as they spoke to you. They are fond 
 of fun, of football — as they plaj' it— and devoted to cock- 
 fighting. As a people they are of a decidedly Mongolian 
 type, with broad shoulders, strong necks, long bodies, and 
 short bandy but muscular legs. 
 
 When contrasted with the mild Hindoo, thej'- strike you 
 as a fine manly people, who enjoy life, and ought to make 
 good soldiers. But although brave hardy fellows, that can 
 
 38 
 
THE BURMESE SOLDIER 
 
 live upon little, you cannot convert them into disciplined 
 soldiers. They revolt against restraint, and if punished 
 for any offence against discipline they desert, and once 
 in their dense forests they are hard to find. They stand 
 being shot at well when behind stockaded defences, but they 
 dishke leaving them, even though a favourable opportunity 
 presents itself, when they might easily inflict great loss upon 
 their enemy. They are by nature woodmen, carpenters, 
 and wood-carvers. With the dah — the sword of the country 
 — which no Burman then went without, they can erect stock- 
 ades and construct entanglements quicker than other 
 forest races. The quantities of bamboo with which the 
 country abounds, help him in the construction of these 
 quickly devised and cleverly-made defences, to which he 
 clings in action. His leaders throughout all our Burmese 
 wars have failed Mm. They invariably preferred to Hve to 
 fight another day rather than expose themselves. It seems as 
 if they thought the privates alone should be exposed to 
 serious danger, and generally they got safely away early in 
 most fights. The soldier we encountered everywhere in 
 action was a manly and independent fellow. His clothing 
 is simple, and consists merely of a small pugree twisted 
 through his long hair, a short cotton jacket, and a cloth 
 wrapped round his loins and thighs, the long ends of which 
 usually hang down from his waist in folds before him. His 
 weapon is the dah, or native hiltless sword, and any sort of 
 old musket. A cloth fastened round him contains his rice, 
 and the pot to boil it in is usually slung to the barrel of his Hi- 
 kept firelock, together with the mat which forms his bed. A 
 few bananas and a little native tobacco constitute his luxuries. 
 The difference between the men at Rangoon and those 
 we had left behind us on the Hooghley was very marked, 
 
 39 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 but that between the women struck us all as greater still. 
 The poor little timid cringing female of Bengal was a 
 miserable creature when alongside of the weU-built, muscu- 
 
 ar-looking and much lighter-coloured Burmese women. 
 
 The former only seemed to exist in two conditions : she 
 was either a very beautifully-shaped child, or a repulsive- 
 looking old hag. Elephantiasis, so common amongst the 
 women on the Hooghley, I never saw in Burmah. To catch 
 sight of the Hindoo girl's face was no easy matter, for she 
 fled at your approach ; or, if surprised by meeting you 
 as she came round the corner of a street, the white cotton 
 shawl that covered her head was suddenly jerked over her 
 face as she turned it to the wall until you had passed. 
 
 How different were the Burmese women ! You met them 
 everywhere, and you heard their laughter before you did 
 so. Strong and upstanding, they looked you straight in 
 the face with none of the diffident and frightened cringing 
 air of the Hindoo. With roses gracefully entwined in their 
 hair, and with a great green cheroot between their lips, or 
 stuck into the large hole always made in the lobe of each 
 ear, they march gracefully along, displaying at each step 
 their well-shaped legs. They evidently criticized you in 
 passing, for upon some remark from one of the party, there 
 was often a hearty chorus of pleasant laughter, in which, 
 however, there was not the faintest tone of insolence. It 
 was a good-natured laugh, made probably at your expense, 
 but made and enjoyed in no angry or inhospitable spirit. 
 Apparently weU fed, they took life lightly, with none of that 
 depressing seriousness which seemed to characterize the 
 Bengalese women I had seen during my short stay at Chin- 
 sura and my wanderings in that neighbourhood. 
 
 The war was apparently over, and I seemed destined to 
 
 40 
 
LIFE IN RANGOON 
 
 see no fighting in that country of teak forests and pagodas. 
 I longed to get to Prome, where the regiment was that I 
 belonged to, but as yet had never seen, as on the frontier 
 there I thought I might have some chance of seeing even 
 an outpost skirmish. The dull monotonous and what 
 seemed to me useless life I led at Rangoon lacked every 
 element of the soldiering to which I had always looked 
 forward. I had practically nothing to do beyond learning 
 my company drill for a couple of hours in the early morning. 
 The officers I lived with were neither well read, interesting 
 nor amusing. Old Captain Duperier, who had risen from 
 the ranks and had been many years in the Shah of Persia's 
 service, was my only resource, as he told me of countries 
 and cities I knew nothing of. But my chief occupation 
 was long solitary rides on an excellent Burman pony, 
 and this enabled me to enjoy the beautiful woodland and 
 lake scenery near Rangoon. I added largely to my 
 sketch-book, and made a good military survey of the 
 Burmese defences of the place, adding minute particulars 
 and details of their well-designed and admirably-con- 
 structed stockades. Out of the five or six officers of the 
 8oth Regiment then in Rangoon, I think I was the only 
 one who even kept a pony or ever — as far as I knew — went 
 beyond the precincts of what I may call our cantonments. 
 I had been nearly a year in the Army and had done 
 nothing. This oppressed me, for I was vain enough 
 to think that if I could only have a chance I should 
 make something of it. The world was still before me, 
 but my prospects were far from encouraging. I was 
 eaten up by an inward fire of ambition — selfish and 
 personal perhaps — an intense longing for active service in 
 the field which filled my thoughts all through life until the 
 
 41 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 sun rose on the morning of June 4, 1893, to remind me that 
 I was sixty years old. And let me here confess what I have 
 never told any one. I have often been asked by foolish 
 people if I never felt nervous when in danger. I don't 
 think that many men when in action have time to be nervous, 
 or at least to analyse what is the real condition of their 
 feelings on the point. But I often thought to myself before 
 the bullets began to whistle near one, whether I should be 
 killed or not that day. I can honestly say the one dread I 
 had — and it ate into my soul — was that if killed I should 
 die without having made the name for myself which I 
 always hoped a kind and merciful God might permit me to 
 win. All through my life — sinner though I have been — I 
 trusted implicity in God's providence, I believed He watched 
 specially over me and intended me for some important 
 work. My numerous hair-breadth escapes in action con- 
 firmed me aU the more in what perhaps others may deem 
 my presumptuous belief. But though it may have been 
 presumptuous, still there it was to support me through 
 many trials and to cheer me on to fresh efforts. 
 
 However, something good was in store for me, though it 
 was brought -about by a sad and a disgraceful disaster, and 
 if it afforded me my first chance in life, it also entailed upon 
 me a very severe wound from which I have suffered heavily 
 ever since. 
 
 News suddenly reached us that we had met with a serious 
 repulse at Donnabew, in which Captain Lock, C.B., of 
 H.M.S. Winchester and many others had been killed, our 
 guns taken, and the remainder of the party had escaped with 
 difficulty. The first accounts we received magnified the 
 disaster, but although on a small scale, as was the whole 
 war, it struck us all with astonishment and horror. 
 
 42 
 
DISASTER AT DONNABEW 1853 
 
 The older officers who had had experience in war shook 
 their heads and said the misfortune was the result of allow- 
 ing a naval officer to try his hand at soldier's work, of which 
 he knew nothing. Much as from chUdhood I had always 
 admired the Navy and its great achievements, the more we 
 subsequently learned of the details the more I felt the truth 
 of this military view of the affair. 
 
 In the first Burmese War the chief at Donnabew had 
 given us much trouble, and history now repeated itself. 
 A powerful chief — we called him a robber-chief — named 
 Meeah-Toon, wlio ruled there, had made himself very 
 troublesome by attacking, and often capturing, our native 
 boats employed in carrying supplies and stores between 
 Rangoon and Prome. We said he was a pirate, but his 
 countrymen looked upon him as a national hero. At any 
 rate, he had shown more daring and determination than any 
 other of the Burmese King's generals, and seemed determined 
 to dispute our right to interfere with him. Since our 
 arrival, he had pillaged the country almost to witliin sight 
 of Rangoon, and trusting to the strong position he occupied 
 about twenty- five miles inland from the river, he defied us. 
 His village was surrounded by a dense and pestilential 
 jungle, and all round it the country was cut up by creeks 
 communicating with the Irrewaddy, and by wet nullahs lead- 
 ing from them. He was strongly fortified, and it was in 
 every way just the sort of position most difficult for a 
 British force to deal with. It was not the enemy's soldiers 
 we had to dread, but cholera, from which even in the best 
 stations there we had already suffered much. Some 
 plucky attacks had been made upon him by boats from our 
 fleet, which tried to work up the bigger creeks and back- 
 waters with which his district abounded. Bat all these 
 
 43 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 attempts were repulsed, as the sailors found it impossible 
 to remove the great trees which had been cleverly cut down 
 on the banks of these creeks so as to fall into them, or to 
 get past the teak piles and heavy stakes driven well home 
 into their soft muddy bottoms. 
 
 The result was, this prince of dacoits soon began to think 
 his position impregnable and his countrymen far and near 
 to believe that he was too strong for us. Our position in 
 Burmah demanded that there should be no doubt on this 
 point in the native mind, so, early in February, 1853, it was 
 resolved to make a more determined effort to bring him to 
 reason. I think General Godwin was to blame for not 
 taking the matter entirely into his own hands, but appar- 
 ently still under the impression that the object could be 
 best secured by a boat expedition, he left it to the Navy. 
 It should have been a land operation, planned and led by a 
 military officer, the boats co-operating as best they could. 
 
 Captain Lock, C.B., of H.M.S. Winchester, then lying at 
 Rangoon, was ordered to make another boat attempt 
 against Meeah-Toon with some 240 seamen and marines, 
 whilst 300 of the 67th Bengal Native Infantry co-operated 
 with them on land. Captain Lock's reputation stood high 
 as an able naval officer and the most gallant and dashing of 
 men. He took with him two small bronze guns on field 
 carriages and some rocket tubes. He soon found he could 
 not force his way to Meeah-Toon's town by any of the creeks, 
 as all were blocked with trees and piles as before. Where- 
 upon he unwisely determined to land his men, and leaving 
 his boats behind to march the twenty-five miles which 
 were supposed to lie between the Irrewaddy and the point 
 aimed at. This at once converted the affair into a land 
 operation, and the naval captain should have placed himself 
 
 44 
 
DISASTER AT DONNABEW 1853 
 
 under the orders of the officer commanding the native 
 regiment. This he did not do, but on February 3, 1853, 
 recklessly pushed forward along a very narrow track through 
 the dense jungle before him without adopting any of the 
 simplest military precautions that are essential for safety, 
 or even to avoid surprise. The colonel of the sepoy regi- 
 ment was a man with not enough self-assertion to insist 
 upon assuming command, but it was said, and generally 
 believed, that he did venture to remonstrate with Captain 
 Lock upon the foolish rashness of his proceedings. Report 
 at the time said, and I can only write what was then believed 
 and left uncontradicted, that Captain Lock pooh-poohed 
 the colonel, and vowed that he did not want him or his men, 
 and that his own bluejackets and marines were quite able 
 to do the job alone. If this were so, it was fortunate for all 
 concerned^ that the snubbed colonel resolved to foUow in 
 the rear, for when this rashly-led body of sailors was sur- 
 prised, many being shot down, and a regular stampede had 
 begun, it was only the steadiness and mihtary training of 
 the sepoys, under their own officers, that preserved Captain 
 Lock's party from annihilation. The more I learned subse- 
 quently as to what took place, the more evident it became 
 that this disaster was occasioned by Captain Lock's ignorance 
 of mihtary tactics and of the precautions to be taken 
 when marching through a strange forest occupied by an 
 enemy. I prefer to draw a veil over all that followed, but 
 in the confusion of a hurried retreat, the guns, rocket tubes, 
 ammunition, and even the dead, were abandoned to the 
 enemy, and the gallant sailor who commanded died of his 
 wounds a few days afterwards. The loss was thirteen killed 
 and seventy-nine wounded. The enemy followed and 
 harassed the retreating party nearly as far as Donnabew, 
 
 45 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 and more than once they tried to head the party to cut it 
 off ; it was only the disciphned steadiness of the native 
 infantry which then saved the position. My own experi- 
 ence makes me feel that the stem and excellent discipline 
 on board ship is not always so trustworthy when sailors are 
 converted into infantry soldiers ashore. They do exceed- 
 ingly well as artillerymen in charge of guns ashore, as we 
 have recent cause to acknowledge with gratitude. 
 
 Poor Captain Lock, the gallant saUor who with his life 
 paid the penalty of his rashness on land, was buried with 
 military honours at Rangoon, all officers of the garrison 
 attending the funeral. It was an imposing ceremony, and 
 we felt that the Queen had lost an able and daring sailor 
 who, on his own element, was second to none. There was, 
 however, a strong feeling amongst the soldiers that the 
 many lives lost, and the indignity of such a repulse, were 
 entirely due to the rashness of the brave but inexperienced 
 leader. 
 
 I remember well the order which General Godwin issued 
 upon the occasion, and how thoroughly it was appreciated. 
 In it, he directed the senior military ofl&cer to assume chief 
 command in aU mixed expeditions on shore, no matter 
 what might be the rank or position of the naval of&cer on 
 the spot. He added that, " he justifies this arrangement 
 by reference to the fact that when troops are serving on 
 board ship, the senior naval officer takes command over all 
 the military ofhcers with the force." It is, however, probable 
 that if taught and drilled as foot soldiers, that very process 
 might prevent them from being the splendid fellows they 
 are on board ship, or when used as gunners ashore. Soldiers, 
 in the same way, would make very bad sailors. Admiral 
 Sir William Hewitt, who accompanied me to Koomassee 
 
 46 
 
NAVAL BRIGADE ASHORE 
 
 with a battalion of sailors, was a friend for whom I had the 
 warmest affection, and as a wise and dashing sailor the 
 greatest admiration. He said to me when he had got back 
 to Cape Coast Castle, " Never again wUl anything induce 
 me to land bluejackets to act as infantry. I will always 
 give you as many as you want to fight guns as artillerymen, 
 but never again as foot soldiers." Such was the result of 
 his experience in Ashantee. 
 
 I have such an intense admiration for the Navy, for the 
 splendid daring and courage of all belonging to it when upon 
 their own element that I dislike hinting any fault with 
 either its officers or seamen upon any point. But I wish 
 to leave on record, as a warning to those who come after me, 
 the deliberate opinion of the able and experienced Admiral 
 Sir William Hewitt which I have given here. He had 
 served with distinction in the Naval Brigade before Sebas- 
 topol and was always to the fore in our many fights and 
 skirmishes between the River Prah and Koomassee, and 
 saw what sailors could and could not do ashore when used 
 as foot soldiers. 
 
 47 
 
CHAPTER III 
 
 Expedition to Donnabew — Lead a Storming 
 Party — Badly Wounded — Sent Home 1853. 
 
 AS soon as the news of this untoward event reached Army 
 Head Quarters in Prome, the general commanding 
 the army in Burmah issued orders for the despatch to 
 Donnabew of a force consisting of the undermentioned 
 detachments : — 
 
 A small party of irregular cavalry. 
 200 of the Royal Irish Regiment. 
 200 of the King's Own Light Infantry, 
 200 of the 4th Sikhs. 
 The 67th Bengal Native Infantry. 
 Detachments of the Madras Sappers. 
 Detachments of the Madras and Bengal Artillery, with 
 one i2-pounder howitzer, some rocket tubes and two 
 Cohorn mortars. 
 These troops from Prome were to be joined by the 130 
 recruits of the South Staffordshire Regiment from Rangoon, 
 who had lately arrived from England. 
 
 Brigadier-General Sir John Cheap, of the Bengal Engin- 
 eers, was selected for the command of this force. It was 
 small, but in the absence of roads through the forest country 
 to be traversed, it would have been difficult to have fed a 
 
 48 
 
lit 
 w 
 
 PI 
 
 n 
 
 
 ^1 A H 
 
 if Si III 
 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 49 
 
EXPEDITION TO DONNABEW 
 
 larger body of men at any considerable distance from the 
 river. 
 
 When the news from Prorae told us that a new expedition 
 to Donnabew was being organized, I felt all the more how 
 hard was my fate in being kept at Rangoon. My spirits 
 sank and I seemed to be eating my heart away. 
 
 As soon as our very modest dinner was over, I usually 
 took a chair into the open in front of our hot barracks, and 
 there, alone with a big cigar, I listened to the band of the 
 Bengal Fusiliers as it played at tattoo. Towards the end of 
 February, I forget the exact date, I was thus engaged when 
 I saw a native with a lanthorn approach, and behind him 
 the tall figure of our brigade major, " handsome Bob 
 Hawkes," a great favourite, and then a well-known man in 
 India. He asked for the commanding officer, so I jimiped 
 up and brought Captain Duperier to him, feeling sure there 
 was something in the wind. In a few minutes it became 
 generally known that orders had been just received for the 
 detachment of the 8oth recruits to proceed forthwith to 
 Donnabew to join Sir John Cheap's force, which as yet had 
 accompUshed nothing there. In the midst of my intense 
 joy, however, the horrible thought occurred to me that as 
 the junior ensign it was likely I should be left to take charge 
 of the " details," whom one is always obliged to leave behind 
 upon such occasions. The very thought of such a possi- 
 bility almost maddened me. But as my commanding officer 
 wanted to take me, he told off the senior ensign for this 
 duty, and my mind was at rest upon that point. 
 
 We had few preparations to make. It was upon this 
 expedition that I for the first time saw British officers wear 
 flannel instead of linen or cotton shirts, and it was the first 
 time I ever wore one. In every other respect, our clothing 
 
 51 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 was entirely unsuited for campaigning in a tropical climate. 
 The Queen's Army took an idiotic pride in dressing in India 
 as nearly as possible in the same clothing they wore at home. 
 Upon this occasion, the only difference was in the trousers, 
 which were of ordinary Indian drUl dyed blue, and that round 
 our regulation forage cap we wore a few yards of puggaree 
 of a similar colour. We wore our ordinary cloth shell 
 jackets buttoned up to the chin, and the usual white buck- 
 skin gloves. Could any costume short of steel armour be 
 more absurd in such a latitude ? The officers of the East 
 India Company were sensibly dressed in good helmets with 
 ample turbans round them, and in loose jackets of cotton 
 drill. As a great relaxation of the Queen's regulations, our 
 men were told they need not wear their great stiff leathern 
 stocks. This was a relief to the young recruits, but most of 
 the old soldiers clung to theirs, asserting that the stock pro- 
 tected the back of the neck against the sun, and kept them 
 cool. I assume it was rather the force of habit that made 
 them think so. 
 
 We left Rangoon the first week in March 1853 in a river 
 steamer with a flat in tow. All ranks were extremely crowded 
 and uncomfortable, which made us feel all the more keenly 
 the great thunderstorm that overtook us the evening of our 
 departure. I had never seen its like before. Our anchors 
 dragged in the soft mud of the Irrewaddy, and we were 
 nearly driven ashore upon the right bank. So vivid was 
 the lightning that at each flash we could see the leaves of 
 the jungle trees which stretched down to near the river's 
 edge as they bent before this tornado. The heaviest tropical 
 rain followed, and when it stopped an invasion of the largest 
 and most muscular mosquitos I have ever encountered 
 rendered all chance of sleep impossible. The men, who were 
 
 52 
 
ON THE IRREWADDY 
 
 so crowded and packed as to have little lying-down space, 
 suffered greatly, and I felt a brute at being better off in this 
 respect than they were. Everything comes to an end, and 
 the horrors of that night were no exception. 
 
 From Rangoon we had about eighty or ninety miles to go 
 up the Irrewaddy in a north-westerly direction against a 
 strong current, and when the tide was ebbing we made little 
 way against it . As we neared our destination we passed more 
 than one raft with a bamboo frame fixed vertically upon it 
 bearing the crucified body of some poor devil whom Meeah- 
 Toon was supposed to have thus put to death. The legs and 
 arms were stretched so as to form a sort of X, or St. Andrew's 
 Cross. Horrible sights these were, and not calculated to 
 raise the robber-chief in our estimation. 
 
 We landed at Donnabew in the afternoon of March 6, 
 near a fine poongey house with a very elaborately carved 
 roof. We found Sir John Cheap's force awaiting our 
 arrival, and were informed that it was to start the next 
 day. We moved a little up the river to bivouac for the 
 night. 
 
 We were soon all in the water cooling and washing our 
 heated and dirty bodies in the Irrewaddy. I was drying 
 myself on the bank when I heard a shout that a man had 
 sunk. He could not swim, and had gone out too far to 
 where the bank suddenly shelved down steeply. He never 
 rose again, and although helped by several men who swam 
 as weU as I did, we could not find him. The water was so 
 thick with mud that nothing could be seen when you dived. 
 This delayed me a long time, as one does not like giving up 
 the search, even after reason declares it hopeless, when up 
 came Major, now General, Sir Harry Holdich, and began 
 pitching into me for this unfortunate occurrence. As I felt 
 
 53 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 that I deserved more praise than blame for my part in the 
 affair, I was very much hurt and thought I should never 
 like my new commanding officer, who had only just arrived 
 and taken over command of the recruits I was serving with. 
 
 Before long Holdich, who was a thoroughly good fellow and 
 a very plucky soldier, having ascertained the facts (not from 
 me, however, for I was far too proud and too angry to teU 
 him what had taken place), came to me and with the gener- 
 ous frankness which always distinguished him, told me he 
 had made a mistake and was sorry for it. He had seen a 
 great deal of service as A.D.C. to his uncle. Sir Hany Smith, 
 and had been badly wounded at Sobraon. He was, for 
 those days, a very young brevet-major, and I felt it a great 
 pleasure and honour to serve under one who had seen so 
 much hard fighting, both at the Cape and in India. He 
 used afterwards to tell me interesting stories of his many 
 fighting adventures, though his modesty made it somewhat 
 difficult to draw these from him. 
 
 We started the following day, March 7, 1853, about 2 p.m., 
 having only, as we were told, about twenty-five miles 
 between us and the enemy's stronghold. But as far as we 
 regimental officers could judge, the information we obtained 
 about the country and the enemy's doings was seldom worth 
 much. Sir John Cheap was, I think, badly served by the 
 civn commissioner sent with him, upon whom he had to 
 depend for all news of the enemy. One would have thought 
 that if experience had ever proved anything, or had taught 
 any useful lesson, it was a condemnation of the old practice 
 of sending a civilian into the field to control or influence the 
 movements of an army. It had been discredited with us 
 since Great Marlborough's wars against the armies of 
 France, but in some form or other it had been continued 
 
 54 
 
EXPEDITION TO DONNABEW 1853 
 
 by the East India Company. Upon this commissioner 
 devolved the duty of collecting intelligence regarding the 
 enemy's doings, his whereabouts and intentions, and also — 
 as a rule — the responsibility of supplying the guides required 
 for each column of troops. Those obtained during this 
 expedition were bad, and often misled us — as I believe — 
 through ignorance of what we wanted. I don't think they 
 misled us from any patriotic motive, but at times from fear 
 of subsequent punishment by their own people. This was 
 a serious matter in a dense and unmapped jungle, whose 
 straggling roads, or rather paths, wound about with no 
 apparent reason for such a constant change of direction. 
 The general course of our march was at a right angle from 
 the river into the great jungle close at hand. Some shots 
 were fired as the main body entered the forest by a rough 
 country wheel-track. The day was extremely hot and the 
 marching heavy, but these shots were a kind of pick-me-up to 
 all of us boys, and at once officer and private took an increased 
 interest in the affair. Some of the enemy's scouts and 
 skirmishers were here and there to be seen, and now and 
 then a puff of smoke and the whiz of a buUet, generally 
 fired high, assured us we had an enemy in front. The 
 recruits I was with spread out into a sort of skirmishing 
 line, but as few of these had ever before fired a round with 
 Brown Bess, or, as far as I knew, had ever fired any sort of 
 gun in their lives, the fire we opened may possibly have had 
 some moral effect, but could not certainly have inflicted 
 any serious loss upon the enemy. Advancing across an 
 open space I saw a man killed for the first time in my 
 life. I was not at the moment in the least excited, and it 
 gave me an unpleasant sensation. He was a Burman, and 
 he was killed by Beauchamp Seymour, who having been 
 
 55 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 just made a commander, had joined us upon landing as a 
 volunteer to " see the fun." Being then very young, I 
 looked upon him as quite a middle-aged man, and when 
 years afterwards I came to know him well I often reminded 
 him of that skirmish. We pushed on slowly along a jungle 
 cart-track, and about five or six o'clock in the evening, 
 after a good deal of firing " in front," we halted upon an 
 unfordable creek. We had taken with us some twenty or 
 thirty large casks and enough bridge superstructure to 
 make a large raft with them. By the time my detachment 
 had reached the creek, the Madras Sappers, the best of all 
 military workmen, had already unloaded the casks and 
 were busy in the construction of a raft. 
 
 My detachment halted for the night in the jungle about 
 four or five hundred yards from the creek in front, and we 
 all began our preparations for a bivouac. Fires were lit, 
 and preparations made for an evening meal. The wood in 
 a jungle does not burn well, but it is very easy to collect 
 sufficient dead stuff for cooking purposes. 
 
 The enemy continued to annoy our sappers from the 
 jungle beyond the creek. Many of the enemy fired from 
 high trees, up which they had evidently climbed to obtain 
 a clear view. It was at last deemed necessary to bring up 
 a rocket tube to see how they would stand its alarming noise 
 
 Being idle and not having yet had a really good oppor- 
 tunity of experiencing what was the sensation of being under 
 fire, I felt a longing to go down to where the sappers were 
 working. I was drawn there by an irresistible attraction 
 I cannot describe, but was ashamed to confess this to my 
 companions. Watching an opportunity, I stroUed as if 
 indifferently away from our bivouac, and quickly reached 
 the bridging party I was in search of. A steep descent led 
 
 56 
 
UNDER FIRE 1853 
 
 to the creek from the jungle-covered plateau where we had 
 halted, and I soon became entangled amidst a crowd of 
 native carts laden with bridging materials. Large numbers 
 of draft oxen were munching their corn amongst the carts, 
 and the whole scene was full of life and picturesque interest. 
 There was a good deal of firing from the enemy's side of the 
 creek about 150 yards off, and I heard what I had come in 
 search of, the whiz of bullets as they flew past me, and 
 plunged into the neighbouring trees. I was near the point 
 where the road began to dip abruptly into the valley below, 
 when a loud splashing and somewhat diabolical fizzing 
 scream in the low scrub close by made me turn to see what 
 it meant. It was our first rocket going off, but amidst the 
 interest it aroused I became suddenly aware of a great 
 stampede of the cart bullocks straight towards the spot 
 where I was. I saw in an instant that my one chance of 
 safety was to get behind the nearest cart before they reached 
 me, and I rushed there in all haste. The Royal Irish were 
 on baggage guard, and an old soldier, seeing my rush and 
 my excitement, and not seeing the bullocks, naturally put 
 it down to the effect the enemy's dropping fire had upon 
 me. In the best natured, but still in a somewhat patroniz- 
 mg tone, as from an old to a young soldier, he said, " Never 
 mind, sir, you will soon become accustomed to it." On the 
 spur of the moment I could have killed that man with 
 satisfaction. That any one, especially a private soldier, 
 should doubt my nerve, let me say should in fact attribute 
 fear of bullets to me, was simply maddening. But what 
 could I do ? He was as cool as possible, and I was far from 
 being so ; indeed this inferred insinuation had aroused the 
 worst feelings within me. I had gone there to test my 
 nerve, to see how I should stand being under fire and what 
 
 57 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 effect it would have upon me, but I did not bargain for such 
 a trial as this to my temper, and stOl more to my vanity. 
 I tried to hide my anger and to look pleased, and even 
 answered blandly, though my heart was on fire. By at 
 once taking up an exposed position to observe from, I 
 hoped in my rage to make this old devil of a soldier and 
 those about him realize that although I was young and 
 smooth of face I was as plucky as they were. I made my 
 way back to my bivouac much crestfallen, but not until I 
 had taken in well the manner in which the barrel rafts were 
 put together. I drew sketches of the lashings that fastened 
 the barrels to the superstructure ; and longed to help the 
 officer in charge of the work. Although I had never gone 
 through any engineering course, I had a good book know- 
 ledge of military bridging which I had learnt from the 
 pages of Straith's Fortification, etc., a capital work which I 
 knew thoroughly well. I had copied its plans and drunk in 
 its letterpress with quite as deep an interest as most boys of 
 my age read Scott's novels. 
 
 The first question I usually asked my friend. Sergeant 
 Quinn, every morning as I yawned and stretched myself 
 when I heard the order to " fall in," was, who had died of 
 cholera during the night, and who was then dying. It was 
 a terrible thing at times to be left behind with a dying man, 
 to bury him the moment he had ceased to breathe, and to 
 watch the horrid vultures which from the neighbouring 
 trees scanned us closely, whilst waiting for their prey. They 
 picked a body to pieces in very short time. They never 
 left us, but followed us daily on the march, not as guardian 
 angels, but as loathsome scavengers. - In aU Eastern war 
 they seem to scent from afar the carrion they live upon. 
 I had at this time a very fine-looking soldier servant who 
 
 58 
 
CHOLERA ON THE MARCH 
 
 had been previously in the 3rd Dragoon Guards. He had 
 asked me to draw on his arm the Prince of Wales' Feathers, 
 the badge of that regiment, so that he might have it tattooed 
 there. The Burmese are very clever at that art, and the 
 device was well done by a skilled tattooer. He was very 
 proud of it, and I had thus impressed upon me early in my 
 career how deep is the affection men retain for their first 
 love, the regiment in which they first serve. This poor 
 feUow died of cholera, and I helped to bury him in a very 
 shallow grave. How many such gallant British soldiers 
 lie thus buried all over the world, marking the routes of the 
 armies that have made our Empire what it is. These men 
 die that England should be great, and.they die for her with- 
 out a murmur, and yet, it is their valour and their self- 
 sacrifice that enables home tradesmen to make fortunes, 
 live at ease, and to marry their sons and daughters into 
 gentle famihes. 
 
 I shall not attempt to record our daily proceedings. We 
 suffered much from bad or dishonest guides, and so occa- 
 sionally lost our way in the dense jungle. We had frequent 
 little skirmishes with the enemy, who showed their ignorance 
 of war by not inflicting serious loss upon us. It often occurred 
 to me with what ease I could have destroyed my column 
 had I been in command of the enemy. We had at one 
 time to remain halted for five days on a filthy wet nullah 
 waiting for supplies, of which we began to run out. The 
 evening we reached this nullah we aU bathed in it, and when 
 swimming and enjoying its muddy waters after a very hot 
 march my companion suddenly came upon a dead body 
 floating in it. This was the water we drank for the five 
 days we were halted there ! Is it to be wondered at that 
 we suffered from cholera ? We had there one pretty little 
 
 59 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 afternoon with the enemy, in the course of which we took 
 some pits they had dug to fire from upon our bivouac. 
 During the skirmish we killed a couple of their black water- 
 buffaloes which gave all the detachment a good meal of 
 fresh beef. It was very tough, but it was a great change 
 after that salt red navy-junk upon which, until then, we 
 had lived during the expedition. 
 
 On March 17 we resumed our march, and the Royal Irish 
 Regiment celebrated their Saint's Day by the brilliant 
 capture of an entrenched position, in which they had an 
 officer killed. 
 
 Upon the evening of March 18, we had scarcely settled 
 down into our bivouac in the dense jungle through which 
 our route lay, when a thick fog fell upon us. We knew we 
 were close to the enemy, for all through the night we could 
 hear their voices and the noise of their dahs as they cut and 
 hacked in adding to the stockade which surrounded Meeah- 
 Toon's village and final position. We were certain that 
 every effort had been made to strengthen it, and with their 
 known skill at such work we felt it would be a hard nut to 
 crack. Camp rumour told us that a wet nullah lay in its 
 front, but the belief that in taking it we should also take 
 the great chief's village and so wipe out the disgrace of 
 Lock's disaster, made us hope it would be a happy, perhaps 
 a glorious end to the expedition. Cholera still pursued us, 
 food was bad and scarce, and owing to the thickness of the 
 jungle and the consequent restricted nature of our nightly 
 bivouacs, few ever had a really good night's rest. Speaking 
 from my own experience, I was so constantly on picket that 
 my sleep was mostly obtained in the early mornings during 
 the intervals between dawn and the beginning of the day's 
 march, and during all the short halts occasioned on the march 
 
 60 
 
WITH THE ADVANCED GUARD 
 
 by some stoppage in front. It seemed to me that I was on 
 outlying picket on most nights during the expedition, when 
 I did not dare even to he down lest tired nature should give 
 way and sleep seize upon me. In many ways I enjoyed this 
 picket work, for I thoroughly understood its theory and 
 was rapidly learning its practice. But what pleased me 
 most about it was the feeling of responsibility it conferred. 
 I flattered myself with the belief that upon my exertions 
 then, and upon the way in which I carried out my duty, 
 depended the safety of our bivouac and perhaps of the whole 
 enterprise. This filled me with pride, and young ensign 
 though I was, it flattered my self-consciousness. But the 
 result of this night-work was, that during the subsequent 
 day's march I occasionally fell asleep for an instant of time 
 as I walked, and was as suddenly awakened to consciousness 
 by a bad stumble when for a moment I had some difficulty 
 in keeping erect. Most ofhcers know what it is to be asleep 
 on horseback when on the line of march. When upon a 
 steady horse, with elbows well planted on the holster-pipes, 
 one can thus have many a good five minutes' doze. But 
 who that has ever slept under those conditions does not 
 remember the neck-dislocating shock with which you 
 wake when on the point of quitting your saddle and of 
 parting company altogether with the animal that carries 
 it ! And so also was the shock I experienced many a time 
 during these marches on foot, when I woke in the act of 
 faUing, only saving myself with difficulty from an ugly 
 tumble. 
 
 It was the turn of the 8oth Regiment to find the advanced 
 guard the following morning — March 19— and as I was not 
 to be on picket that night, I was told off to command 
 the advanced party when the march began. I was in the 
 
 61 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 seventh heaven of delight at this prospect. We knew we 
 shovild have fighting, and most probably end the expedition 
 by the storming of the chief's great stronghold. As I lay 
 down to sleep in my cloak that night I prayed earnestly to 
 God for His protection and that He should be with me in all 
 I did the following day. Soon after dark the usual heavy 
 fog fell upon us and I was quickly fast asleep, too soundly 
 for any thought. Never throughout my life have I been the 
 dreamer of dreams whilst asleep. I suppose a healthy good 
 digestion enabled me to sleep too profoundly for any thoughts 
 or nightmares when once death's image had embraced me 
 either by day or night. 
 
 Upon the first streak of light I was on my feet. The 
 heavy fog still surrounded us, and we could not see a hundred 
 yards either backwards or forwards along the jungle path 
 upon whose sides we had bivouacked. The only sound in the 
 air was the cutting and chopping of wood in the enemy's 
 direction, whence also came at times the noise of voices as 
 if of orders given. After the usual poor breakfast and the 
 most meagre of toilets, I was ready " for the road." I 
 don't think we formed up and moved off untU about 7 a.m., 
 when the sun had somewhat lightened the fog. What is 
 now commonly caUed the " point of the advanced guard " 
 consisted of four privates and myself. None of us were 
 twenty years of age, and all were recruits. I knew theoreti- 
 cally the duties of an advanced guard, but had no experience, 
 nor had I ever been drilled in the practice of such duties. 
 Indeed I knew very little of any sort of drill. We moved 
 in the strictest silence along a track with dense jungle on 
 either side, catching now and again a passing view of a nullah 
 that ran parallel to it about twenty-five yards on our right. 
 We occasionally reached a spot where the enemy had recently 
 
 62 
 
MEEAH-TOON'S POSITION 
 
 had a fire. The Burmese were not an enterprising foe, and 
 never worried us at night, though without doubt they con- 
 stantly worked round our flanks and rear in small scouting 
 parties through the jungle or along paths known only to 
 them. But during this advance, although we could dis- 
 tinctly hear them chopping and felling trees, we saw nothing 
 of them until after an hour's extremely slow marching, with 
 constant halts, we reached a point where the path turned 
 suddenly at right angles to the left. There the wet nullah 
 we had been following joined another and apparently a 
 larger stream, on the other side of which we could see the 
 enemy's stockade plainly, and within about a hundred 
 yards of us.^ They had apparently no pickets thrown out 
 to their front, and were consequently quite unconscious of 
 our close proximity. The absence of any path leading down 
 to the nullah near us proclaimed it to be unfordable. All 
 orders I received were brought to me by messengers from 
 the rear, and we now spoke only in whispers. We could 
 hear the enemy talking volubly on the other side of the 
 nuUah along which we now marched, for a fog seems to 
 carry sound with distinctness, and the constant noise of 
 chopping told us they were still hard at work upon their 
 stockades. As the fog lifted, by peering through the jungle 
 I could see their works along the other bank of the nullah, 
 which seemed to be about eighty yards from me. I was 
 ordered, as I turned to the left along the path by the newly- 
 discovered nullah, to move slowly and to be careful not to 
 show myself and to maintain strict silence. Major Holdich 
 came to me with these orders before we turned off to the 
 left, and he then went back to the main body. I felt very 
 
 * From subsequent measurements taken of it, we found that, 
 from right to left, it extended 400 yards. 
 
 63 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 much as if I were once more playing at hide and seek in 
 some plantation at home during evening twilight. 
 
 Our halts became more frequent, I suppose on account 
 of the difficulty in closing-up the rear of the column, where 
 our two guns and the native carts with the ammunition 
 were frequently in trouble. As the day grew brighter I 
 could see considerable numbers of Burmese on the far bank, 
 one or more being mounted and evidently men of importance. 
 My orders were to advance as far as I could without being 
 seen, and on no account to fire until fired upon. During 
 one of our many halts, when expecting every moment to 
 be discovered, I had one of these mounted Burman leaders 
 covered vnth a " Brown Bess " musket for some time, and 
 longed to loose-off at him. However, I fuUy realized the 
 importance of getting further up the nullah unperceived to 
 the point where I was told we should be able to cross it; 
 It struck me as immensely strange that an intelligent enemy 
 in their own jungle should allow us to march unperceived 
 along the front of their position, by a path running parallel 
 to it and within eighty or a hundred yards of their stockade. 
 It did not speak well for their warlike instincts or military 
 training. But the fact was, they had no idea we should 
 quit our bivouac in their neighbourhood until the sun had 
 risen high enough to clear off the dense fog which usually 
 hung all the morning over the jungle. I remember well dur- 
 ing one of our hundred-and-one halts, as I sat cross-legged 
 on my sword with my four boys lying down by me, all 
 keenly watching the enemy's proceedings beyond the nuUah, 
 how I wondered to myself if I should be killed or wounded 
 that day — a common thought to those whose minds are 
 unemployed upon such occasions. Being well in front, I 
 felt that I was at least bound to be in at the death. 
 
 64 
 
BENGAL NATIVE INFANTRY 
 
 As we advanced the nullah seemed to get somewhat 
 narrower, the water in it less deep, and its banks, especially 
 on our side, less steep. 
 
 At length the enemy became suddenly aware of our 
 presence, and opened fire upon us aU along their line. The 
 whiz of bullets and the sound of their thud into the stems 
 of trees about us at once added enlivenment to the position. 
 Their fire was too high, and it was not until we began to form 
 up to our right, facing the enemy, that I saw any one fall 
 near me, but before the place was taken aU the four boys 
 with whom I started in the morning were hit. The detach- 
 ments of British troops were now withdrawn into the jungle 
 and formed into line facing the enemy's works ; our two 
 guns, which had been far behind, were now brought up and 
 into action. The plot thickened, and the position became 
 exciting. I do not remember all the particulars of what 
 took place, indeed the jungle was so thick I could see little 
 beyond what was going on immediately round me. We 
 were ordered to advance at last, why or for what purpose 
 I know not, but the advance is well marked in my memory, 
 because we had to pass over a line of the 67th Bengal Native 
 Infantry, then lying down. They seemed in an abject funk, 
 and I believe could not be got on by their gallant officers. 
 As we passed over them, our men abused them in strong 
 terms, which they seemed in no way to resent. There was a 
 very fat soubadar lying prone with his head and body as 
 close to mother earth as his fat stomach would admit of, 
 where I crossed this line of sepoys. My knowledge of 
 Hindostani was then most limited, and as is generally the 
 case with men lately arrived in India, it consisted chiefly 
 of very coarse terms of abuse. These I freely hurled at 
 this cowardly native officer, whilst with all my might I 
 
 VOL. I. ,65 F 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 kicked the most protruding part of his body as I passed 
 over him. 
 
 About this time my chum, Lieutenant Wilkinson, of the 
 South Stafford, was shot through the arm, and his bone 
 badly smashed. I tied it up quickly, as best I could, with 
 the silk pocket-handkerchief I had been using as a sword 
 knot, but the wound was a very bad one. In the melee I 
 found myself for a little in the midst of a Sikh regiment. 
 What a brave lot they were ! and such a contrast to the 
 cowardly Hindostanees of the 67th Bengal Native Infantry 
 Regiment, who would do nothing, and who, like their native 
 of&cer I have mentioned, persisted in Ijning down on the 
 ground to avoid the bullets. This was the first time a bat- 
 talion of Sikhs under British officers had been in action, 
 and all were anxious to see what they would do. They 
 were an example of splendid daring to every one present. 
 It was then I saw their commanding officer, Major Arm- 
 strong, knocked over by a buUet that hit him at the top of 
 his forehead, which it smashed, and, to aU appearances, 
 lodged in his brain. It was a dreadful wound, but, strange 
 to say, it did not then kill him. 
 
 About this time, some one in authority, perhaps the 
 general, arrived on the scene, and it was discovered that 
 the nullah shallowed out and was quite dry to our left front 
 where the regular path to Meeah-Toon's village led across 
 it. The British detachments were by this time tolerably 
 well mixed up together without any order whatever, and 
 the noise of the firing made it difficult to hear anything or 
 make oneself heard. However, a storming party were called 
 for and that was just what I longed for. Another officer, 
 Lieutenant Allan Johnson — afterwards a very distinguished 
 man — also volunteered. Collecting as many men as possible, 
 
 66 
 
LEAD A STORMING PARTY. 
 
 we started down that narrow nullah path at a good fast 
 double, the two officers leading. The two naval guns, 
 abandoned unspiked by the navy in poor Captain Loch's 
 disaster, were firing as quickly as they could be fired down 
 the path, whilst the enemy thronged the stockade and firing 
 as quickly as they could load, shouted to us in Burmese 
 " Come on ! Come on." But we were doing well, the pace 
 was good and steady, and I soon realized there was no water 
 to be crossed along the path before us. Lieutenant AUan 
 Johnson and I cheered lustily as we charged, the men 
 behind doing so also — the noise was great. For the moment 
 I was in a heaven of ecstatic excitement when the ground 
 suddenly gave way under me, and owing to the pace I was 
 going at I fell with some violence four or five feet into a 
 trap-hole that had been cleverly covered over with brush- 
 wood and earth. I must have struck some stake in it, as 
 for the moment I was dazed, and more or less knocked out 
 of time. Quickly coming to myself, I jumped up — as was 
 natural — on the enemy's side of this frou-de-loup, but, 
 horror of horrors ! my storming party had melted away 
 and I found myself alone, whUst I was greeted with yells 
 from the enemy close at hand. The position was awkward, 
 but my mind was clear and prompted me to jump back at 
 once into the pit for shelter whilst I collected my stOl some- 
 what scattered senses. My thoughts as I lay in that irou- 
 de-loup, are not amongst my pleasant memories. Not 
 more than thirty yards from me the enemy were in large 
 numbers shouting and in the enjoyment of their momentary 
 victory calling out to us to " come on ! " Their fire became 
 brisk, and it struck me they delivered it in volleys. If I 
 remained where I was I felt that any Burmans sallying out 
 would have me at their mercy. I had dropped the pistol 
 
 67 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 a brother ensign had lent me before leaving our bivouac, 
 and a tailor-provided sword was my only weapon, I quickly 
 realized that, come what may, I must run back ; it was my 
 only chance. I have no idea of how many minutes I was 
 in that pit, but it seemed an age at the time, and long, long 
 ago though it be, and many as the tight places have been 
 in which I have since found myself, none recall such in- 
 delible, such disagreeable memories. The horror of having 
 to run for my life is still present with me as if these events 
 had occurred but an hour ago. Nothing is more burned 
 into my recollection than the dread of being shot in 
 the back, for run away I felt I must ; it was my only 
 chance, and not a minute was to be lost. I waited 
 until I thought the enemy had emptied most of their 
 muskets in a volley, and then jumping up, I ran as I never 
 ran before or since. Out of breath, I threw myself on the 
 ground amongst my comrades when I reached the line of 
 redcoats, with some little feeling of shame in my heart at 
 being thus seen in the act of running away. I ought to have 
 thanked God for my escape, but I was in the vilest of tempers, 
 for I felt the men behind me had not behaved well. Had 
 they pressed forward as they should have done when I was 
 caught in the trap, we should have taken the place in 
 another five minutes. But they were undrilled recruits, 
 and there were too few of us, and there was not enough 
 backing-up from behind. Had a formed company with its 
 officers been there, the whole thing would have been over 
 in a very few minutes, as I have already said. As for me, 
 I felt ashamed of myself and surprised at the conduct of the 
 boys who had failed to back me up as they should have 
 done. I thought this then, but don't think so now, for I 
 did not then know how to fire men around me with courage. 
 
 68 
 
LEAD A STORMING PARTY 
 
 Sir John Cheap and Major Reid, of the Bengal Artillery, 
 now came up, and our one howitzer and one g-pounder 
 gun were sent for. Fire was opened from them at very 
 short range, and I remember how much I admired the cool- 
 ness and indifference to the enemy's bullets displayed by 
 Lieutenant Magrath of the Madras Artillery and the others 
 who served them. ^ For each round, the gun was laid just as 
 it would have been at any ordinary target practice at home. 
 
 While this was going on, parties of the Royal Irish and 
 of the King's Own Light Infantry kept arriving, and the 
 remainder of the 8oth detachment joined those already 
 with me in front. All were, however, much mixed up, as 
 the jungle prevented any regular formation. Our shell fire, 
 it was thought, had made some impression, and tlie general 
 called for another storming party. Naturally, I jumped 
 up, saying I knew the way, having been over it before, and 
 a Lieutenant Taylor, of the Madras Native Infantry, who 
 was interpreter to the King's Own Light Infantry, said he 
 would go also. I had made his acquaintance the day before 
 to tell him I had in. my baggage a small parcel for him from 
 a cousin at home. I collected all the 8oth men I could, and 
 having warned Taylor of the trou-de-loup into which I 
 had fallen when leading the previous storming party, off 
 we started with a yeU, every one near us cheering lustily. 
 We all ran forward at a good pace under what seemed to be 
 a well-sustained fire from the enemy's works. I could see 
 a considerable number of them on the top of the parapet 
 or stockade, and above all the noise one heard their defiant 
 shouts of " Come on ! Come on ! " in the Burmese tongue. 
 What a supremely delightful moment it was ! No one in cold 
 
 ■■ That gallant Irishman is now a general, and I am proud ot 
 being still the friend of so brave a soldier. 
 
 69 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 blood can imagine how intense is the pleasure of such a 
 position who has not experienced it himself j there can be 
 nothing else in the world like it, or that can approach its 
 inspiration, its intense sense of pride. You are for the time 
 being, and it is always short, lifted up from and out of all 
 petty thoughts of self, and for the moment your whole 
 existence, soul and body, seems to revel in a true sense of 
 glory. The feeling is catching, it flies through a mob of 
 soldiers and makes them, whilst the fit is on them, absolutely 
 reckless of all consequences. The blood seems to boU, the 
 brain to be on fire. Oh ! that I could again hope to experi- 
 ence such sensations! I have won praise since then, and 
 commanded at what in our little Army we call battles, and 
 know what it is to gain the applause of soldiers ; but, in a 
 long and varied military life, although as a captain I have 
 led my own company in charging an enemy, I have never 
 experienced the same unalloyed and elevating satisfaction, 
 or known again the joy I then felt as I ran for the enemy's 
 stockades at the head of a small mob of soldiers, most of 
 them boys like myself. 
 
 We were getting on well when we reached the broken- 
 down trap-hole into which I had fallen an hour or so before. 
 Taylor went to its left, I to its right, and just a few paces 
 beyond it, I saw him tumble head over heels, and at a few 
 paces farther on, when running hard, I turned a somewhat 
 similar somersault. It was, I suppose, the pace I was going 
 at that caused me, as I fell heavily, to do this. In a second 
 I was sitting up, shot as I afterwards found by a large jingall 
 buUet through the upper part of my left thigh. I tried to 
 stop the bleeding with my left hand, and remember well 
 seeing the blood squirting in jets through the fingers of my 
 pipe-clayed gloves, I cheered and shouted, and waved 
 
 70 
 
BADLY WOUNDED 
 
 my sword, calling upon the men to go on. There was a 
 splendid fellow behind me, Sergeant Quinn, of the 8oth, 
 whom I have already mentioned. Seeing how badly I was 
 hit, he wanted to help me back. Any attempt to do so 
 would have been the end of at least that storming party, 
 so I shouted all the louder, " go on, go on," and this he did 
 in splendid style. In a few minutes he and those he led — 
 for he was then in command — had clambered up the roughly- 
 constructed stockade and the garrison bolted. Some more 
 men coming up from the rear carried poor Taylor and put 
 him beside me, where he bled to death. He too was shot 
 through the thigh, the bullet in his case cutting the femoral 
 artery. Mine was a remarkable escape. A doctor soon 
 arrived on the scene and put on a tourniquet, which hurt me, 
 but allowed me to be moved. I had lost blood heavily, 
 and was consequently extremely weak. I passed a bad 
 night through weakness and mosquitoes in a hut in Meeah- 
 Toon's village, and the following morning I was taken off 
 in a man-of-war's boat. Winding a devious passage down 
 a creek, we had to saw and cut away piles and other obstruc- 
 tions placed there by the enemy. More than once before 
 our boat reached the open river, the enemy's skirmishers 
 showed themselves, and appeared inclined to show fight. 
 A little skirmishing took place, and they finally cleared off. 
 I was at times left almost alone with a few other wounded, 
 and my helpless condition made me realize how easily the 
 enemy might cut our throats. The idea was unpleasant. 
 The lieutenant, or mate, who commanded the pinnace was 
 kindness itself to me, and gave me a complete change of 
 clothes, which was a real luxury. All the things I had on 
 were filthy and covered with blood, and I saw them thrown 
 overboard with much pleasure, 
 
 71 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 I was soon on board a flat towed by a steamer, but the 
 coupling was so contrived that you could step from one to 
 the other. All the wounded were placed on the deck round 
 its outer edges, and the doctors lived and messed in the 
 middle. Some few days were thus passed on the river 
 voyage to Prome. My chief recollection of it is of my 
 extreme weakness. The tourniquet round my thigh had 
 been slackened (oh! what a relief), but it was for some 
 weeks kept round the wounded limb so that the soldier 
 who was always close to me could screw it up in a moment, 
 should the artery, affected by the great sloughing of the 
 wound, suddenly burst. I frequently remained awake 
 most of the night, for once awake the smell from my own 
 wound, and from those of the men around me, was so 
 offensive that I could not get to sleep again. In those 
 days the doctors starved wounded men to keep down 
 inflammation, and I remember how hungry and greedy I 
 felt each day when the doctors, laughing and eating and 
 drinking in our midst, would not even let me have a piece 
 of roast chicken they were eating, and the smell of which 
 was so tantalizingly tempting. The big wounds like mine 
 were dressed twice a day, and a disgusting operation it was. 
 I shall not enter into details, but those who have been 
 wounded in temperate climates can know nothing of 
 what misery it was in those days to be wounded through 
 the body or through the thigh in an extremely hot country 
 like Lower Burmah. 
 
 The wounded were landed late in Prome, and in the dark 
 my dhooley-bearers fell. In my extreme prostration I felt 
 the shock much. The troops were being hutted, and I was 
 put into a little quarter that had been built for an officer. 
 The wounded rank and file were in large Indian double tents, 
 
 72 
 
SENT HOME 
 
 where at noon the thermometer sometimes registered 130° 
 Fahr. The most it ever rose to in my hut was, I think, 109°. 
 I had a bad time of it for some weeks, for a sort of cholera 
 seized upon me, and for days I hung between Ufe and death. 
 But it is difficult to kill a strong young fellow under twenty. 
 Oh ! how tiring to lie awake at night when prostrated with 
 weakness, mental and bodily ! How I longed for the first 
 note of the " reveille " every morning, for it announced 
 that one more horrible night had come to an end. All the 
 prominent events of my stay in Burmah are still remembered, 
 and they interest me when at times I recall them after this 
 long lapse of years.' 
 
 When well enough to be moved — I don't remember how 
 many weeks it took — I was sent to Calcutta and thence 
 home by long sea round the Cape in the steamer Lady 
 Jocelyn. We called at Madras and Point de Galle for 
 passengers, and then made for the Mauritius. 
 
 As our big and stately steamer entered the harbour of 
 Port Louis in that island, the intense greenness and rich 
 loveliness of its surroundings impressed me much. Coming 
 from the sea, the beauties of nature strike the visitor more 
 forcibly than when they are approached by land. The 
 harbour of very blue water was filled with ships, great and 
 small, a man-of-war being of the number. In near shore 
 the smaller vessels were so numerous that their masts 
 resembled a close but leafless wood. Above them were the 
 
 ' In winding up his report of our proceedings on March 19, Major 
 Holdich — now General Sir E. A. Holdich, K.C.B. — wrote as follows : 
 ..." I would beg to bring to your especial notice the conduct of 
 Ensign Wolseley, a young officer who has but lately joined the 
 service, who not only distinguished himself by his gallantry in lead- 
 ing the storming party, but by his judgment in marking the weak 
 part of the breastwork whereby the breach was effected.'* 
 
 73 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 ramparts with bastions and outworks whose masonry 
 escarps were visible from the sea, all being closely studded 
 with masonry-faced embrasures from each of which peeped 
 out the black muzzle of a gun. White houses showed 
 themselves on all sides in the midst of rich tropical vegeta- 
 tion. Behind was the town, and beyond it the bluest of 
 mountain ranges whose most remarkable feature was " Peter 
 Bot," with its curiously-shaped hat, the ascent of which is 
 deemed a great feat of strength and of cool-headed 
 determination. Fort Louis has long remained in my 
 memory as one of the most lovely of coloured pictures. 
 Nowhere else have I seen the sea, the earth and the sky 
 combined together into a scene so pleasing to the eye that 
 loves harmony in colour. I tried in vain to copy the scene 
 in my sketch-book, but gave it up as hopeless. A cobalt 
 coloured misty atmosphere, tinged with rose-madder, 
 seemed to hang between you and all you looked at. It was 
 in the sky and in the sea, and lent a hazy, lazy, dreaming, 
 restful tone to everything around you, overwhelming you 
 with positively sensuous enjoyment. In many places the 
 large and graceful leaves of the banana and the boughs of 
 flowering evergreens seemed to bend forward as it were to 
 watch — perhaps admire — their reflections in the bright sea 
 beside them. 
 
 The sea-front when seen from the ship, looked a puzzling 
 assortment of works bristling with guns, whose muzzles 
 like sentinels seemed to foUow your every movement. Upon 
 landing, it was curious in an English colony to find the 
 inhabitants talking French. Having just come from a laiid 
 where I had daily tried to think in Hindostani, I fear I 
 interlarded my French so much with that mongrel language 
 that I had some difficulty in making the Mauritian cab- 
 
 74 
 
ST. HELENA 
 
 driver understand when I asked him to take me to the 
 supposed burial-place of Paul and Virginia, the infant hero 
 and heroine of our childhood. 
 
 The men in garrison there were healthy, but rum was 
 cheap, and consequently there was much drunkenness. As 
 however, few of our soldiers then could read and write, and 
 had not therefore many amusements, this was not to be 
 wondered at. 
 
 Our next caUing-place was Cape Town, then still beautiful 
 and undisfigured with its present hideous docks and ugly 
 streets made still uglier by crowded tramcars. Nature 
 created the Capetown Peninsula beautiful with its lovely 
 deep water bay and its glorious background of Table Moun- 
 tain. Man has striven hard to render it hideous, and has 
 already gone far towards robbing it of its inherent beauty. 
 
 After leaving the Cape of Good Hope we called at St. 
 Helena and St. Vincent. These visits did much to break 
 the monotony of a long journey by sea, and above all things 
 enabled me to visit Napoleon's first burial-place. Bad as 
 he was, his career has always fascinated me in a way and to 
 a degree which that of no other mortal has ever done. His 
 name and achievements were associated wth my earliest 
 lessons in history, and had filled me with ambition, perhaps 
 an unhealthy ambition. The cold-blooded Wellington, the 
 great statesman, soldier and patriot, was our national hero, 
 but largely, I think, because he was the man who had 
 defeated the great Corsican disturber of the world. I had 
 often gazed with childish interest at an old coloured picture 
 of Napoleon's St. Helena tomb whUst lost in astonishment 
 at the blueness of the weeping willow which sheltered it. 
 His life and doings have an attraction for the young of all 
 nations which the history of no one else excites, although 
 
 75 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 he lacked most of the virtues that are instilled into the 
 Englishman as soon as he can learn anything. For truth, 
 and the honour which is based on truth and begotten by it, 
 he cared nothing. But notwithstanding my insular preju- 
 dices on such points, I have always felt he was the most 
 remarkable human being known to history. The lawgiver, 
 Moses, the chosen leader of his people, comes in many ways 
 near him ; but Napoleon was Moses and Aaron and Joshua 
 all in one. 
 
 As I landed in the little decaying port of Jamestown, my 
 thoughts involuntarily carried me back some thirty-seven 
 years to the day when that great man had stepped ashore 
 upon the lovely spot we had selected to be his prison for life. 
 Is the world ever again to possess so great a ruler ? If there 
 be a spot on earth where man can best moralize on the vanity 
 of human ambition, surely it is in that little island far ayay 
 from the busy hum of man where lived and suffered, lied 
 and acted, posed and died, this Colossus amongst human 
 beings. When I then visited and sketched the prettily 
 situated cottage in which he breathed his last, it was used 
 as a farm house, and the farmer had divided the principal 
 rooms into two storeys, the upper one being used as a l^ay 
 loft. The garden was a mass of weeds, and there was | an 
 uncared-for look about the place that made one sad. , I 
 thought we should not, for the sake of the small rent to be 
 obtained for it, turn to such uses the last home of the most 
 bitter and powerful of our enemies, and the greatest nian 
 who had ever ruled his kind. Between him and univer'sal 
 dominion England had at one time stood alone. We 
 fought him on sea and land : we destroyed his power, and 
 we most properly immured him where he could not escape 
 to harass mankind again. But in all our dealings with Him 
 
 76 
 
ST. HELENA 
 
 we should have remembered what he had been, we should 
 have borne with his play-acting, made greater allowance 
 for his character and temptations, his grievances, self- 
 created or not, and the part and character he had deter- 
 mined to play as our prisoner. Moreover, we should never 
 have allowed the house in which he died and the grounds 
 around it where he sauntered, and doubtless pondered over 
 the might have been, to degenerate into the dirty home of 
 a local and unappreciative farmer. Surely there is no senti- 
 ment in an English Ministry. But I must not omit to say 
 that our first duty, a duty we owed to the world, was to 
 take care that by no calculable possibility should he ever 
 escape. We accepted a great responsibility, a disagreeable, 
 a thankless obligation, and on the whole we have no serious 
 reason to be ashamed of the manner in which we discharged 
 it. His simple tomb in the reposeful little green valley he 
 had chosen for it, impressed me much more than I had ever 
 been moved by the splendid mausoleum where his bones 
 now rest. Both were made by men alien to him in race 
 and language. One, by the men of the nation he hated 
 and feared most ; the other by a former great ruler of France, 
 Le Roi Soleil, who, hke Napoleon, would, I think, have 
 achieved universal dominion had it not been for the fighting 
 qualities of our race, and for the wisdom of Queen Anne's 
 great general who knew how to make the most of them. 
 I have always loved to pore over the pages of Plutarch 
 and to study the comparisons he draws so well between the 
 characters of those he usually classes together. But surely 
 impartial men wilL for ever put Napoleon by himself and in 
 front of all human beings. In judging his character we 
 must never forget that in morality he had no better standard 
 than that preached by Macchiavelli ; the exigencies of the 
 
 77 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 moment, or of the intrigue or business he had in hand, 
 decided his course of action, which was absolutely untram- 
 melled by any fixed laws of right or wrong, by any con- 
 sideration for others. Personal success, pure and simple, 
 was his aim. In war, aU rules which guide honourable men 
 in the daUy actions of peaceful life are necessarily ignored. 
 We must break no compact entered into with an enemy, 
 but short of breaking a promise made, we leave no stone 
 unturned whereby we may deceive him. But Napoleon's 
 conduct in peace as weU as in war was directed along the 
 lines which all great captains adopt both in battle and in 
 preparing for it. He could estimate and value natural 
 ability in others and knew weU how to use to his own advan- 
 tage those who possessed it. But he could never distinguish 
 between right and wrong, or see in them antagonistic prin- 
 ciples in the conduct of public affairs. His mind seems 
 to have been incapable of understanding where or how the 
 unwritten code of honour comes in to calculations between 
 man and man or between nation and nation. The man 
 who would deceive others in the daily business of life by 
 forged telegrams, or even by the deliberate pubUcation of 
 false news, would, I believe, be turned out of our Stock Ex- 
 change. But all such practices are fully justified in war, and 
 Napoleon could not apparently perceive why a practice 
 that was recognized as fair in war should be denounced as 
 immoral in peace. 
 
 When I reached England I was able to waUc fairly well, 
 and a long and interesting visit to Paris made me forget 
 the misery my wound had caused me. 
 
 78 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 Go to the Crimea — Join the Light Division, 
 
 1854 
 
 SOON after my arrival in England I obtained my 
 lieutenancy, and was transferred in that rank to the 
 90th Light Infantry. I joined it in Dublin, and there 
 learnt a little drill, of which I had been previously pro- 
 foundly ignorant. 
 
 Our colonel was a handsome fine-looking old soldier, but 
 in no respect a scientific warrior. He was a Staffordshire 
 man, and heir to a property that had been in his famUy 
 for many centuries. We were not anxious to retain him, 
 but neither of the majors was thought to be good enough for 
 the command of such a regiment. One of our majors left 
 and was replaced by a first-rate soldier, who although he 
 knew nothing of light infantry manoeuvres as practised 
 in those days, and could never driU us, was a " real " soldier, 
 and a credit to us and to the Army. Three years afterwards, 
 as Lieutenant-Colonel Campbell, he met a soldier's death 
 when gallantly and ably leading the battalion at General 
 Havelock's great " Relief " of Lucknow. 
 
 To those who only know our Army as it exists now, it 
 may be interesting to hear something of our musketry 
 practice before the Crimean War. When in Dublin we fired 
 by companies, a fixed number of rounds per man annually, 
 
 79 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 on the space left uncovered at Sandymount during low 
 tide. The range was, I think, loo yards, and the target, 
 about six feet high by two and a half wide, was of white 
 calico, stretched over an iron framework. The men, es- 
 pecially the recruits, hated firing " old Brown Bess," which 
 kicked horribly, and which, unless pressed very firmly 
 against the shoulder, always threw the muzzle up when fired. 
 
 In the early spring of 1854 the new Minie rifle was given 
 to us. Months were spent in teaching the men how to aim 
 with it, and we were ordered to send an officer to one of the 
 newly opened schools of musketry to learn the theory and 
 practice of rifle shooting. No one cared much about going 
 there, and it was thought an excellent joke when a one- 
 armed of&cer was selected for the purpose. 
 
 The Army at first did not attach much importance to this 
 serious matter of re-armament. We were all too thoroughly 
 ignorant of war and of tactics to comprehend the complete 
 change the rifle was soon to make in the fate of battles, 
 and even in our mode of fighting. All soldiers knew that 
 the Duke of Wellington had to the last resisted the intro- 
 duction of the rifle musket, and there could be no appeal 
 from his decision. He believed in the voUey deUvered at 
 close quarters, and quickly followed by the bayonet charge, 
 in which the superiority of the British soldier was instantly 
 apparent. It was a mode of fighting peculiar to us, and had 
 won many a victory for England. Our military histories 
 had taught us to believe in " Brown Bess " as the soldier's 
 fetish. With a bayonet fixed, it became the clumsy pike 
 with which we had so often charged and overthrown Napo- 
 leon's finest legions, and, above all things, it was believed 
 to be the weapon best calculated to develop the hand-to- 
 hand fighting qualities and spirit of our men. 
 
 80 
 
FREEMASONRY 
 
 Dublin was then a dreary quarter for a man like me, 
 who could not afford to hunt, and whose wounded leg pre- 
 vented him from dancing. Its fragrant (?) river, its quays 
 lined with decaying houses, its squalid streets, made it an 
 undesirable and depressing place of residence. I joined my 
 regiment in Ship Street Barracks, situated in one of the 
 filthiest quarters of the town, though upon one side the 
 barrack buildings joined the Castle. There were two 
 clubs to which almost all my brother officers belonged ; 
 one was the United Service Club in Stephen's Green ; the 
 other the Victoria Yacht Club at Kingstown Harbour. 
 There was always a good deal of play going on in the garrison; 
 it was high play for men like myself, whose means were 
 small. I avoided unlimited loo, in which " big nights " at 
 mess occasionally ended, and as I only played whist I kept 
 my losses within bounds. But as it was, the money I lost 
 at it would have enabled me to have kept at least one horse 
 whilst I was quartered in Dublin. During the summer, as a 
 rule, very few dined in barracks ; most of us, I amongst 
 the number, generally dined at the Kingstown Yacht Club, 
 where the food was good, and it was extremely pleasant 
 after dinner to sit out and have one's coffee in the open 
 air. 
 
 During my period of service in Dublin in 1854 I was 
 initiated as a Mason in Lodge No. 728, and under a special 
 dispensation was raised to Master's Degree when under age. 
 Upon returning to Ireland in 1890 as Commander of the 
 Forces, I rejoined that Lodge, and was its Master for two 
 years. I have often been asked if I could point to any 
 advantage any one ever secured from being a member of 
 that most ancient of crafts. My answer has always 
 been that the only wounded officer left in the Redan, on 
 VOL. I. 81 G 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 September 8, 1855, who was taken by the Russians to 
 their hospital in the city, was Captain Herbert Vaughan, 
 of the 90th Light Infantry. This advantage he secured 
 by mailing himself known as a Mason to the first Russian 
 officer who approached him as he lay badly shot through 
 both legs. The officer said to him in French that he 
 regretted he could not himself go back with him, but 
 would send some men to carry him to the great hospital 
 in rear. There we found him two days afterwards, dying 
 from his wounds. He lived long enough, however, to tell 
 this interesting story. 
 
 About this time war was declared with Russia. A feeble 
 and incapable Government had committed us to a most 
 serious undertaking, for which we were in no way prepared. 
 The Czar, misled by some foolish Quakers and others of 
 the peace-at-any-price party, believed their nonsense, and 
 thought that nothing would induce us to fight. This made 
 war inevitable. 
 
 No nation was ever committed to a great foreign war 
 for which it was so unprepared. Mr. Bright and the manu- 
 facturers of his school had long thought that the surest way 
 to keep England out of all European wars, was to have no 
 army capable of fighting. Almost all the Civil departments 
 which feed an army in the field, and administer to its daily 
 wants, had long since been abolished on so-called economical 
 grounds, and everything that could be done by contract 
 was so done. I remember that the first time my battalion 
 had seen tents since it returned, years before, from the Cape, 
 was one day at a camp drUl in the Phoenix Park. It was 
 amusing to find that the tents were brought from the mili- 
 tary storehouses to the ground where they were to be 
 pitched, in the ordinary one-horse dung carts of the town 
 
OUR ARMY UNPREPARED 
 
 driven by their owners for the job. We had then no military 
 transport of any kind : and yet our Cabinet did not hesitate 
 to declare war with one of the very greatest miUtary nations 
 in the world ! Sir Thomas Picton was popularly believed 
 to have shot the last commissariat ofhc^ belonging to the 
 Army for incompetence ; and although the Army List 
 recorded the names of a few others said to be at the Cape 
 and in our colonies, the Home Army, having never seen 
 them, was inclined to disbelieve in their existence. 
 
 iEvery ordnance storehouse in Great Britain was ran- 
 sacked in order to collect guns and harness and ammunition 
 wagons for the ten batteries of horse and field artillery 
 sent to the East for the war. We had, however, some weak 
 battalions of excellent foot soldiers, and a few attenuated 
 regiments of cavalry, the men of both arms being dressed 
 and accoutred for show. We had no reserves of any kind, 
 and in order to make up to their regulation field strength 
 the thirty battalions of the Foot Guards and of the Line 
 which constituted the Army sent to Bulgaria in 1854, the 
 few battalions left at home were drained of their best men. 
 Our men and officers were beautifully drilled, and would have 
 delighted the heart of Frederick the Great. The officers, 
 brave and gallant fellows, were ready to lead their men any- 
 where, and the men would follow them to the death. For 
 the peace-preachers who manufactured rum, shoddy cottons, 
 bad carpets, worse guns, and still worse powder for sale 
 to the natives in or near our colonial and foreign possessions, 
 this so-caUed Army had a supreme contempt. At that 
 period, however, many of our cavalry regiments were 
 largely supplied with the sons of these rich merchants as 
 officers. Indeed, one regiment of great renown in former 
 days was commonly known as the " Trades Union." 
 
 83 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 But we had been so long at peace that the British officer 
 had ceased to dream of ever being engaged in any European 
 war, and the ambitious amongst us saw little opening for 
 their talents. All who could afford to live out of India 
 hated the thought of going there, and yet it was the only 
 place where there was much likelihood of seeing war, even 
 against Asiatics. As soon as it was known for certain 
 that the goth Light Infantry must go to India, promotion 
 had become brisk amongst us, for men began to leave the 
 regiment. The 43rd and 52nd Light Infantry had been in 
 Ireland with us, and all three regiments had been put 
 under orders for India at the same time. None of those three 
 had ever been to that land of mosquitoes, and it was a 
 generally accepted rule that they were never to be sent 
 there. But Lord Hardinge, who had become Commander- 
 in-Chief, very properly dispelled these illusions, and put 
 aU the three regiments I have named under orders to go 
 there. The first two were despatched, but for some reason 
 the goth were reprieved for a year, and this happy reprieve 
 enabled us to get to the Crimea. The officers of the 43rd 
 and 52nd exchanged largely into the Foot Guards, the Rifle 
 Brigade and other regiments, but most of those in my 
 regiment who would not go to India left the Army alto- 
 gether. The result was a good deal of promotion between 
 the date of being put under orders for India and our landing 
 at Balaclava at the beginning of December 1854. 
 
 Amongst the officers of my regiment, nice fellows as they 
 were, only a few cared much for the Army as a profession. 
 All were proud of belonging to a splendidly drilled Light 
 Infantry Battalion — drilled according to the practice of 
 war in the Peninsula, before the introduction of the rifled 
 musket. They thought themselves socially superior to the 
 
 84 
 
EMBARK FOR THE CRIMEA 
 
 ordinary regiments of the Line, which were always spoken 
 of as " Grabbies." Many of them were well connected, 
 and some were well off. It was in every respect a home 
 for gentlemen, and in that respect much above the great 
 bulk of Line regiments. But go to India few of them would. 
 The position of some in the regiment prevented them from 
 exchanging at once into regiments at home, but as soon as 
 their promotion came they meant to do so . By far the best 
 soldier amongst us was Captain Barnston, a dear good 
 fellow in all respects ; not lovely to look at, but able and 
 clever. A squire of good means and of an old family, he 
 had qualified at the Senior Department — the forefather of 
 our present Staff College. To him and to me idling in 
 Ireland was gaU and wormwood when the great bulk of our 
 Home Army had been sent to Turkey and then on to the 
 Crimea. We were at last the only regular infantry left in 
 Dublin, the other battalions doing duty there being English 
 militia. Both of us seriously contemplated exchanging 
 to a regiment in the field ; the news of the Alma increased 
 our feverish excitement and our longing to see active service 
 against the Russians. On Sunday, November 12, the 
 battalion was in the garrison church behind the Royal 
 Barracks, when a paper was handed to the senior officer 
 present, and by him sent round the officers' pew. It was 
 an order for us to embark for the Crimea on the following 
 Wednesday, the 15th. I could have shouted for joy, and 
 few of us paid attention to the rest of the parson's sermon 
 from that moment. This sudden order was the result of 
 the news of the battle of Inkerman, and of our heavy losses 
 there. 
 
 What a hubbub the barracks were in at once ! The 
 ofiicers determined to leave all their gold wings, gold laced 
 
 85 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 coats, etc., etc., behind, and to obtain a sort of double 
 breasted tunic, which had been just authorized for full 
 dress. The men, however, retained their white wings and 
 lace, for of course our Government could not be expected 
 to rise to the emergency and clothe their soldiers in useful 
 garments ! The ship in which we were to embark was not 
 ready for us until Sunday, November 19, when, just a 
 fortnight after the battle of Inkerman had been fought, 
 we embarked at Kingstown in the Cunard paddle steamer 
 Europa, the captain's name being Leech. He was a 
 thoroughly good fellow, a gentleman in all his ways and 
 feelings, and he could not do too much for the comfort 
 of the troops on board. 
 
 Being subaltern of the day when we embarked, I com- 
 manded the regimental guard, which marched in the rear 
 of- the- battalion. All the men in front of me were at the 
 " traU," so my small party attracted attention by their 
 fixed bayonets, especially as I had charge of some eight 
 or nine prisoners without arms. As we marched along the 
 crowded quays which led from the Royal Barracks to the 
 Kingstown railway station, great crowds surrounded us. 
 These were increased in numbers by the people coming 
 out of church, Mass being just over. The curious sympathy 
 of the Irish with the distressed and the lawless when " run 
 in" by the "cruel Saxon," here showed itself. Being a 
 very British regiment our men had few friends amongst the 
 inhabitants, but as soon as my prisoners attracted the 
 mob's attention I found myself the centre of a crowd that 
 regarded me as a jailer. " Poor boys," I heard on every 
 side, whilst men and women scowled upon me. They did 
 not care if the whole battalion were to be shot in the next 
 Crimean battle, but their feelings were very different for 
 
 86 
 
MALTA 
 
 these prisoners. Many purses were handed to them, and 
 they had a real ovation. They were assumed to be Eng- 
 land's enemies because thus guarded, so of course they at 
 once became the heroes, the dear friends, of the Dubhn 
 rabble. All mobs are cowardly, but I felt it was merely 
 fear that kept this crowd of comer-boys and their friends 
 from rushing my guard to release the half-dozen English 
 prisoners in its charge. 
 
 We were somewhat crowded on board, but such was my 
 joy at getting away that I would wilhngly have lived in the 
 stokehole during the voyage as the price to be paid for the 
 chance of seeing active service. 
 
 The captain had orders to make a quick voyage, and 
 we were consequently soon in sight of Gibraltar, that 
 Enghsh sentry-box where red-coated soldiers had kept 
 watch and ward for a century and a half. The Mediter- 
 ranean was blue and fairly calm, and as we ploughed through 
 it towards the East the climate began to be extremely 
 pleasant. The one topic of conversation on board was, 
 should we be in time to see any war service ? Should we 
 reach the Crimea before Sebastopol feU ? We put into 
 Malta to coal, and learnt that Sebastopol was still a Russian 
 garrison. I spent the day in visiting many places of anti- 
 quarian interest. I remembered Lord Byron's lines about 
 it, and did swear at times as I mounted the " cursed steps 
 of stairs," so common in the picturesque and by no means 
 savoury streets. We halted again to coal at Scutari, having 
 run up the Dardanelles by night, an achievement which few 
 ships had previously accomphshed, and not many captains 
 would have then liked to attempt. We found Constantinople 
 en fete, colours at every masthead, and at once jumped to 
 the conclusion that Sebastopol had fallen, and that we were 
 
 87 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 too late. But we shortly understood our mistake. AU 
 this show of bunting, etc., was in honour of the Bairam 
 or some other Mohammedan festival. We were slow in 
 coaling, and did not get under weigh again until the follow- 
 ing morning at daybreak, as it was deemed impossible 
 to attempt the passage of the Bosphorus by night. I was 
 on the morning watch, and cold and dreary and rainy as 
 was the weather, I enjoyed the scenery greatly, for every 
 inch of shore was classic ground. Its great massive and loop- 
 holed castles took my mind back to the fall of Constanti- 
 nople, and I pictured to myself the unworthy Christians 
 who lacked the courage to fight in its defence. Those 
 amongst us to whom Gibbon's chapters on the subject were 
 more enjoyable reading than all the novels ever printed, 
 saw those shores then with redoubled interest. 
 
 It was a raw, misty morning, and the Bosphorus, which 
 is lovely in nearly all weathers, was looking its worst. 
 Here and there a sentry in a hooded " Grego " was to be 
 seen seeking shelter, if not warmth, in his box, or under 
 the lee of some projecting angle of an imperial palace ; 
 but all other signs of life were absent, and the Turkish 
 world was evidently asleep. As we neared Therapia, our 
 ship steamed close to shore, where the deep channel, run- 
 ning within stone's throw of the bank, makes rather a sharp 
 bend towards the south. The current there is very rapid, 
 and catching the Europa's bow, checked her turning move- 
 ment. For the moment she would not answer her helm 
 and I thought we must go ashore. A long, three-storied 
 terrace of wooden houses stood on the water's edge, and our 
 ship, going straight on, drove its short stout bowsprit right 
 into the western gable of this terrace, at about the height 
 of the first floor. At that same moment our ship began to 
 
 88 
 
THE BOSPHORUS 
 
 turn slowly to starboard, razing, as she did so, several of 
 the wooden houses in the row down to the first floor. The 
 poor astonished Turks, thus roused from their sleep, were 
 to be seen bolting from the tumbling ruins like bees from 
 an overturned hive. The whole thing was over in less 
 than it takes to tell the story, but as we could not at such 
 a dangerous point of the navigation stop to inquire after 
 the killed and wounded, we steered our course, and were 
 soon steaming full power through what were at that season 
 of the year the dreary waters of the Black Sea. "WTiether 
 any men or women had been killed or hurt affected me 
 little, for, with all the selfishness of youthful ambition, 
 my very soul was filled with a longing to reach the Crimea 
 without delay. This craving filled my mind at the moment 
 to the exclusion of all other thought. It was a species of 
 madness, but I was sane enough to feel that it was so, and 
 to realize that it sprang from a personal longing for dis- 
 tinction, the outcome of an overwrought brain. I had 
 brooded for months over the bad luck — which I exaggerated 
 into the substance of an indignity — that whilst those in 
 the Crimea were fighting for England I was left behind, 
 condemned to lead a frivolous life in a home garrison. 
 It is perhaps only a youthful mind constituted as mine 
 was that can fully realize the misery, the sheer agony, 
 I experienced during the autumn I spent in Dublin in 1854. 
 The rebound of getting away at last was indescribable, 
 and now, steaming fast towards the point round which 
 all my thoughts centred, the world was bright, and, saving 
 the dread of being .too late, the cup of my joy was 
 brimful. 
 
 From the mouth of the Bosphorus to Balaclava is about 
 280 miles, and the following day, the 3rd of December in 
 
 89 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 the forenoon, we sighted the old Venetian towers overhang- 
 ing the land-locked little harbour of Balaclava, in the pool- 
 like waters of which we were soon berthed. The whole 
 coast on each side of the entrance was a mass of wreckage, 
 the result of the great and disastrous storm of the 15th of 
 the previous month, of which we had heard at Constantinople, 
 As soon as we were moored, several old acquaintances of 
 the Light Cavalry Brigade came on board. I remember 
 thinking they were poor creatures, for they all said they 
 meant to go home as soon as possible. One said: "Don't 
 come near me ; we are covered with vermin ; it is a hateful 
 place, and nothing would tempt me to remain here." How 
 I despised that fellow, and felt he was unworthy to be called 
 an Englishman. These officers (!) had every night in bed ; 
 they did no trench work, and being encamped near Bala- 
 clava, were able daily to buy wine and good food. They 
 told us a great deal of the Balaclava Charge, where all 
 had certainly fought well, and had nobly led their men 
 straight ; but yet they lacked the manliness to bear for 
 any length of time the hardships and discomforts their 
 men experienced daily ! He must be a craven indeed, 
 who, being well mounted, would not charge home at the 
 head of his own men. It is not thus the noblest form 
 of courage is made manifest, but in the daily endurance of 
 cold and want. 
 
 The dirt of tent hfe in a very windy wet and dreary 
 winter, such as that we spent in trench-work before Sebasto- 
 pol, is not pleasant. The absence of every comfort to which 
 all classes at home are accustomed tries the temper, and 
 tests the metal we are made of. But the vast majority 
 of us who did so spend that winter, would rather have died 
 a hundred deaths in misery and want than have given in, 
 
 90 
 
BALACLAVA 
 
 even at our worst epoch. When in subsequent years I 
 met any poor hearted creatures who had sneaked on board 
 ship, or to Scutari or to England on the plea of an 
 extra pain in the stomach, I felt indignant at having to 
 associate with officers who had so forfeited all claims to 
 be regarded as gentlemen. How unworthy they were 
 of the honour, the privilege, of commanding the British 
 non-commissioned officer and private ! But as my story 
 goes on I shall have more to say of such unworthy fellows. 
 How could they sleep at Scutari in clean sheets, or live at 
 home with every comfort around them, knowing that the 
 men of their own troops or companies were literally dying 
 of want and misery before Sebastopol ? During that 
 winter we often lived on offal and garbage, but I am sure 
 that none of us thought we were therefore objects of pity, 
 or deserved praise on that account. Speaking for myself, 
 aU my sympathy was with the Rank and File ; my heart 
 was daily rent as I saw the privates die around me, because 
 they had not the means of even buying the offal which my 
 servant purchased weekly for himself and me from a friend 
 who was a commissariat butcher. It is difficult, even after 
 this lapse of time, to write in moderate terms of those com- 
 missioned creatures who, able to fight and work, crowded 
 into our hospital ships, and, when they could do so, sneaked 
 home to England, leaving others to do their duty. But 
 what about that Civil Government of ours which sent an 
 army to the Crimea without any means of carrying either 
 food or wounded men ! If the curses of brave men affect 
 the future life of those who have injured them, many mem- 
 bers of the Cabinet that sent us to the Crimea must now 
 have uncomfortable quarters somewhere. And richly they 
 deserve to be punished in the next world, for our Ministers 
 
 91 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 are never adequately punished in this Hfe for their public 
 crimes in such cases. Was there ever a greater public crime 
 than that of sending our little army to the Crimea, where so 
 many died of want and of the diseases which want always 
 engenders ? 
 
 But we are told that it was done through ignorance. 
 Ignorance, forsooth ; and of what greater crime can a War 
 Minister be convicted ? If he be ignorant, what right has 
 he to fill a place and draw its emoluments when he lacks the 
 knowledge required for the proper and useful discharge of 
 its duties ? Yet this is still what we see ; a man who is not 
 a soldier, and who is entirely ignorant of war, is selected 
 solely for political reasons to be the Secretary of State for 
 War. I might with quite as great propriety be selected 
 to be the chief surgeon in a hospital. I have had some 
 experience of wounds and operations, but those too often 
 selected to be our Ministers of War know as much about 
 war or soldiers as I do of abstruse theology. It is an infa- 
 mous, a foolish system, and sooner or later it must land us 
 in serious, if not in some disastrous, national calamity. 
 
 We were ordered to disembark at once, and encamp on 
 the sloping ground to the north-west of the harbour — part 
 of which, be it remarked, was an old graveyard ! We took 
 leave of the captain and the chief officer of the Europa, 
 to whom all ranks were most grateful for their unvarying 
 kindness whilst we were on board. Each officer landed 
 with his haversack full of tea, sugar, sardines, etc., etc., 
 and whenever, subsequently, the Europa again came to the 
 Crimea, a Southdown sheep or something good to eat was 
 sent by her most generous and friendly captain as a present 
 for the officers. In our turn, we presented him with a 
 handsome gold watch as a memento of our successful 
 
 92 
 
CAMP AT BALACLAVA 
 
 voyage, and of the care he took of the battahon when on 
 board his ship.^ 
 
 We landed in boats, and as I stepped ashore I was sur- 
 prised to see, close to my feet, a Mini^ rifle lying half in 
 and half out of the water. It gave me a shock, for I knew 
 how valuable those arms were at the time ; indeed, England 
 possessed so few of them that we were sent to the Crimea 
 with the old " Brown Bess " musket. It was to me mute 
 evidence that all was not well with the soul, the spirit, of the 
 Army in the field, and that already, to some extent, de- 
 moralization must have set in. Was it possible that our 
 then rigid system of repressive discipline was unsuited to 
 men under the strain of over-work with bad and insufficient 
 food ? Upon examining the rifle to see what regiment it 
 belonged to, I found it was marked, " G. Company, 90th 
 Light Infantry." That was the company to which I be- 
 longed. It was one of those issued to us early in the year, 
 but given back shortly afterwards because required for the 
 little army which our Cabinet had, with a light heart, sent 
 to fight the great military power of Russia ! There were 
 not enough rifles in store to arm even that little force ! 
 When wiU the civilians who rule England understand the 
 absurdity of keeping on foot a small standing army, for 
 which all the arms and military stores it would require in the 
 field are not always available for issue ? 
 
 As soon as we were established in camp, kitchens made 
 and fires lit, the great interest was to take stock of our 
 nearest enemy, and through our glasses examine his position. 
 General Liprandi then commanded the Russian force, 
 occupying the Fiducan Heights, and the line of low hills 
 
 ^ My battalion, when landed, numbered twenty-nine officers and 
 814 N. C. officers and privates. 
 
 93 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 from which the Turks had been beaten on October 25. 
 In fact, he held the hne of the Tchernaya River, having an 
 advanced force pushed across it, with the apparent intention 
 of threatening our base of supphes at Balaclava. If driven 
 from that little harbour, we should have had to fall back 
 upon the French base at Kamiesch, which could not be 
 attacked until the allied navies had been destroyed. Bala- 
 clava was far from strong, though the Highland Brigade, 
 under the splendid old soldier Sir Colin Campbell, was 
 strongly posted on the heights to the east of the harbour. 
 From his position there was a fine clear view over the plain 
 between the Tchernaya and Balaclava, He was not a man 
 to be caught napping, and had strengthened his position 
 with redoubts, infantry parapets, and rifle shelters. H.M.S. 
 Sanspareille, moored at the northern end of the harbour, 
 commanded the direct line of approach from Liprandi's 
 position to Balaclava. My battalion on the north-west 
 of the harbour, with the guns of that man-of-war sweeping 
 across our front, denied all access to the place from the 
 village of Kadikoi, which was about a mile from us on the 
 road leading to Sebastopol. 
 
 I bought a pony the day I landed, and the following 
 morning, December 5, I started on him to have a look at 
 Sebastopol. From Cathcart's Hill, just in front of the 4th 
 Division Camp, I had a good view of the town, the harbour, 
 the docks, and the forts protecting the place. Whilst 
 engaged in examining all the many points of interest through 
 my telescope, two Russian men-of-war, the Vladimir and 
 another — whose name I don't remember — steamed out of 
 the harbour, and, turning south, took up a position that 
 enabled them to enfilade the French parallels, whose left 
 more or less rested on the sea there. She poured a steady 
 
 94 
 
ATTACK BY RUSSIAN STEAMERS 
 
 fire of shot and shell into the Freneh works and approaches, 
 evidently keeping a good look out upon our fleet in the 
 offing. Our admiral was unprepared for any such gallant 
 audacity on the part of his naval enemy, for none of his 
 ships had steam up, and before a couple of them could be 
 got under weigh the Russian had ample time to hammer 
 well the left of the French siege works. It was a remark- 
 ably pretty sight, and we all applauded the enemy's daring 
 and swagger, and had a good laugh at the expense of our 
 admiral, who had been thus caught napping. As soon as 
 a couple of our ships were able to steam in the direction 
 of the enterprising Russian, she paddled back slowly, and 
 almost insultingly, to her moorings in the harbour. Forts 
 Constantine and Alexander opening fire upon our foremost 
 steamer, H.M.S. Sampson, to cover their retreat. I had 
 taken my sketch book with me, and one of the few Crimean 
 drawings I still possess is that which I made of this affair. 
 Cathcart's Hill was even then tolerably full of our dead, and 
 I was shown the graves of many gallant leaders who had 
 fallen at Inkerman, the battle where we were surprised, 
 and our army only saved from destruction by the timely 
 arrival of French troops to help us. Good heavens ! What 
 generals then had charge of England's only army, and of her 
 honour and fighting reputation ! They were served to a 
 large extent by incompetent staff officers as useless as them- 
 selves ; many of them merely fidneurs " about town," who 
 knew as little of war and its science as they did of the 
 Differential Calculus ! Almost all our officers at that time 
 were uneducated as soldiers, and many of those placed 
 upon the staff of the Army at the beginning of the war 
 were absolutely unfit for positions they had secured through 
 family or political interest. There were, of course, a few 
 
 95 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 brilliant exceptions, but they made the incompetence of 
 the many aU the more remarkable. 
 
 After a few days' sojourn in camp at Balaclava, my 
 battalion was sent to join the 2nd Brigade of the Light 
 Division. A very muddy march took us to our destin- 
 ation. We encamped to the east of the Woronzoff Road, 
 behind the old " Picket House," and sufficiently far down 
 the reverse slope of the rising ground on which it stood to 
 screen us from the enemy's observation. Our camp was 
 nearly a mile and a half in rear of our first parallel, and 
 about two miles and a quarter from the Salient of the Redan. 
 The ground where we pitched our tents was very rocky, 
 and we had some difficulty in driving home our tent-pegs, 
 and in making the usual small trenches required round each 
 tent. There were three officers with each company, the 
 captain and his two subalterns, all of whom occupied one 
 tent. 
 
 96 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 The Crimea — My First Night on Outlying 
 Picket there, 1854 
 
 IT is not my intention to enter upon any history of the 
 Siege of Sebastopol, the most important, the most 
 curious of all such operations in modern times. Sufficient to 
 say, that as I read the story of our invasion of the Crimea 
 by the two allied armies, I am astonished at the reckless 
 folly with which it was undertaken. The Emperor Napo- 
 leon III had enough soldiers to enable him to retrieve the 
 great mistake then made in sending too small an army 
 there : we had not. The consequence was that the French 
 were able to end the war in triumph and with credit ; 
 whereas at the end of the war our battalions carried with 
 them into the remotest provinces of the Empire where we 
 maintain garrisons, the sad story of failure for which the 
 British Ministers, not the British soldiers, were directly re- 
 sponsible. The Government in office had given our small 
 army a task far beyond its power to accomplish. In olden 
 times, when a British general failed in the field our practice 
 was to remove him, and now we hear that in future he 
 is to be tried by court martial. But since the days when 
 we first adopted the system of responsible Ministers, we 
 have never yet hanged, nor even tried, the Minister whose 
 folly or stupidity led him to declare war when our Army 
 
 VOL. I. 97 H 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 was not fit to take the field. Most certainly the military- 
 force maintained by England when her Ministers declared 
 war with Russia in 1854 could in no sense be justly called 
 an army at ail. It was not a " going military machine," any 
 more than a steam engine is whose boiler is kept in Hahf ax, 
 its cylinder in China, and its other machinery distributed 
 in bits wherever the map of the world is coloured red, and 
 for which machine neither water nor coals nor oil nor repairing 
 tools are kept at hand. Our soldiers were magnificent fight- 
 ing material ; no better have ever pulled a trigger in any war. 
 But since 1815 the interests of what was styled " economy ! " 
 were more attended to than the military efficiency of our 
 troops, which were kept in isolated garrisons at home and 
 abroad. They were most carefully drilled for theatrical 
 effect, but not taught the practice of war. It had been 
 deemed by Ministers, who ranked economy before efficiency, 
 a useless expense to maintain in peace even the skeleton of a 
 transport service. 
 
 The essentially military and naval city of Sebastopol 
 lies south of the magnificent harbour of that name. It 
 stands on a high, square block of land about a mile and a 
 half long, from north to south, and about a mUe and a quarter 
 wide. Its eastern half was fairly well covered with streets 
 and houses when the allied armies sat down before it. 
 
 On the east, that block is bounded by the Dockyard Creek, 
 and on the west by Quarantine Bay. It was naturally a 
 very strong place, but with the exception of several heavily 
 armed coast forts and batteries to command the harbour 
 entrance, the only attempt at fortification towards the 
 south on the land side was a sort of large Martello tower 
 that stood on high ground, something over 300 feet above 
 sea level, and about two and a half miles south of the har- 
 
 98 
 
POSITION OF SEBASTOPOL 
 
 bour, and nearly the same distance east of the Dockyard 
 Creek. This work was known as the Malakoff. 
 
 Sebastopol was naturally a strong place, and a number 
 of heavily armed ships of war were anchored in the harbour, 
 to assist with their fire in the event of a coup de main being 
 attempted by us. Our fleet could not help the allied armies 
 in any such enterprise, for the Russians had sunk a number 
 of ships at the mouth of the harbour, leaving only a narrow 
 passage close to Fort Alexander for their own steam war 
 vessels to pass out and in. 
 
 Upon the highest ground to the immediate north of the 
 harbour there was a large star fort with masonry reveted 
 ditches. It was but a poor work, and might possibly have 
 been taken by a coup de main had we not been compelled 
 to make the flank march we did to the south of the city, 
 in order to secure possession of Balaclava Harbour as the 
 immediate base for our army during the coming siege of 
 Sebastopol. 
 
 The ground occupied by the English and French armies 
 lies to the south of Sebastopol, and is a high rocky plateau, 
 shaped like an isosceles triangle. Its sides are washed by 
 the sea, its base faces eastward, inland, whUst its apex. 
 Cape Chersonese, is to the west. Its northern side, ten 
 and a half miles long, is indented by great bays, some of 
 which stretch over a mile inland. It joins the base where 
 the river Tchernaya falls into the eastern extremity of 
 Sebastopol Harbour. The southern side of this triangle, 
 about a mile longer than the northern side, is one unbroken 
 coastline of great, steep and storm-washed cliffs, and may 
 be said to join the base at a point about a mile south of 
 the little village of Karani. Those chffs, however, run on 
 to the Harbour of Balaclava. The base of this triangle, 
 
 99 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 the highest part of the plateau, and rising at certain points 
 to a height of five and six hundred feet above the sea, is 
 about eight and a half miles in length. It is of steep access 
 from the east throughout its entire length, except at the 
 " Col " and in its immediate vicinity, where the road from 
 Balaclava to our camp ascends the plateau. The steep 
 slopes that form this base abound in strong military posi- 
 tions, facing eastward, but we had then few staff officers 
 who were either competent to select them or to report upon 
 their defensive capabilities.^ 
 
 Of this triangular plateau we took the eastern portion 
 with the land-locked Harbour of Balaclava as our immediate 
 base, the French taking the western and larger half, with 
 the Bays of Kamiesch and Kazatch as their harbours. 
 What may be described as the dividing line between the 
 two armies on this plateau was the Picket Ravine, which 
 extends upwards from the head of Dockyard Creek for about 
 four miles in a southerly direction, and ends at its source 
 in the farm round the house that was Lord Raglan's head- 
 quarters, and where he died, broken-hearted I always 
 thought. 
 
 The captain of my company had taken a University 
 
 ^ Before the Crimean War began there were few incentives for 
 officers to study their profession scientifically. The great bulk of 
 the staff at home, and most of those who had been selected for staff 
 work with the army sent to Turkej', were chosen for family reasons. 
 However, that was soon changed, for they were found to be mostly 
 incompetent for all practical work in the field. Clever educated 
 professional soldiers took their places according as vacancies occurred. 
 I knew the officers well who were, as late as the fall of Sebastopol, 
 the quarter-master-generals of two of our five divisions, and they 
 were not men whom I would have entrusted with a subaltern's picket 
 in the field. Had they been private soldiers I don't think any 
 colonel would have made them corporals. 
 
 100 
 
/ 
 
 ON PICKET 
 
 degree. I do not know what he had learnt thereby, but I 
 do know that he had learnt nothing of a soldier's duties 
 in the field. His men disliked him very much, for he took 
 no manner of interest in their welfare. He knew the names 
 of his colour-sergeant and of his servant, but I doubt if he 
 knew the names of many others. He had no sympathy 
 with his men nor with their feelings, and of course they were 
 well aware of the fact. He knew his drill well, for in a 
 Light Infantry Regiment that was essential, but of tactics 
 or outpost duties he had no knowledge whatever. 
 
 A few days after our amval in camp the company I 
 belonged to was in orders for picket duty in the Middle 
 Ravine the following morning. I did not then know where 
 that ravine was, but I subsequently came to know it well 
 as that which divided the two brigades of the Light Division. 
 It was a twenty-four hours' tour of duty, and I was the only 
 one in the company who had ever been on outlying picket 
 before an enemy. 
 
 We " turned out " the next morning between four and 
 five a.m., when it was pitch dark, raining hard, and both 
 raw and cold. In every aspect the weather was unpro- 
 mising, and no one appreciated having to leave his blankets 
 and the shelter his beU tent afforded. Our adjutant ap- 
 peared on the parade ground to see us start. He was a 
 curious fellow, unpopular with both officers and men, and 
 at heart no soldier. He disliked war, because, with Frederick 
 the Great's father, he thought it spoiled the soldier's appear- 
 ance and his drill, and even relaxed discipline. But he 
 loved picturesque costumes, and had made for himself 
 from the bearskin covering to his holster-pipes a headdress 
 resembling that in which Robinson Crusoe was usually 
 shown in the illustrated books of my childhood. 
 
 lOI 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 ' He knew nothing of where the Middle Ravine picket was 
 posted, so could give us no information for our guidance. 
 At last, after waiting some little time, the Brigade Major 
 appeared on the scene, if I may use such an expression, when 
 no one could see much beyond his nose. It was amongst 
 his duties to see the pickets furnished by his brigade duly 
 posted ; and as we jwere strangers just arrived in camp, 
 and entirely ignorant of the localities about us, he should 
 have either gone with us to this Middle Ravine, or found 
 us a guide to take us there. But he too contented him- 
 self with giving us the vaguest description of how, as he put 
 it, we " were certain to find it," and then, pointing into the 
 dark in its supposed direction, he retreated from the rain to 
 the shelter of his tent. 
 
 My reader, picture to yourself what your feelings would be 
 if " turned out " very early on a cold raw morning, that 
 was as dark as midnight, the rain falling heavily, and told 
 to find your way to a distant point across a roadless York- 
 shire moor, where there were no prominent landmarks, and 
 no chance of meeting any one at such an hour from whom 
 to ask the way. No moon and not a star to be seen that 
 might possibly give you some indication of north and 
 south, etc., and to feel you had to relieve a company ex- 
 pecting you, and that was naturally longing to get back 
 to camp for some food and warmth after its twenty-four 
 hours' tour of duty. 
 
 I have entered in some detail upon this story of my first 
 picket before Sebastopol, because it illustrates the incompe- 
 tence of a large proportion of those who had been selected 
 for staff work at that early period of the Crimean War. A 
 man at that epoch became known in his regiment as being 
 " smart " if he could drill well, and had some knowledge 
 
 102 
 
FIRST NIGHT ON OUTLYING PICKET 
 
 of " The Queen's Regulations " and of the " Interior 
 Economy " of a regiment. I don't know what our 
 brigade major knew, but he certainly did not evince any 
 intimate acquaintance with the staff duties of his office. 
 
 We started, and my captain left the rest to me. I 
 naturally assumed that all the ravines which drained that 
 side of the plateau upon which we were encamped must 
 run down to Sebastopol Harbour, and as it was said to 
 be the first ravine we should encounter, we had only to 
 trudge along it until we should stumble upon the picket 
 we were in search of. 
 
 The heavy rain had converted this ravine into a water- 
 course through which we floundered in silence. The dis- 
 tance seemed interminable, and at last we had begun to 
 imagine we must have got into the wrong ravine, and might 
 soon find ourselves prisoners in Sebastopol. The position 
 was unpleasant, when suddenly I heard the tramp of men 
 coming towards us. The idea at once occurred that if we 
 were on the wrong track this might possibly be a Russian 
 patrol. I made my captain " front form " towards the 
 supposed enemy, whilst I went forward with a file of men 
 and challenged : " Who goes there ? " A voice from the 
 darkness answered in the richest of Tipperary brogues, 
 " friend." It turned out to be half the company of the 
 Connaught Rangers that formed the picket we were in 
 search of. Its captain, tired of waiting for his relief, had 
 upon his own authority sent home to camp half of his men, 
 in order to have hot tea ready for the arrival of the other 
 half. It was a dangerous thing to do, for as we were new- 
 comers, left to find the Middle Ravine picket as best we 
 might, it was quite on the cards we might have saluted 
 our friends in the dark with a volley. Besides, daybreak 
 
 103 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 was the hour when outlying pickets require to be as strong 
 as possible. But all our duties were slackly and badly 
 performed then. 
 
 We found the captain of the old picket in no very amiable 
 mood at the tardiness of our arrival, and he took little 
 trouble to give us any information regarding the duties we 
 were to undertake. He and his men bundled off as quickly 
 as possible, showing us, as he started, a hole amongst some 
 rocks in the side of the ravine, in which he said the officers 
 stayed. My captain must have been some eight years 
 older than I was, but he let me do as I liked. He knew 
 nothing about picket duties, and troubled himself little 
 on the subject. This suited me in every way, and not- 
 withstanding the rain and the discomfort, I found the duty 
 and responsibility of the position quite after my own heart. 
 
 Although the Russians had houses to live in and plenty 
 of firewood, still they too succumbed to the influence of the 
 horrible wet and cold weather, and were not keen for night 
 attacks whUst it lasted. They too must have suffered, 
 though not a tithe of what we did. So carelessly was our 
 outpost duty performed during the first winter, that our 
 immunity from attack was not so much due to the precau- 
 tions we took against surprise as to the badness of the 
 weather, which prevented the Russians from attacking us. 
 There was also the fact that we had taught them so severe 
 a lesson upon the morning of Inkerman, about a month 
 before ; they were not over anxious to cross bayonets with 
 us so soon again. It rained upon us most of the day. 
 Here and there time and running water had scooped out 
 shallow open caves in the soft limestone rock which formed 
 the sides of this Middle Ravine and of all the other ravines 
 which ran down from our camps on the high plateau to the 
 
 104 
 
THE MIDDLE RAVINE PICKET 
 
 Harbour of Sebastopol. These afforded a little shelter, 
 and in the best of them my unsoldierlike captain ensconced 
 himself for his tour of duty, letting the men shift for them- 
 selves as best they could. I was left to make what arrange- 
 ments I liked for the protection of the post, and to guard it 
 against surprise. I enjoyed these responsibilities, for they 
 gave me a feeling of importance. But what a bad example 
 his conduct would have been to an ignorant young subal- 
 tern, and how bad it was for the non-commissioned officers ! 
 All ranks in the company despised him as being no soldier. 
 
 During the day we collected what roots and brushwood 
 we could to cook the men's dinner, and to provide us with 
 some little fire during the long evening and night to follow. 
 But it poured with rain at times, and the men, badly fed, 
 were silent and depressed. A good glass of grog all round at 
 dinner hour, however, did them much good. My dear 
 good total abstainer, you would have thought so too had 
 you been there. I think we had another " tot " with hot 
 water and sugar about tattoo. Personally, I spent most 
 of the night in \'isiting our sentries, and in peering from 
 their posts into the heavy wet obscurity beyond, listening 
 for any sound in front of feet splashing in the mud and 
 running water of the ravine that stretched towards the 
 enemy's position. We stood to our arms next morning 
 sometime before daybreak and until our relief arrived, 
 not quitting the position until it was broad daylight. This 
 is the absolute rule upon such occasions, though often 
 neglected at that time before Sebastopol. 
 
 I have described this, my first night upon outlying picket 
 in the Crimea, for it was typical of the careless and ignorant 
 manner in which our staff work was done by the uneducated, 
 and too often the useless, officers at first selected for staff 
 
 105 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 positions, and also of the manner in which our outpost duty 
 was mostly performed throughout the winter of 1854-5. 
 It was not our rank and file who were the worst in this 
 respect, for they had been well taught obedience, the first 
 and most important duty of a soldier ; it was our officers 
 of all degrees who were generally ignorant of their work, 
 and the most striking examples of military ignorance were 
 the great majority of those who had been selected to be 
 our generals and our brigadiers and for the staff of the Army 
 generally. A large proportion of these were taken from the 
 Foot Guards, who had not then even the advantage of 
 knowing what our Army was like outside of St. James' 
 and Windsor. All were gallant daring fellows, who looked 
 well after their men, and never spared themselves in any 
 way in doing so. They were the very best material of 
 which officers could possibly be made, and on active service 
 always showed themselves most anxious to learn their duty, 
 and never shrank from any amount of hard work. It was 
 not their fault that they did not know their duty as officers 
 when they embarked for Turkey ; it was the fault of the 
 wretched system under which they lived nominally as 
 soldiers, but never in barracks with their men, and having 
 but little personal contact with them. All that is changed 
 now. All corps in our Army were vastly improved by their 
 service in the Crimea, but to none did it give such an entirely 
 new life as to all ranks in the battalions which constituted 
 the Brigade of Guards in that war. 
 
 106 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 My First Day's Duty in the Trenches, 1854 
 
 MY first tour of trench duty was by day, and I enjoyed 
 it thoroughly. Full of fight and with a fair theoretical 
 knowledge of " attack and defence," and of the besieger's 
 art generally, the whole thing was delightful. I felt 
 I had studied fortification to some useful purpose. My 
 fellow subaltern was clever, a great reader, fond of 
 the classics ; he used at Eton to write Latin verses for 
 his chums, of whom some were in our battalion. He 
 was quite cool, but had no keenness for his profession. 
 Although we were the only battalion in the right attack 
 armed with Brown Bess, we were sent into what was 
 then the most advanced trench and subsequently became 
 our third parallel. Just in front of it was a spring of 
 good water, round which we had thrown up a parapet 
 to screen our men who went there to fill their calabashes. 
 I was close to it all the day, and not more than about 
 a couple of hundred yards off were some Russian rifle 
 pits. From them came a bullet whenever a man showed 
 himself above the parapet, and I amused myself putting 
 a forage cap on a ramrod to see how near the bullet came 
 to it. Then I made one of the men do it whilst I stood 
 at a neighbouring loophole with a cocked musket laid 
 upon the spot from which the last Russian shot had been 
 
 107 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 fired. As soon as I saw the puff of smoke from the hostile 
 loophole I let drive at it. I carried on this little game 
 for a long time with intense interest and amusement, 
 until at last, bang came in a round shot followed by two 
 or three shell. I flattered myself that I had stung the 
 Russian bear, and that having killed or wounded some 
 of the riflemen in front of me, they had thus opened 
 fire upon us to keep us quiet. At this juncture, an 
 officer arrived on the scene, having been sent by the 
 field officer of the day from the Twenty-one gun Battery 
 in rear to know " what all the firing was about ? " When 
 the facts were reported I received an order to " shut up " 
 and not thus draw fire uselessly upon us. Afterwards 
 throughout the siege, whenever I was idle during a day's 
 tour of duty, I went into the advanced works and amused 
 myself in the way I had done during my first day's ex- 
 perience of trench duty. I may not have killed a large 
 number, not even one, but I at least made the enemy 
 realize that we were keen and lighthearted and always 
 ready to engage in such duels. It ser\''ed to keep alive 
 the same spirit amongst our men. 
 
 Throughout the whole siege, according to my views 
 at the time, and as I still think, the one great desire on 
 the part of the field officer of the day was if possible to 
 keep things quiet during his twelve hours' duty in the 
 trenches. This wish was certainly far too pronounced, and 
 often too evident. In some respects it was doubtless 
 a wise policy, for the Russians with a great arsenal behind 
 them could at all times afford to fire three shells or 
 round shot to our one. There was no stint of guns or 
 ammunition in Sebastopol, judging from the piles of 
 both we found in the place when it fell. But the case 
 
 io8 
 
MY FIRST CRIMEAN WINTER 
 
 was very different with us. Not only had all our guns, 
 powder, shot and shell to come by sea to Balaclava, but 
 to be dragged up from there to our trenches some eight 
 miles distant, and our Cabinet had not provided us with 
 transport of any sort. It was therefore very necessary 
 to economize even our musket ammunition. But there 
 was a limit to that policy, and I think our field officers 
 and our generals exceeded that limit. Any little show 
 of timidity, no matter how insignificant in itself, damps 
 the spirits of your own men and cannot fail to encourage 
 the enemy. 
 
 During the month of December the weather was fine 
 though cold. If we had been well fed we should have 
 done well, but we never had enough to eat, and what we 
 had was never appetizing. Before the beginning of the 
 new year, when we might have shown some energy and 
 vigour and thrown some amount of enterprise into our 
 " attack," there was an entire absence of it, and we had 
 already begun to act upon the defensive. The role of 
 besieger and besieged was already reversed, and we tamely 
 sat down under it. After Christmas no other policy 
 was open to us, and if the Russians had thoroughly under- 
 stood our real condition then, they might with ease have 
 driven us from the right — the important attack — spiked 
 our guns, blown up our trench magazines, and retired 
 in safety by the Middle Ravine and Mamelon-Vert. If 
 we lacked energy they lacked it all the more, and with 
 much less excuse ; for their men were not exposed in tents 
 as we were, and had plenty of food and an abundance of 
 firewood to cook it with. 
 
 I returned to camp that evening in every way satisfied 
 with my first day in the trenches, which I can honestly 
 
 109 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 say I thoroughly enjoyed. Indeed, I may add, every 
 day that I siibsequently spent in our siege works afforded 
 me intense pleasure. 
 
 Christmas Day was at hand, and all were anxious to 
 have, if possible, a plum pudding and something better 
 than usual for dinner that day. My brother subaltern and 
 I managed to buy at Balaclava a box of figs, a few pounds 
 of very rancid suet or grease of some sort. No raisins or 
 currants were to be had, nor could we obtain any flour. 
 We thought that cut-up figs would suitably represent 
 the plums, and that pounded-up biscuit would be a fair 
 substitute for the flour. A Russian round shot and a large 
 section of an exploded thirteen inch shell answered well 
 as a pestle and mortar to pulverize the ship's biscuits. 
 I was then and always have been the most feeble and 
 useless of cooks. In the first place I hated cooking of 
 all sorts, and to attempt it when there was any meat to 
 be cut up or otherwise manipulated was repulsive to me. 
 Even in the backwoods of Canada, I shrank from bleeding 
 the deer I shot, and could neither " clean " fish nor cut 
 up nor prepare any flesh for dinner. The sight of raw 
 meat even to this day gives me nausea, and to pass a 
 butcher's shop is always a trial. But to attempt to make 
 a plum pudding was an amusement, and I was both greedy 
 and hungry for a good '-' blow-out" to relieve the monotony 
 of salt pork and, still worse, of red navy salt junk. 
 
 We two subalterns made a horrible looking mess of the 
 materials I have described, and it was in no sense an appe- 
 tizing looking dish. But after hours of work over it, the 
 question of how a plum pudding was cooked occurred, 
 and neither of us had any clear notions on the subject. 
 We went as a deputation to our dear old Quarter-Master, 
 
 no 
 
MY CHRISTMAS PUDDING 
 
 a fine fellow in every respect. He had lately been our 
 sergeant-major and commanded the respect of all ranks. 
 He seemed to pity our foolish ignorance, and said it should 
 be boiled, and boiled for several hours, describing how 
 it should be tied up in a napkin before being put into the 
 pot. I sacrificed one of my very few towels for the 
 purpose, and we both felt much relieved when we saw the 
 pot containing this unsavoury mess put upon the fire in 
 charge of a servant, who was told to watch and tend it 
 carefully. I dawdled about the camp, looking forward 
 to a better dinner than usual and to a night in bed, for 
 " G Company " was not for the trenches until the following 
 morning. It was about 3 p.m. that an orderly sergeant 
 arrived with the company order book, from which I learnt 
 that we were unexpectedly required for the trenches that 
 evening. What was to be done with the plum pudding ? 
 Our captain didn't care for it, although he swore as our 
 men did in Flanders at his bad luck in having to be on 
 duty all night. As we, his two subalterns, were at the 
 moment both hungry, this question of the plum pudding 
 was a serious matter : should we eat it in its half-boiled 
 state or keep it for the following day ? The ensign was 
 for the latter, I in my greed and hunger voted for eating 
 it at once, and I carried the day. We had to eat our 
 dinner, plum pudding included, in a great hurry to be in 
 time for the " fall in." It was hard to chew that pudding, 
 and I only ate a little of it. Having marched down to 
 the trenches, our company was told off for the Twenty-one 
 gun Battery, which then mainly constituted the first 
 parallel of the right attack. Our delightfully Irish assistant- 
 surgeon, dear old Jackson, now Sir Robert Jackson, the 
 cheeriest and best of comrades and least complainmg of 
 
 III 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 men, was on duty with us. It was the first time I had 
 had the luck to be told off for so safe, so comfortable a 
 part of our siege works during any tour of trench duty, 
 and I looked forward to a quiet night. We furnished no 
 working parties, and we were quite safe, being covered 
 by another parallel where the trench guard had to be 
 on the alert all night. No firing was going on anywhere. 
 It was fine b;it very cold, and with the exception of a 
 few sentries here and there to keep a look-out, most of the 
 men sat or lay about, and slept as best they could. It 
 must have been about lo p.m. when I began to feel un- 
 comfortable, and very soon a pain set in that actually 
 bent me double. I imagined I could feel, if not actually 
 hear, each piece I had swallowed of that mfernal pudding 
 rattling in my stomach, as one might expect shot to rattle 
 if one had swallowed a round of canister. The pain was 
 intense ; I was helpless and felt, as the Americans say, 
 " real sick." I stood it for some time, my dear friend 
 Doctor Jackson could do nothing for me ; he said he could 
 be of no use, for he had no brandy or physic of any sort 
 to give me, and that I must go back to camp and get into 
 bed. Go back I had to, and the doctor said he would 
 go with me. He said he might be of use to me on the way 
 to camp, and could be of none to any one in the trenches. 
 So off we started, I being still in great pain. The night 
 was cold and we walked very fast, both anxious to get under 
 the blankets in our respective tents. About a quarter 
 of an hour's sharp walking drove away my pain, and I 
 suddenly found myself as well as ever I was. I stopped 
 and said I would go back. My companion advised me 
 as a doctor not to do so : as a soldier I replied I must go 
 back. He then appealed to me as a friend to go to camp 
 
 112 
 
OUR ASSISTANT SURGEON 
 
 with him as he was of no use in the trenches. I said, 
 "Oh! go home therefore by all means, but back to the 
 trenches I must return." " How can I go back by my- 
 self ? " he answered, " I have no sword nor pistol, and my 
 only weapon of defence is my empty soda-water bottle. I 
 dare not face those wild dogs on the road with it only." 
 But I was obdurate, and he, in an extremely cross humour, 
 had to follow me back to where I had so recently left my 
 company. This best of comrades has since then been with 
 me in many campaigns, and a braver man never lived. 
 He was quite the sort of assistant surgeon one might read 
 of in Charles O'M alley, full of fun and of Irish humour. 
 In after years, when an old man, he married. I was then 
 commanding the forces in Ireland, and he came to tell 
 me his wife was going to have a baby. I said jokingly to 
 him, " You ought to be tried by court-martial " : he 
 replied, " Bedad ! I think I ought to be given the Victoria 
 Cross ! " 
 
 I had never before attempted to make a plum pudding — 
 need I add, that I never tried again ! 
 
 About this time my friend. Captain Barnston, was made 
 Deputy-Assistant-Quarter-Master General at Army Head 
 Quarters. It was a right good selection, for he had graduated 
 at the Senior Department, and all round he was by far the 
 best and ablest officer in our battalion. Unlike nearly all 
 our other captains he was ambitious, and wished to rise 
 in his profession. He had previously been asked to serve 
 as an Assistant Engineer, but had wisely refused, for with 
 his qualifications he was bound sooner or later to be 
 selected for the staff of the Army. He advised me to 
 apply for an appointment of assistant engineer which he 
 had refused. I did so, and it was given to me. My 
 VOL. I. 113 I 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 brother officers were very angry, because in their eyes 
 to leave the regiment was a crime. That was the common 
 feeling then in most corps towards men who forsook 
 regimental for staff work. They were looked upon as 
 men who sought to exchange hard and dangerous trench 
 duty for some safe and easy billet, with every night " in 
 bed." I was extremely glad to obtain this opening, 
 which in no degree removed me from Trench work, and 
 was bound to afford me opportunities for distinction and for 
 coming to know those who ruled the army in the Crimea. 
 The engineers hated having to obtain assistants from 
 the Line, but were obliged to do so because they had not 
 enough officers to do their own work. Looking back 
 at my service with the engineers, I feel that I owe no debt 
 of gratitude to that corps. They regarded us as inter- 
 lopers, and kept the rewards for trench service to them- 
 selves as much as possible. 
 
 114 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 Service in the Trenches as Assistant Engineer 
 
 I JOINED the Engineer Camp the first week of January, 
 1855, and my first day's duty as an Engineer was the 4th 
 of that month. The officer on duty with me was Lieutenant 
 Pratt, R.E. It was a very cold day, with some rain, and a 
 searching wind blew. I had a good overcoat, so kept fairly 
 warm, but Pratt was very badly clad. I forget how it came 
 about, but when on duty near the Danube before the army 
 went to the Crimea he had lost aU his kit, and had afterwards 
 to pick up clothes as best he could. He was of a most 
 uncomplaining disposition, and want and discomfort sat 
 lightly upon him ; nor did he exert himself on his own behalf, 
 as he might have done, in aU such matters. He did not 
 care how he fared as regarded food as long as he had a pipe 
 to smoke and enough tobacco to put into it. Upon this 
 occasion, his body was wrapped in a brown Turkish Grego 
 that was tied round his waist by a cord or leathern strap, 
 and whose hood protected his head well from the cold blast 
 that came to us from the bleak Steppes beyond the Don. 
 He had no gloves, but a pair of very coarse woollen socks 
 supplied their place, and his feet were clad in the rough 
 ammunition boot of the private soldier. He had all the 
 contentment but none of the Ught-heartedness of Mr. Mark 
 Tapley. 
 
 115 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 The only work done during my twelve hours of duty was 
 to clear the drains in the third parallel and to relay some of 
 the gun platform sleepers in " Gordon's Battery." But, as a 
 matter^of fact, we did nothing in our trenches during the 
 winter of 1854-5 beyond feeble efforts made to keep them 
 free from water. 
 
 Amongst the Assistant Engineers at that time was Lieu- 
 tenant, now General Sir Henry Green, of Jacob's Scind 
 Horse, an excellent soldier of the first class, and a cheery 
 comrade. He belonged to a fighting family and main- 
 tained its credit throughout the Crimean War. I am proud 
 to have the privilege of counting him amongst my old soldier 
 friends. He had been educated and taught his work by that 
 most remarkable man. General Jacob, who amongst the many 
 brilliant leaders the Indian army has given our Empire, 
 was one of its ablest soldiers and one of its greatest 
 administrators. 
 
 The Royal Engineer camp of the right attack was on 
 the western side of the Careening Creek Ravine, just above 
 the watering-place and near the windmill which stood to 
 the east of it. Upon reporting myself there to the com- 
 manding Royal Engineer on the last day of 1854, I was 
 ordered to share the tent occupied by Captain Vacher, of 
 the Duke of Wellington's regiment, who was an assistant 
 engineer and a graduate of the Senior Department. He 
 was a demure old-maidish sort of man, who thought much 
 of his health, but he was a thoroughly good-hearted fellow 
 all the same, and upon further acquaintance I came to 
 appreciate him as a friend. He was a most conscientious 
 worker, and very methodical in all he did. He had joined 
 the engineers before the Battle of Inkerman and had con- 
 sequently been two months already doing duty as an 
 
 116 
 
MY TENT COMPANION 
 
 engineer, when I became his tent companion. He gave 
 me much useful information as to the nature of our trench 
 work and of the engineer officers I should have to deal 
 with. In disposition he was my opposite, not caring for 
 horses, nor for sport, nor for active games of any sort. 
 His real place was in an office, and when subsequently 
 serving in the quarter-master-general's office proved him- 
 self invaluable in keeping its records and correspondence 
 in the best possible order. In fact, he preferred sedentary 
 work to out-of-door employment. 
 
 Before I took up my abode in his tent, he had been for 
 one or two nights with a party of sappers in the Tchemaya 
 Valley, engaged, I think, in destroying the wooden bridge 
 by which the Waronzoff road crossed the river near 
 Sebastopol Harbour. He brought back from this ex- 
 pedition a Russian wooden wheelbarrow and some stout 
 planks. The latter served to keep his bed off the ground, 
 a great advantage in our very muddy camp, and the former 
 was used, bit by bit, as firewood in the worst weather, 
 when nothing else that was burnable could be found as fuel. 
 It disappeared gradually, until only the iron axle and 
 tyre of the wheel remained. Then came a dreadful day 
 when we found ourselves with no fuel of any sort to cook 
 our food with. We both looked wistfuUy at the above- 
 mentioned four planks that formed his bed. I said 
 nothing : there was a dead silence in the tent, at the door 
 of which stood our two servants, who asked us what was 
 to be done, whilst their eyes were fixed upon the planks. 
 With a sigh, Vacher condemned one to the flames, and it 
 supplied us all with the means of cooking for many days. 
 Shortly afterwards the weather became still more horrible, 
 our camps were ankle deep in mud and slush, and it 
 
 117 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 snowed and rained in turns all day and night. The world 
 around wore an aspect of absolute wretchedness. Our 
 men looked worn and hungry, and our poor dumb, half- 
 starved ponies stood with their backs to the cold north 
 wind, the very picture of silent misery. I was lying on 
 the floor of our tent with great coat on, and every article 
 of clothing I possessed either upon my body or under 
 my head as a pillow, when my servant with a drawn 
 hungry look upon his face appeared, and announced that he 
 had burned the last splinter of the above-mentioned plank 
 that morning to make our tea, and that no firewood of any 
 sort was to be had anywhere. There were the three 
 remaining planks, but their owner, Vacher, was in the 
 trenches and they constituted his bedstead. What was 
 to be done ? He would require hot food of some sort 
 when he returned from the trenches, but then, ought I 
 without his peimission to rob him of a plank, and so leave 
 him with only two to sleep on ? If not actually a point 
 of law, it was at least a nice question. But I salved my 
 conscience by the mental assurance that had they con- 
 stituted my own bed I would certainly sacrifice one of 
 them to the immediate and very pressing necessity of the 
 moment. I said therefore to my servant, " Take one," 
 as I pointed to Vacher's bed. I confess that my conscience 
 pricked me as I did so, and I felt as if I had committed 
 a serious crime. My chum returned late and in a very 
 hungry condition from the trenches. It had snowed all 
 the day during his tour of duty, and had continued to 
 do so all the way back to camp. He looked somewhat 
 disconsolate and much down on his luck. As he changed 
 into dry clothes, I saw he had become conscious that he 
 must sleep that night upon two planks only, but he said 
 
 ii8 
 
ASSISTANT ENGINEERS 
 
 nothing, and I lacked the courage to tell him what I had 
 done. I ought to add in self -justification that I had no 
 bedstead or planks to sleep on myself, or I should have 
 burnt them before I burnt my chum's. I slept on a 
 waterproof sheet with a place hollowed out for my hip 
 beneath it. But, thank Heaven. I have always had the 
 inestimable faculty of sleeping at all hours of the day or 
 night, and under even the most sleep-killing circumstances. 
 We had little conversation that evening, and I re-read 
 my last home letters and scraps of some old newspapers 
 in the dim light of a very bad candle. I could have it in 
 any position near where I lay, for my candlestick was a 
 Russian bayonet picked up on the battlefield of Inkerman. 
 It required no table, for I stuck it in the damp floor of 
 the tent wherever I found the light shone best. That night, 
 I fully realized the truth of Sancho Panza's saying, that 
 " sleep covers you up like a cloak." 
 
 Captain Vacher was soon selected for the quarter-master- 
 general's staff, and left me for Army Head Quarters. I 
 cannot say with " bag and baggage," but I may truth- 
 fully say with aU his baggage in one bag. 
 
 My second chum in the engineer camp was a heutenant 
 of the 64th Regiment, a most genial Irishman named 
 Sheehy. He spoke with a Cork brogue and was a fine 
 specimen of the brave race to which he belonged. He 
 was an ugly-looking fellow without a moustache, with 
 prominent eyes whose pupils were very small ; but he 
 was blessed with a laughing face and a comical expression, 
 and the lightest of cheerful, honest hearts. The best 
 of friends, of feUows and of comrades, indifferent to danger 
 of aU sorts, and a good rider, he was an amusing contrast 
 morally and physically to my staid companion whose place 
 
 119 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 he took in the tent. His regiment was in India, but he 
 had come to the Crimea on the chance of finding some- 
 thing to do, he did not care what, as long as he could see 
 some fighting. The day after he landed he walked to the 
 trenches, where he soon lost his way. He wore an oil- 
 skin cover over his forage cap, so that without asking him 
 who he was, or examining the buttons of his shell jacket, 
 one could not discover the regiment he belonged to. As 
 sooa as he asked an officer to point out the road to camp 
 he attracted attention, and aroused mistrust. We had 
 recently grown suspicious of strangers, so he was asked 
 his name and regiment. His name was not, I believe, 
 uncommon in certain parts of Ireland, but when he said 
 he belonged to the 64th Regiment, which did rot form 
 part of the Crimean army, misgivings on the part of all 
 present feU upon him at once. General Codrington was 
 in the trenches at the time, to whom the matter was re- 
 ferred. The most polite and charming of polished gen- 
 tlemen he listened to Sheehy's story, and then, with many 
 apologies, said he must ask that he should accompany 
 him to camp. Sheehy strode away on his long legs beside 
 the general's well known grey pony, and they had a pleasant 
 talk. I think Sheehy had done one term with the Senior 
 Department, and was thus able to converse easily on 
 military subjects. He was fortunately able to find a 
 man in camp who had been there with him. In a few 
 days he was appointed an assistant engineer in the right 
 attack, and though he knew nothing about the work he 
 was useful under those who did. He was told off to share 
 my tent, and we soon became great friends, for no more 
 genial comrade could be found. Peace be to the ashes of 
 this loyal Irish Catholic, the firmest of friends, the most 
 
 120 
 
TRENCH DUTY AS AN ENGINEER 
 
 daring and enthusiastic of soldiers. He died of fever on the 
 road to Cawnpore early in the Great Mutiny, having joined 
 some irregular cavalry corps in the hope of getting to the 
 front, \^^len in Oudh, I received a letter of an old date 
 trom him some considerable time after I had heard of his 
 death. In it he advised me to join the regiment he was 
 serving with, as he said, " it was sure to have plenty of 
 fighting." Would that every man who then held the 
 Queen's commission was as enthusiastic a soldier, as in- 
 different to danger and as careless of his own life as that 
 gallant soul was. 
 
 As a rule the engineer officer's ordinary tour of duty 
 meant a day or a night mostly spent in that part of the 
 trenches which was nearest to the enemy. During the 
 winter months we made no progress with our siege works 
 at all, and were only too glad to keep our batteries and 
 parallels tolerably clear of snow, mud and water. But the 
 fact that we spent our day or night on duty as close as possi- 
 ble to the Russian works made our employment more dan- 
 gerous than if we were doing duty with a regiment, the 
 infantry trench guard being distributed throughout the 
 works generally, including many spots where one ran 
 little or no risk from shot or shell. The artillery remained 
 in their batteries which, being at that time exclusively 
 in the first parallel, were always safe from sorties, being 
 well protected by the infantry guard of the second parallel. 
 During the night there could be no artillery fire upon 
 them, and as the artillery neither made their batteries 
 nor kept them in repair, their nights during the winter were 
 spent in safety, and when possible in sleep. Of course 
 the same remark applies also to the naval brigade who 
 worked the guns in some of the batteries of our first 
 
 121 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 parallel. The serious time for the gunner, whether of the 
 Royal Artillery or Royal Navy, was during the " bom- 
 bardments," when both always lost heavily. At other 
 times they had an easy life of it throughout the siege, much 
 easier than the infantry, and still more so than the engineers, 
 as all our boyaux, batteries and other works were made 
 between sunset and sunrise the following morning. The 
 night was the dangerous time for sorties, but none ever 
 penetrated as far as our first parallel. During the winter 
 there was but very little firing from either side. We were 
 all too busy in trying to keep our works and trenches fairly 
 drained, no easy matter in the snow and rain of that season. 
 
 I recall many events of my eight months' constant trench 
 work with much pleasure. I was on duty the day Lord 
 Raglan brought General de la Marmora to visit our right 
 attack, through which I guided them. The Sardinian 
 general had a charmingly genial manner, and from the 
 questions he asked me, I soon discovered he had a good 
 knowledge of fortification, and understood the besieger's 
 art well. So very few of our generals then knew any- 
 thing of such matters, and indeed of anything be- 
 longing to their profession beyond barrack-yard drill, 
 that it was a rare, a pleasant event to meet with an 
 educated commander like La Marmora. He spoke English, 
 and struck me as being all that one expects a well-born 
 English gentleman to be. Like Lord Raglan, he had much 
 of the refined and stately manner of the old school about 
 him, and with all that courtesy of "deportment so rarely met 
 with in these days of undue familiarity and of slipshod 
 address. In fact, he was a sort of Italian replica of our 
 own commander, and both men looked soldiers all over. 
 
 There was nothing but desultory firing going on whilst 
 
 132 
 
A NIGHT ADVENTURE 
 
 they were in the trenches, but one gun-shell struck the 
 parapet of the third parallel in front of and very near us, 
 and hopping over it, burst as it did so. I watched the 
 faces of both closely at the moment, but neither was in 
 the least degree disturbed by it. 
 
 In camp upon the evening of June i6. Major Camp- 
 bell; of the Cornwall Light Infantry, then the 46th 
 Regiment, Captain De Moleyns, R.E., and myself were 
 discussing the prospects of the assault which we knew 
 to be imminent. The width, and especially the depth, 
 of the Redan ditch was a prominent point in our con- 
 versation, and we dwelt upon the fact that we knew little 
 about the ground immediately in front of that work. 
 We freely condemned our want of enterprise in such 
 matters and the little encouragement that was given all 
 ranks to undertake any examination of it. I don't remem- 
 ber by which of ' us the suggestion was made, but we 
 three there and then decided to try our luck, and by 
 crawling out on hands and knees to the abattis, and if 
 possible through it to the edge of the ditch, to ascertain 
 its dimensions. We provided ourselves each with a 
 long string to plumb the depth of the ditch should any 
 of us succeed in reaching it. We told no one in camp 
 of our intentions, but about midnight were at our places 
 in the most advanced parallel. I was in the centre and my 
 companions one on each side at some fifty or more yards to 
 my right and left. We took off our swords but each 
 carried his revolver in hand, having agreed not to fire 
 except in self-defence. We crawled quietly over the 
 trench parapet, exposing ourselves as little as possible, 
 having told the officers commanding companies in the 
 vicinity of our intention, so that we might not be fired 
 
 123 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 upon by our own men. I soon lost sight of my fellow 
 adventurers as I crawled along very slowly, and with the 
 least possible noise. The night was by no means dark, 
 though no moon was visible, but at times I held my breath 
 as I peered around into the dark and listened for any sound, 
 such even as the disturbance of a loose stone would give, 
 but there was none. No voices were to be heard in front, 
 and no Russian sentry to be seen upon the sky-line. 
 "Where are their sentries?" I kept thinking. "Lying 
 down," I assumed ; but had they seen us ? Were they 
 watching, and perhaps inwardly chuckling at our foUy 
 and waiting like the spider in his corner to pounce suddenly 
 upon us when well within their net ? Forward I crept very 
 slowly, bit by bit over the rocky ground well scored aU 
 over by our guns, and deeply pitted with shell holes, but 
 covered here and there with reedy grass. The abattis 
 was at last close in front, and I could see its weird branches 
 at places against the sky-line. My pulse went quicker 
 than usual : I imagined I could hear my heart beat, and 
 at such moments lay prone to steady myself. I wanted 
 three eyes, one to peer into the dark unknown in my 
 immediate front, the others to watch to right and left 
 where I knew my fellow travellers were engaged as I was. 
 
 At last, I heard a noise to one side of where I was slowly 
 crawling forward, scanning the ground as I went with the 
 utmost intentness. I saw upon the sky-line to one side 
 of me a man suddenly stand up and run at fuU speed for 
 our trenches. There was no sound of any voice, no noise 
 but what he made in running, no other indication of any 
 enemy being near, and no shot was fired. I knew it was 
 one of my friends, and being quite sure that neither would 
 bolt thus, except to escape capture, I felt certain he had 
 
 124 
 
RUSSIAN SENTRIES WIDE AWAKE 
 
 come upon some Russian group of outlying sentries. After 
 a little halt, and seeing no other figure in any direction 
 round me, I resumed my forward and very slow progress. 
 As I recall the events of this unimportant and as it proved 
 unsuccessful adventure, which could only have covered 
 a small section of an hour, every minute it took from start 
 to finish comes before me as if it had been an operation 
 of some consequence, and had extended over some hours. 
 To hurry the pace would have been to discover ourselves 
 to the enemy, so I resumed my crawling, wriggling and 
 very slow advance. Before long, I saw my remaining 
 comrade run back also ; I cannot say that after that I 
 retained much hope of ever reaching the Redan counter- 
 scarp, but I thought if possible I might get near it and 
 so learn something of what the ground immediately in 
 its front was like. " Nothing venture, nothing win," 
 I thought, so after a sufficient pause I pushed forward 
 again at a very slow and still more cautious pace. I began 
 to think I was doing well, there being nothing to indicate 
 the presence of any one in my immediate neighbourhood, 
 when in the twinkhng of an eye, up there popped upon the 
 sky-line some two or three heads in front of me, and as far 
 as I could judge not more than about ten paces off. My 
 reader, what would you have done in such a position ? 
 I ran for my life in the most undignified fashion, and was 
 soon safe, though breathless, in our advanced parallel. 
 The only useful result of our unsuccessful venture was 
 the assurance we gained that the Russians kept good 
 watch and ward over the ground in their immediate front. 
 AU three rode back to camp in bad humour, disappointed 
 in our hearts, and told no one what we had been about 
 that midnight. 
 
 125 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 On Duty in the Trenches as an Engineer 
 Officer, 1855 
 
 I HAVE often been asked what one did when a shell feU 
 unpleasantly close. The safest thing to do is to fall 
 flat untn it bursts. This one always made " the travelling 
 gentleman," and even the visitor from the cavalry camp 
 do, when taking him round our siege works. It was a cruel 
 amusement, for the terror of death generally possessed 
 their souls until the infernal shell had burst. But we had 
 extremely little to amuse us, and were often much bored 
 by these sightseers. I have seen this little game played 
 ofL upon a visitor even when no shell had fallen anywhere 
 near, for the mere devilment-sake of seeing the effect it 
 would have upon him. But the officers who were most 
 accustomed to shell fire, such as the Engineers in the right 
 attack, seldom took much trouble about their own bodies. 
 Unless the offending shell had fallen disagreeably close, 
 one stood and faced it, being well able to see and to dodge 
 the great pieces into which it invariably burst. (I never 
 picked up nor saw a very small splinter of any large mortar 
 shell.) This, however, required the quickness of a prac- 
 tised eye. But, writing from my own experience of those 
 with whom I was closely associated during the siege, we at 
 last became too indifferent to all species of fire to take any 
 
 126 
 
ON DUTY IN THE TRENCHES 
 
 great special precautions against it. Perhaps it arose 
 from a sort of callous laziness. As regards my own feel- 
 ings, I don't think I ever expected to live through the 
 siege after I had fuUy realized what were my duties as 
 an Engineer of&cer in the right attack. When, as an Infantry 
 officer, it was your day or night for duty in the trenches, 
 it was quite a chance where you were sent to in them. 
 Many parts of our siege works were safe when compared 
 with others. I am sure, however, that when the captain of 
 a company wished for a safe billet during his tour of duty, 
 it was for the sake of his men and not in the interests of 
 his own vile body. We all had an intense horror of losing 
 our comrades in the ranks, the why and the wherefore it 
 IS not difficult to analyze, for every right-minded of&cer 
 was deeply attached to them. But to look after his sappers 
 was not the first consideration with the engineer officer ; 
 it was to push the siege forward, and consequently one 
 never had a safe billet whilst on engineer duty in the 
 trenches of our right attack. In nine out of every ten hours 
 of duty, the engineer was in the post of greatest danger 
 — the head of the sap or somewhere in the most advanced 
 batteries was where his duties usually required him to be. 
 During the bombardments he had general charge of some 
 line of batteries, and he was responsible for keeping the 
 embrasures in serviceable order. This was no child's play 
 during daylight in any of our bombardments, for the 
 moment a man appeared in an embrasure to repair it, the 
 enemy's batteries bearing upon the battery at once con- 
 centrated their fire upon that embrasure. 
 
 There was one officer amongst us, Lieutenant Murray, 
 afterwards killed, who was remarkable for his imperturbable 
 coolness. Helping him upon one occasion during a bom- 
 
 127 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 bardment in repairing ' the cheek of an embrasure which 
 the enemy's fire had just destroyed, another round shot 
 entered the other cheek, and so covered him with its ddbris. 
 The only notice he took of the occurrence was to shake the 
 dust from the tails of his frock coat, whilst he went on with his 
 work without a pause, as if the event was one of hourly 
 occurrence and of no consequence. I never saw or heard 
 of an engineer officer asking a private to undertake any 
 service of danger n which he did not himself take more 
 than his fair share. In connexion with the repair of our 
 batteries whUst a bombardment was in full swing, I was 
 one day at work mending an embrasure with some one else, 
 I forget whom. I was in the act of raising the sandbag 
 revetment over the gabions in an embrasure with a hand- 
 spike as a lever in order to enable my friend to msert a filled 
 sandbag, when a round shot tore through that cheek of 
 the embrasure. In a second I found myself sprawling on 
 the gun-platform within the embrasure, whilst the hand- 
 spike I had been using, sent flying with considerable 
 impetus, struck a man's leg, bowling him over also and 
 hurting him seriously. 
 
 The engineer officers who were recent arrivals from 
 England often entered the trenches for the first time with 
 very high and mighty notions regarding their superior 
 knowledge as to how the engineer work should be done. 
 I was one evening detailed for duty with a captain of that 
 corps just from Chatham. We were to mark out the 
 emplacement for a new battery, and he was anxious to 
 begin before the darkness of night had shrouded us from 
 view. I persuaded him to wait. He did so for some time, 
 but at last, impatient to be at work, he would brook no 
 longer delay, and, scoffing at all danger from hostile riflemen, 
 
 128 i 
 
BATTERY BUILT OF SANDBAGS 
 
 and against my advice, he insisted upon beginning. We 
 had not proceeded more than a few paces from the friendly 
 cover of a parallel, when a volley of rifle buUets was poured 
 amongst us from some neighbouring rifle pits. One bullet 
 went through the stiff top of my light infantry forage cap, 
 and another through my short loose coat from one side 
 to the other, uncomfortably near my backbone. My 
 energetic but obstinate R.E. captain — as indeed we aU did 
 — bustled rapidly back in a very undignified fashion to the 
 shelter of the trench we had just foolishly left. Not long 
 afterwards he was badly wounded, and I think lost a leg. 
 
 I often saw horrible wounds inflicted, when men were 
 hterally torn in pieces by shot and shell. I think it was 
 during the second or third bombardment that I was one 
 day in charge of No. 14 battery of six or eight guns, in 
 our second parallel, which I had taken part in building not 
 long before. It was, I think, the only battery that had 
 been constructed in one night during the siege. This 
 achievement was accomplished by preparing in the neigh- 
 bouring boyaux during many days and nights before the 
 enormous amoimt of filled sandbags it would take to com- 
 plete a battery of the size required. With these fiUed 
 sandbags the battery was, I may say, entirely built during 
 one night, and when day broke, great must have been the 
 astonishment of the Russians at its sudden mushroom 
 growth. In the next bombardment it received special 
 attention from the enemy's guns, until at last some two or 
 three merlons — that part of the parapet between every 
 two guns — were razed level with the soles of the embrasures. 
 The enemy thereupon turned more guns upon that part of 
 it, as the gunners there were fully exposed from the hips 
 upwards. In the space of a few minutes one of their shot 
 
 VOL. I. 129 K 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 cut a gunner in two, without, I suppose, hitting the spinal 
 cord. The result was that the arms of the trunk kept 
 moving about as if the poor feUow was in the most terrible 
 agony. It was a ghastly, an uncanny sight. The artiUery 
 captain in command, a real good man, dazed, like myself, 
 by the horror of the spectacle, said excitedly, " What 
 shall I do ? Shall I put him out of pain ? " But before 
 a doctor could be found the poor fellow had ceased to move. 
 I shudder as I now, in cold blood, think of that awful 
 occurrence ; but the doctor, when he arrived, said that 
 although he was able to fhng his arms wildly about for 
 what seemed to those standing by as a horribly long time, 
 the helpless sufferer must already have lost all power of 
 feeling. 
 
 I must not quit the subject of this quickly built sandbag 
 battery without mentioning that when the mode of its 
 construction became known at the headquarters of the 
 Royal Engineers in the Crimea, an angry " minute " was 
 communicated to those responsible for it. Attention was 
 called to the fact that sandbags were scarce and valuable 
 — I believe the Black Sea fleet was then supplying them in 
 large quantities — and that we had expended upon this one 
 battery alone more of them than had been used in Lord 
 Wellington's siege of Burgos ! Few of us cared how much 
 they cost the country, for we knew how far their use upon 
 the occasion complained of had gone towards the saving of 
 life. We all felt sure that had the Duke of Wellington been 
 alive then, he would have been the first to approve of the 
 plan adopted for building the battery in question. But 
 Red Tape is a terrible disease. 
 
 Our sailors who served the guns in the Twenty-one Gun 
 Battery — commonly known as " Gordon's Battery " — were 
 
 130 
 
THE NAVAL BRIGADE 
 
 wont to describe in very matter-of-fact words the most 
 horrible events of a " hot day " there. A comrade of mine, 
 an assistant engineer, told me as follows. He was in that 
 battery during one of our bombardments when the blue- 
 jacket relief arrived, and overheard one sailor ask another 
 where his messmate " Bill " was. The answer, given in 
 the deep conventional " lower-deck " voice, was : " Bill ? 
 Why, there's his bloody pipe and there's his bloody liver." 
 Poor Bill had been knocked to pieces by a shell during the 
 day. 
 
 What splendid gunners they were ! always cheery and 
 always ready to lend a hand in any job, and that " hand " 
 was sure to mean effective help. Their leader. Captain 
 Sir WilUam Peel, was in many ways one of the most re- 
 markable men I ever served with. We often met on duty 
 in the twenty-one gun battery, almost all the guns in which 
 were served by the Navy. One day, in fairly quiet times, 
 I was walking in it with him up and down in true quarter- 
 deck fashion, when we both heard the peculiar " pitch- 
 ata-wich-ata " noise m the air which bespoke the near 
 approach of a large mortar-shell. We stopped to watch it, 
 and to our horror saw it fall immediately in front of us, 
 upon the entrance to one of our largest powder magazines, 
 and not five paces off ; the shell burst as it did so. Strange 
 as it may seem, I well remember how amused I was at the 
 moment by the sudden harlequin head-over-heels fashion 
 in which the magazine-man came rolling out into the battery 
 from the smoking ruins. The sandbags and apparently 
 the passage timbers had been set on fire, and in an instant 
 a volume of smoke, laden with dust from the explosion, 
 issued from the interior. It was an appalling moment, 
 and it must have seemed the end of this world to any of us 
 
 131 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 who still retained the power to reason at all. We were not 
 actually dead, but horror had for the second of time, as it 
 were, kOled our thinking faculties. We were face to face 
 with death, immediate death. I have often rubbed 
 shoulders with that mocking monster, but I may without 
 boasting say that upon no other occasion which I can re- 
 member has he ever " cow'd my better part of man." But 
 Peel was " aU there," for in much less time than it takes 
 me to tell this story, I saw him dive into the smoking 
 magazine. This action on his part made men of us aU in an 
 instant, and it was not long before every spark of fire there 
 had been well trampled out. I do not know, I cannot tell 
 from experience, whether courage or cowardice is the more 
 quickly contagious. But this I do know, that of all horrible 
 sights, that of a man in action who exhibits a want of nerve 
 and daring is the worst. Thank heaven, it is a disease 
 from the effects of which the British gentleman does not 
 require any sort of inoculation to preserve him. 
 
 One evening about the middle of March, 1855, I started 
 from the Royal Engineer camp for night duty in the trenches. 
 I rode as far as the Middle Ravine picket, and walked up 
 the trench leading from it to the right of " Gordon's " or 
 " the twenty-one gun battery." There I met Captain 
 Craigie, R.E., awaiting my arrival to relieve him, as he had 
 been in the trenches throughout the day, and I was to relieve 
 him and be on duty until the following morning. He told 
 me what he had been working at, and we had a conversation 
 upon the work to be done during the night. We bade one 
 another good-evening, and he started for camp, down hiU 
 towards our picket in the ravine. The Russians at the 
 moment were busy sheUing Gordon's battery, from very 
 large mortars, and I stood there for some time watching 
 
 132 
 
A FATAL SHELL 
 
 their practice. One that burst high in the air attracted 
 my attention, and with those about me I laughed at the 
 badness of the enemy's fuzes. In a few minutes a sapper 
 non-commissioned officer came running up the hill to where 
 I was standing. Out of breath when he reached me, he 
 jerked out the words that Captain Craigie had just been 
 killed. Upon reaching the picket he had halted to light 
 his pipe, and was in the act of doing so from the pipe of 
 another man, when a great piece of the mortar shell at 
 whose premature bursting I had just been laughing struck 
 and Idlled him on the instant. What a curious chance ! 
 for we were accustomed to regard that outpost as quite 
 safe from aU fire. The soldier from whose pipe he was 
 taking a light, and whose face was close to his, escaped 
 unhurt. Such is siege work ; death often comes to men in 
 what are regarded as the safest corners. 
 
 It is no easy matter to describe General Gordon, then 
 Captain J. W. Gordon, after whom was named the Twenty- 
 one Gun Battery in the first parallel of the right attack, of 
 which he was the commanding engineer, and immediately 
 under whom I served through the siege. He was a silent 
 man, and I don't think it could be said that he was ever 
 very intimate with any one in the Crimea. I subsequently 
 made a long voyage with him to Nova Scotia, and during 
 its progress he kept to himself very much ; always civil 
 and cordial in his greetings he preferred to walk the deck 
 by himself. It was the same in the Crimea, and he struck 
 me as one bowed down with the weight of a sorrow he would 
 mention to none. A deeply religious man in whom danger 
 apparently excited neither pleasure nor repugnance, he 
 seemed only to distinguish between a safe position or an 
 extremely perilous one as he would -notice any slight 
 
 133 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 change in the weather of a fine sunny day. Uninfluenced 
 himself by his surroundings, he was nevertheless well aware 
 of how much the example shown by a man in his position 
 affected those around him. He knew how infectious 
 courage was, and how much any exhibition of contempt 
 for personal danger braced the nerves and steadied the 
 heads of those less gifted with masculine daring than he 
 was. He was a man in a hundred. During a luU in our 
 siege operations, one saUor was overheard saying to another 
 in a battery, " I haven't seen old Gordon here lately." 
 " No," answered his shipmate, " the fire ain't hot enough 
 for that old beggar just now." 
 
 In how many different forms do both courage and weak- 
 ness of heart show themselves in time of danger. Many a 
 brave man is for the moment dazed by the horror of what 
 seems inevitable destruction in the next instant of time. 
 But give him even one minute, and he will so puU himself 
 together as to act with weU directed bravery. I could 
 write a long theme upon the effect of great and unexpected 
 danger upon even brave and determined men. The good 
 that is within us varies much in quality as well as quantity, 
 and is called into play with a force which depends much 
 upon the natural disposition and attributes of each man. 
 Each of us is affected differently in manner and in measure 
 by external circumstances. And so it is with our nerves 
 and the control we all strive to exercise over their vagaries. 
 
 On the night of Maixh 22, 1855, the enemy made a deter- 
 mined sortie upon what was eventually our third parallel. 
 They drove off our trench guard from the greater part of it, 
 and an Albanian who was with the sortie was bayoneted 
 as he fired his pistol into a magazine of small arms ammu- 
 nition. Major John Gordon, as he then was, had neither 
 
 134 
 
MAJOR JOHN GORDON 
 
 pistol nor sword with him, but standing behind a neigh- 
 bouring traverse, defended the passage round it by stones 
 hurled at any Russian who tried to pass that way. In the 
 act of doing so, whilst his arm was drawn back to throw a 
 stone, a musket buUet went through the upper and also the 
 lower part of his arm. It was he who subsequently exer- 
 cised so great an influence over Charley Gordon, commonly 
 known as Chinese Gordon, but there was no blood relation- 
 ship between them. I often heard the following pretty 
 legend about him ; I cannot pledge myself for its truth, 
 but I can say with all confidence that the main outlines of 
 the story accord exactly with my estimate of his character. 
 He, being an eldest son, had inherited a property that made 
 him independent. He feU in love, and upon proposing 
 for the lady, learnt from her that she was in love with his 
 younger brother. He forthwith made over his possessions 
 to that brother so that he might marry and make her happy. 
 
 We heard of the Czar Nicholas' death early in March, 
 1855, and Lord Raglan sent the news under a flag of truce 
 to the Governor of Sebastopol, but he refused to believe it. 
 A few days later we had a short cessation of hostilities to 
 bury the dead lately killed during a sortie. In a conversa- 
 tion with the Russian officer commanding the sentries placed 
 on the enemy's side to mark the limit beyond which we 
 might not pass, one of our officers referred to this eVent, 
 but the Russian would not have it, declaring it was im- 
 possible, for God would not, he said, thus afflict Holy Russia 
 in the midst of so great a war. 
 
 I have often been asked my opinion as to the capabilities 
 of the Royal Engineer of&cers with whom I served before 
 Sebastopol. I only knew well those of the right attack, 
 and regarding them I give my opinion here for what it is 
 
 135 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 worth as an outsider who had the privilege of serving with 
 them in the greatest and most remarkable siege the corps 
 had ever been engaged in. Whilst the same regimental 
 spirit influences them now as in 1854-5, I think they are 
 infinitely better and more practically educated than they 
 were in the Sebastopol epoch. We had several stupid 
 men amongst those who served in the Crimea, who could 
 not, I think, have passed the examinations now required 
 for entrance into that corps. Their practical and general 
 education is now much better than it was in the middle 
 of the last century. There were a few, a very few, 
 idle fellows amongst them, as there always must be in all 
 professions. But taking them all round, it would, I am 
 certain, be impossible to find any body of officers more 
 devoted to their duties or more indifferent to the serious 
 dangers those siege duties entailed. We assistant engineers 
 who had not been educated at Woolwich or trained at Chat- 
 ham were wont to smile at their airs of assumed mental 
 superiority over the ofiicers of all other branches. Few of 
 them knew much of the world, and most of them had been 
 so long employed in the repair of barracks at home and 
 abroad, that their mihtary education whilst in the Army 
 had not amounted to much. Indeed, I always regarded 
 most of them as men who had been rendered small minded 
 by their training and through their little knowledge of the 
 world, and who were not well educated outside their own 
 duties. They were in, but not of, the Army; they wore its 
 uniform, but, until the Siege of Sebastopol, few of them 
 had ever done a soldier's duty. I did not know one of any 
 eminent ability or of the great breadth of mind and 
 general capacity which distinguished that eminent soldier, 
 that sagacious adviser, General Sir John Burgoyne. In 
 
 136 
 
ROYAL ENGINEER OFFICERS 
 
 fact, I don't think they were by any means as clever as they 
 thought they were. All of them had, however, received 
 what was then a good practical training at the Chatham 
 School of Military Engineering. None of them had had 
 any previous war experience of any kind, and were too 
 bound down by the historical precedents they had been 
 taught at Woolwich Academy. In all difficulties, I may 
 say upon every occasion, each of them apparently said to 
 himself, " Our officers did so-and-so at such-and-such a 
 siege in the Peninsula War," and he shaped his course ac- 
 cordingly. None seemed to think it was desirable to reason 
 out each particular problem as it arose according to the 
 commonsense exigencies of the moment ; they ransacked 
 their brains for precedents instead. I believe aU would 
 have done better had they never read Jones' Sieges in 
 Spain, and had not that book been reverenced as the 
 sapper's " Book of the Law." But if our engineers were 
 old-fashioned, so were our generals. No new hght, no 
 useful gleam of imagination or originality, ever illuminated 
 whatever may have been their reasoning powers. Never 
 was any great siege more stupidly planned throughout. 
 We floundered along upon archaic principles, without even 
 a Pallas to inspire us with originality enough to invent a 
 wooden horse on modem principles that might open for us 
 a passage into the city. 
 
 During the siege one or two engineer officers were taken 
 prisoners. A curious circumstance is connected with one 
 of them. Lieutenant James, who was captured the first week 
 of July, 1855. He sent a letter to camp under a flag of 
 truce, asking that his clothes, etc., etc., might be sent to 
 him. All communications under flags of truce, I should 
 mention, were made at sea by the war ships of the besiegers 
 
 137 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 and the besieged. In the little note which thus reached 
 us from him there was a line scored out with ink marks, 
 which of course gave rise to much speculation upon our 
 part. A sharp fellow amongst us suggested that if we 
 painted the obliterated line with lime-juice, the last made 
 ink strokes would come out first, and we should be thus able, 
 for a few minutes at least, to see what Lieutenant James 
 had originally written. This was done with great success, 
 and we read the erased words, which were as follows : " I 
 was taken to see General Todleben " (the great Russian 
 engineer who immortalized himself by his splendid defence of 
 the place) ; " he was in bed, having been recently wounded 
 in the leg." This was the first intimation we received of 
 this fact, and showed us how anxious the enemy were to 
 keep it from us. I wish we had had a Todleben to direct 
 our siege operations, even though it had been necessary to 
 convey him in a Sedan chair through our batteries and 
 parallels daily ! 
 
 In the winter of 1854-5 I made frequent visits to Bala- 
 clava to purchase food during that first never-to-be-forgotten 
 period of misery. How curious, how melancholy, was 
 much of what I saw upon that dreary track of mud we called 
 a road. How grotesque were many of the figures I often 
 passed upon it, how sad were others ! Here and there a 
 British soldier staggering under the incumbrance of much 
 warm clothing that must have been designed for a giant, 
 whilst by far the greater number of our men were in sorry, 
 worn-out old great coats that afforded them very httle 
 warmth. AU had a care-worn look that bespoke overwork, 
 insufficient food, and incipient disease. Who that saw it 
 can ever forget the appearance of our men upon fatigue 
 duty whom one met there daily. My heart was often 
 
 138 
 
THE ROAD TO BALACLAVA 
 
 torn as I saw the starved mules and horses similarly em- 
 ployed, their drivers striving to keep them on their feet as 
 they crossed the deep mud holes that abounded every- 
 where. In the midst of unavoidable misery, as also when 
 struggling with danger, what an uncomplaining fellow is the 
 British soldier ! He was always energetic ; either cursing 
 his mule that had fallen from want of strength to drag itself 
 through the Kadakoi quagmire, or laughing at his comrade 
 who had stumbled into some deep rut. What saddened 
 one most upon that road were the long strings of sick and 
 wounded being conveyed from camp to the hospital ships 
 in the harbour. Few men now remain to tell the story of 
 that first, that unlucky winter. Many of its incidents have 
 faded from my memory, but were I to live for ever I should 
 never forget the manly, uncomplaining resignation of our 
 soldiers throughout its appalling miseries. 
 
 The poor Turkish private was a still more melancholy 
 figure in that " slough of despond." Starvation and want 
 had reduced him to little more than a skeleton hidden 
 away under the hood of his reddish-brown coloured grego. 
 No one apparently took any interest in his health, comfort, 
 or welfare. He looked the picture of resignation, accepting 
 the position not only as his fate, the decree of Allah, but as 
 if there was nothing in it to occasion surprise. 
 
 On that road one met all sorts and conditions of men, 
 and the French army was always fairly represented there. 
 First and foremost came that best of all cor-ps d''elite, the 
 Zouaves, daredevil fellows who in so many of their charac- 
 teristics resembled our own soldiers. Infinitely superior 
 in physique and spirit to the ordinary French conscript, 
 they fraternized with their red-coated allies and did not 
 conceal their contempt for the " Johnny Crapauds " of their 
 
 139 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 own Line regiments. As I bent my way to our little port 
 in search of provisions, I often met parties of the picturesque 
 Chasseurs d'Afrique on their grey barbs, and also the brown- 
 skinned, fighting Algerian sepoys of Louis Napoleon. How 
 the little vagabond Greek shopkeeper from Stamboul and 
 the Jew from Alexandria used to fleece us at Balaclava ! 
 Many of them became very rich. As a rule I treated myself 
 to a pint of so-called champagne upon these visits, paying 
 half a sovereign for this refreshing and fizzing foreign 
 beverage — whatever it consisted of. The one great shop- 
 keeper of Balaclava must have made a large fortune at 
 that time from the British officer. 
 
 As the winter wore on, our army grew daily smaller, and 
 
 the men who remained seemed to have lost their usual 
 
 light-heartedness. The fun and chaff our men generally 
 
 delight in was then seldom to be heard from their lips. A 
 
 saddened look that betokened low spirits, the result of 
 
 privation and of over-work, had settled upon too many 
 
 faces. What killed our men most was the want of firewood. 
 
 At first the high bush that covered the field of Inkerman 
 
 supplied them with ample material for cooking. Up to 
 
 about the begiiming of February our fatigue parties dug 
 
 up the roots of this bush, and, when dried a little, it partially 
 
 supplied our wants. Our billhooks and pickaxes were, 
 
 however, made of such miserable metal that they were 
 
 poor implements for such work. Why do we always supply 
 
 our army with tools of a very inferior quality ? If the 
 
 soldiers who have to use them were allowed to buy them also, 
 
 we should have as good axes and shovels as other armies. 
 
 The consequence of our lack of firewood was, that we all 
 
 soon began to eat our salt pork and red navy-junk in a 
 
 partially uncooked state, and this brought on diarrhoea, 
 
 140 
 
OUR ILL-FED RANK AND FILE 
 
 which too frequently ended in dysentery, that scourge from 
 which nearly all of us suffered and which kiUed so many. 
 
 But I never felt any sort of pity for myself or for any 
 ofdcer in the army. We could always afford to buy food. 
 A trip to Balaclava meant, as I have mentioned, a pint of 
 fizzing liquid and plenty to eat. A box of sardines kept one 
 alive for a day. But how different it was with our men ! 
 They had no half-sovereign to pay for food ; they had no 
 change of clothes when they returned to camp from the 
 trenches ; they had no beds to lie on at night, not even when 
 grievously iU. Poor gallant fellows, how nobly, how un- 
 complainingly they died ! 
 
 In the Government that sent our men to the Crimea there 
 was no soldier : all its members were political gentlemen. 
 I trust that in the next world they may be the slaves of the 
 noble spirits who died of want before Sebastopol through 
 their ignorance of war, of its wants, and of its stupendous 
 difficulties. 
 
 During one of my very first visits to Balaclava, as I 
 neared that little port I was stopped by a well dressed 
 merchant seaman, who wanted to know if he were on the 
 right road for our camps. I said " Yes," and we had a little 
 conversation, as I endeavoured to explain how he could best 
 find his way there. I said, " Those are a good pair of long 
 boots you have on. Will you seU them ? " His answer 
 was, " Yes, I gave thirty shillings for them as I was leaving 
 Liverpool, and you may have them for three pounds." I 
 asked the same question about the new and very good 
 warm-looking pea-jacket he wore. He was quite wUling 
 to take four pounds for it, having paid half that sum for it. 
 I said, " Take it off, and the boots too." He did so, and I 
 handed him over seven pounds. I wish that all the money 
 
 141 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 I ever possessed had been as well, as usefully expended: 
 He did not see Sebastopol that day ! 
 
 In the spring I sketched and carefully examined the 
 ground where our troops had stood and fought on that 
 Guy Fawkes' day at Inkerman. I fully realized how nearly 
 we had been destroyed, and admired more than ever the 
 splendid fighting quaUties of our regimental officers and of 
 the rank and file they commanded. Indeed, my oft re- 
 peated study of this battle on the heights where it was 
 fought, made me feel prouder than ever of our race, though 
 fuUy convinced that our affairs were so abominably mis- 
 managed upon the occasion that the Russians ought to have 
 utterly destroyed us. All who that day saw our men fight 
 were loud in praise of their regimental spirit and of 
 the devotion of our officers to their men. It was indeed 
 a soldier's battle, and who can praise their valour 
 enough ! What Napier viTote of it as displayed at Albuera 
 is equally applicable to the way in which all ranks 
 stood at Inkerman. The noblest traits and virtues of the 
 British soldier and of our regimental officers came out there 
 all the stronger because of the painful contrast between 
 such qualities and the helpless, feckless ignorance of war 
 displayed by many of our generals and their inept staff upon 
 that occasion. His Royal Highness the Duke of Cam- 
 bridge was in the midst of the hardest fighting in and 
 around the two-gun battery, and I have heard men say it 
 was difficult to understand how he escaped being shot, for 
 he stuck to his post to the last, encouraging by his example 
 all around him. 
 
 But the Battle of Inkerman could never have taken 
 place had any ordinary care and intelligence been sho\vn 
 by those who selected the positions for our outposts, whose 
 
 142 
 
THE FIELD OF INKERMAN 
 
 purpose it was to watch the enemy's movements, to ferret 
 out his intentions, and so to protect us from surprise. It 
 was a disgrace to all the staff concerned that we were 
 caught napping by an enemy whom we allowed to assemble 
 close to us during the previous night without our knowledge. 
 Had any general who knew his business — Sir Colin Camp- 
 bell, for instance — been in command of the division upon 
 our extreme right that Gunpowder-Plot Day of 1854, we 
 should not have been caught unawares. No trouble was 
 taken even to send patrols into the valley of the Tchernaya, 
 where a main road crossed the river by a bridge near its 
 mouth. We sat down quietly on the top of heights and 
 slopes, making no effort to ascertain what the enemy were 
 about a mile off at the bottom of them. In all the history 
 of modern war, I do not know of another instance of such 
 culpable neglect on the part of divisional commanders 
 of all the well-known and long established precautions 
 that should be taken by troops in the field against 
 surprise. We knew the enemy were near us, and but 
 eleven days before, that enemy had made a serious attack 
 from the Tchernaya vaUey, only a few mUes above Inker- 
 man, upon our short line of communication with Balaclava. 
 The fighting characteristics of our soldiers and regi- 
 mental officers were so conspicuous throughout the 
 Battle of Inkerman that we have been content to forget 
 the culpable professional ignorance of those who had been 
 selected to command them. May God defend us in future 
 against any similar reckless selection. 
 
 Upon the evening of that day, we were told, two generals 
 of division urged the immediate re-embarkation of the army, 
 a disgrace from which we were saved by that cool determi- 
 nation which, even under the most adverse circumstances, 
 
 143 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 never forsook Lord Raglan for a moment. His was courage 
 of the highest order. 
 
 For months afterwards, the everts of tliat battle were 
 topics of daily conversation in camp, and those who had 
 seen most of it, and who knew most about it, could not 
 speak too highly of our regimental officers and of the men 
 they led, or condemn too emphatically the inefficiency of 
 our leaders. Of course, there were exceptions, for there 
 were a few right good men amongst our generals — dear old 
 Sir George Brown, who commanded the light division, 
 lor example, in every sense a fine soldier of the old school. 
 He was the coolest of men, and under fire was an object 
 lesson to all who saw him. He stuck to " pipeclay " to the 
 last. A friend of mine had found him shaving before 
 daybreak the morning of Alma, and without doubt he was 
 the only man who used a razor upon that occasion. No 
 matter how hot the day, he was never seen without his 
 leather stock ; indeed, it was generally believed that he 
 slept in it. A braver man of the Peninsula school never 
 wore the Queen's imiform. 
 
 There was also General Pennyfather, the daring Irishman 
 famous for his swearing propensities, his reckless courage, 
 and his splendid behaviour at Meanee. 
 
 Of the brigadiers some were very good men. There was 
 first, above aH the others. Sir Colin Campbell, of great war 
 experience, an able leader, and a first-rate soldier, who was 
 trusted by his men and by all who knew him ; there was 
 also General Codrington, a keen, active soldier, and though 
 without much experience, he was already learning quickly. 
 If either of these, or Sir Richard Airey, had been in com- 
 mand at Inkerman, we should not have been surprised as 
 we were on November 5. But the active, keen, and edu- 
 
 144 
 
SIR RICHARD AIREY 
 
 cated soldier to whom I soon found all the best men in our 
 Crimean army who knew him well looked up to as a future 
 leader, was Sir Richard Airey, the last of the three generals 
 I have named. He was the one great redeeming feature 
 at Army Headquarters. Cool, with perfect manners, a 
 beautiful horseman and keen sportsman, he was also a 
 highly educated soldier who had studied the science and 
 the art of war in all its phases. No man knew our army 
 better in every sense. If the war-ignorant Government 
 which then ruled England had only consulted him before 
 their rash Crimean venture, he would have saved them 
 from that scathing denunciation passed upon them by the 
 Parliamentary Commission which subsequently inquired 
 into the cause of our failure and of our men's misery. He 
 would have made them view the question of the war before 
 them in its proper light. He could, and he would, have 
 told the amiable politicians who constituted the Cabinet 
 that our army was unfit for war and unprovided with the 
 administrative services or the reserves of men without 
 which no regular army can long exist in the field. 
 
 All through the winter I heard the events of the Battle 
 of Inkerman so fully discussed by staff and other officers 
 who had taken part in it, that I came to know its details 
 as I had never known those of any other battle. It was 
 filled with splendid examples of heroism and with episodes 
 that are as striking as any that have been since described 
 by General Marbot. 
 
 During the last winter, 1855-6, my immediate chief on 
 the quarter-master general's staff of the light division 
 was Major the Hon. Hugh Clifford, of the Rifle Brigade, a 
 brave, daring soldier, and an indefatigable worker. Many 
 years afterwards he served under me in South Africa, and 
 
 VOL. I. 145 L 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 both as my master and as my staff officer I entertained a 
 high opinion of him as a soldier, and a personal affectionate 
 regard for him. He was A.D.C. to General Buller, who 
 commanded the 2nd brigade of the light division at the 
 Battle of Inkerman. In the thick of that fight, when gallop- 
 ing to deliver an order, his horse jumped some high bushes. 
 Upon landing beyond them, he found himself confronted 
 by two Russians. One, as well as I remember the story, 
 he knocked down with his horse, and the other he slashed 
 with his sword heavily over the arm, nearly cutting it off. 
 Some two or three days afterwards, when going round the 
 brigade hospital with his general, they came upon some 
 wounded prisoners. One, whose arm had been amputated, 
 smiled and nodded at him, and when an interpreter was 
 found, the poor Russian said he recognized in Clifford the 
 man whom he had tried in vain to kill, but who had instead 
 nearly cut off his arm. A quaint recognition, a strange 
 addition to their respective circle of friends. 
 
 But as I was not at the battle I shall not relate any more 
 second-hand stories about it. When the summer of 1855 
 had set in, I made many water-colour sketches about our 
 position at Inkerman. Upon one occasion my presence 
 evidently attracted the attention of the enemy's riflemen in 
 the rock-cut chapel on the other side of the vaUey, and they 
 began to use me as a target. A few bullets whizzed past, 
 to which I paid no attention, but at last they put one into 
 the sloping bank on which I sat, and so close to my feet 
 that I felt the thud it made on entering the ground. I 
 took this to be a polite notice to quit, so, collecting my 
 sketching block and paint-box, I moved off slowly, that 
 they should not have the satisfaction of knowing I was 
 disturbed by their good shooting. 
 
 146 
 
COLONEL CHARLES GORDON 
 
 In a future volume I shall have much to say about " God's 
 friend," Colonel Charles Gordon, in many ways the most 
 remarkable man I ever knew. But as I met him first at the 
 time of which I am here writing, when we were both doing 
 duty in the trenches before Sebastopol, I shaU at once say 
 a little about him. We were friends, drawn together by 
 ties never formulated in words. In a conversation I had 
 with him the year he left England, never to return, he told 
 me he prayed daily for two men, of whom I was one.^ 
 
 In these material days of money grubbing, when the 
 teaching of Christianity is little practised and the spirit of 
 chivalry is well-nigh forgotten, I cling tenaciously to every 
 remembrance of our intimacy, because he was one of the 
 very few friends I ever had who came up to my estimate of 
 the Christian hero. He absolutely ignored self in all he 
 did, and only took in hand what he conceived to be God's 
 work. Life was to him but a Pilgrim's Progress between 
 the years of early manhood and the Heaven he now dwells 
 in, the Home he always longed for. 
 
 History tells of only one faultless Hero, and His story is 
 set forth in the Gospels. The character of Christ as therein 
 depicted was always uppermost in Gordon's mind. When 
 in any dif&culty his first thought was, "What would my 
 Master do were He now in my place ? " It was this con- 
 stant reliance upon his Maker, this spiritual communing with 
 his Saviour upon every daily occurrence in life, that enabled 
 him absolutely to ignore self and take no heed for what 
 to-morrow might bring forth. It was because of this faith 
 that he cheerfully gave up his life in the endeavour to do 
 
 ' I believe the other was Colonel J. F. Brocklehurst, C.V.O., C.B., 
 then commanding the Royal Horse Guards, and of whom I know 
 he was very fond and of whom he had the highest opinion. 
 
 147 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 what he believed to be his Master's work, the mission he 
 willingly undertook to Khartoum. To imderstand that 
 Master's will in all the events of his splendid but curiously 
 varied career, he studied the Bible in a way rarely practised 
 since the early days of Christianity. He was mortal, and 
 was not therefore perfect. But the more I study his noble 
 life the more I am dazzled by its untarnished glory, as the 
 eyes are by staring at the midday sun. To those who 
 would belittle his memory, I can only say, " Go and do 
 likewise." 
 
 When I first met him in the Crimea, he was a good-looking, 
 curly-headed young man of my own age, both of us being 
 then in our twenty-second year. His full, clear and bright 
 blue eyes seemed to court scrutiny, whilst at the same time 
 they searched into your inner soul. An indifference to 
 danger of all sorts, or, I should rather say, an apparent un- 
 consciousness of it, bespoke a want of the sense which 
 generally warns man of its presence. His absolute single- 
 mindedness of purpose startled me at times, for it made me 
 feel how inferior I was to him in all the higher qualities of 
 character, and how inferior were all my aims in life to his. 
 
 148 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 Assault of the Quarries and the Mameloni 
 
 1855 
 
 THE Redan was constructed upon a high detached fea- 
 ture that ran north-west and south-east on the rocky, 
 stony ground lying between the Woronzoff and Middle 
 Ravines. It was about 100 feet below the level of what 
 we called Frenchman's Hill, on which we had opened the 
 first parallel of our right attack. About 430 yards south-east 
 from the Salient of the Redan, were some rough piles of 
 stone, named by us the quarries. They stood on what I may 
 call the backbone of this feature, at the edge of a ridge 
 where the ground dipped rather abniptly towards our 
 trenches. 
 
 By the end of May we knew in the engineer camp that 
 all the besieging batteries were to open fire in a few days, 
 preparatory to an assault of the Russian works that were 
 nearest to both the French and English trenches. We 
 subsequently learnt that our attack was to be confined 
 to the Quarries, whilst the French assaulted the Ouvrages 
 Blancs, near the extreme right of the Russian position, 
 and also the Mamelon, between five and six hundred yards 
 south-east of the Malakoff, upon which the enemy had 
 recently constructed a strong redoubt. 
 
 At 3 p.m. on June 6, all the aUied batteries opened fire, 
 and the very earth seemed to heave and shake from the 
 
 149 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 violent concussion of nearly 600 heavy guns and mor- 
 tars with which we pounded the Russian works. The 
 enemy were somewhat taken by surprise by this sudden 
 outburst of fire from all the besieging batteries. The 
 Mamelon alone replied at once, but in about twenty minutes 
 most of their important batteries were in action also. It 
 was a very hot day, and a piercing sun seemed to broil our 
 brains, badly protected then by the tailor-designed forage 
 caps we wore. The heat told seriously upon our artillerymen 
 and bluejackets, who worked hard at their guns all day. 
 The roar of guns from both sides was terrific. Maintained 
 as long as daylight lasted, it seemed as if " aU Bedlam were 
 let out." When we could no longer clearly see the Russian 
 embrasures, our gun fire gradually slackened, and a heavy 
 mortar fire replaced it. This was maintained throughout the 
 night to prevent the enemy from repairing his shattered works 
 or replacing his injured guns. The very sky seemed alive 
 filled with our shells. Their burning fuses streaked the 
 sky in all directions with long lines of light as they travelled, 
 each over its own special parabola,with a seemingly deliberate 
 and horrible precision. As they sped upon their death- 
 bearing mission they resembled fireworks, but we all hoped 
 that each meant destruction to the enemy. Now and then 
 a badly fused shell burst in the air with a loud report, and 
 one heard its great heavy and jagged splinters tear through 
 the darkness with a weird, whistling noise, as of some rush- 
 ing meteor on its final journey gone. By day you may dodge 
 such missives, but at night one can but listen for their noisy 
 advent, glad indeed when the ear catches the heavy thud 
 with which they strike mother earth as it were in maddened 
 anger. 
 
 There were some sixty-six mortars in the British bat- 
 
 150 
 
THE ALLIES BOMBARD SEBASTOPOL 
 
 teries, almost all " 13 inch," the shell for which, with its 
 bursting charge, weighed about 200 pounds. Of them we 
 required 500 for each piece, or over 30,000 in all 
 for this bombardment alone. Most of those were dropped 
 into the Redan and its flanking batteries. The reader can 
 therefore picture for himself what must have been the effect 
 caused by such terrible missives in such an enclosed work. 
 However, it is desirable the reader should understand 
 that Todleben had provided well against danger from mortar 
 fire in the construction of all his great works of defence. 
 I can best describe his plan to the non-professional reader 
 by saying he made them with two parallel lines of parapets 
 one withia the other. Between them were the guns and all 
 the men who served them, so that shells, unless falling 
 within the narrow space between those two lines of parapets, 
 did no one any harm :. aU the splinters that flew towards the 
 gun-detachments from the shells falling in the interior of the 
 work, that is, inside this inner line of parapet, were caught 
 by it. This plan, in works like the great Redan for 
 instance, though it required a vast number of workmen, 
 must have saved thousands of Russians from wounds and 
 death during that prolonged siege. We never had men 
 enough to enable us to make our siege works as strong and 
 effective as they should have been. In fact, from the day 
 we invested Sebastopol until the faU of that place, our army 
 was too small, ridiculously too small, for the siege to which 
 a British Cabinet, in criminal ignorance of war and of the 
 soldier's science, had committed England. 
 
 Fire was resumed by aU our siege batteries at daybreak 
 the following morning, June 7, 1855 ; in fact, as soon as we 
 could clearly see to lay our guns upon the Russian works. 
 It is not easy to describe what being in any large siege 
 
 151 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 battery at such a time is like. The gunners and sailors, 
 perspiring at every pore and begrimed with dust and gun- 
 powder, worked with little on beyond their trousers. Vol- 
 umes of thick smoke in those days of black powder hung 
 round all our batteries in action, making it at times no easy 
 matter to lay our guns effectively upon the enemy's em- 
 brasiues. Amidst the roar and air-shaking discharge of 
 such heavy guns and mortars, the men, blackened with the 
 smoke of gunpowder, worked in silence. The only voice 
 you heard was that of some young artillery officer in charge 
 of a section as he called out at times some order, such as 
 " Number three gun there, half a degree more elevation," 
 or some other laconic order or meed of praise, such as, " Well 
 done, number five," when a shell from it burst in the em- 
 brasure to which its attentions were at that moment specially 
 devoted. If there was any breeze the officer's position was 
 to windward of his guns, in order to avoid the smoke when 
 observing the effect of his fire. It was delightful to watch 
 the coolness of these young artillery and naval officers, many 
 of the former but lately from Woolwich Academy, as with 
 binoculars in hand, they stood in more or less exposed 
 positions as cool and collected as men may be seen at 
 " annual practice " on the Shoeburyness Ranges. 
 
 As noon drew near it became evident that our fire was 
 getting the upper hand, and gun after gun in the Russian 
 batteries ceased to annoy us. The Redan looked very much 
 knocked about, and the guns in the Mamelon had been 
 practically silenced. In his history of the siege. General 
 Todleben says the western face of the Malakoff had been 
 almost silenced by the slow but accurate British fire upon 
 it. On the 7th the Mamelon was completely silenced, its 
 face towards us being nearly razed. Orders had been issued 
 
 152 
 
ASSAULT OF THE QUARRIES 
 
 for an assault upon the quarries to be made at six o'clock 
 that summer evening, when, at the same moment, the 
 French were to attack the Mamelon. This would enable 
 those works to be taken during daylight, and would give us 
 the cover of night to make good our lodgment in them and 
 connect them with our nearest trenches. 
 
 Colonel R. Campbell,^ who commanded my battalion, the 
 90th Light Infantry, was to command the troops in the 
 assault of the quaixies. He was a fine gallant little fellow ; 
 a keen and ambitious soldier of much experience, he was 
 just the man for such a duty, and he deserved well of his 
 country for the splendid service he rendered all through the 
 night that followed.' I had been told off as the engineer to 
 connect the quarries, when we took them, with our trenches to 
 the eastward, in which I took up my position early in the 
 evening of that June 7. The working party to make that 
 connection was there also. I counted its numbers and 
 explained to the officers with it what their work was to be, 
 adding that we were not to begin until evening had fallen 
 sufficiently to screen us from the enemy's view. By six 
 o'clock, ever3rthing being ready for the coming attack, a 
 signal was given. It was a moment of intense excitement 
 to every man in the besiegers' works. Captain Bamston, 
 of my battalion, then upon the headquarter staff, had been 
 sent into the French trenches near the Mamelon to see 
 that the signal for assault when made there was understood 
 and acted upon by us near the quarries. When the Zouave 
 told off to hoist the signal flag had done so, he looked towards 
 our works to assure himself it had been seen. At that 
 moment his eyes feU upon our assaulting column as it 
 
 'He was killed at the head of his regiment whilst fighting his way 
 into the Residency at General Havelock's Relief of Lucknow, 
 
 153 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 charged for the quarries. The sight was too much for the 
 impressionable Frenchman, and in a moment he had thrown 
 his arms round my naturally demure comrade, and hugging 
 him in a close embrace, cried out, " Ah ! les braves Anglais ; 
 c'est magnifique." 
 
 Throughout a siege, it is amongst the regimental officer's 
 duties to see that his men never unduly expose themselves 
 to the enemy's fire, and in our trenches before Sebastopol 
 one tired of warning them not to show their heads above 
 the parapets. To men so taught for many months, it is a 
 new, a strange sensation to scramble over those same para- 
 pets, and then, fuUy exposed to view and to missUes of all 
 kinds, to double forward and attack in the open. We are 
 aU creatures of habit, the British soldier especially so, 
 because of his daily attention to orders, and to the lessons 
 he has learnt from his officers. But towards the close of a 
 siege, when he has to suddenly ignore the teaching on this 
 point which he had previously received, and for the time 
 being to scorn aU cover, the change with some is not easily 
 taken in. 
 
 From where I was, the attack upon the " Ouvrages 
 Blancs " could not be seen, but I had a clear view of the 
 ground between our advanced trenches and the quarries, and 
 also of that l3dng between the Mamelon and the French 
 trenches in front of it. As the moment for the assault 
 drew near, each man around me seemed instinctively to 
 hold his breath in a state of pent-up mental pressure. In our 
 hearts, aU were deeply, intensely excited, but in true English 
 fashion each strove to gulp down any outward expression 
 of his natural feeling, and to look as indifferent as possible. 
 My own experience tells me that when you look round the 
 men of a storming party you are about to lead, or even to 
 
 154 
 
ASSAULT OF THE QUARRIES 
 
 accompany, and see them " strain like greyhounds on the 
 leash," your heart is much lighter and your feehngs far 
 brighter than when you are doomed to watch others storm 
 whilst you look on with aU the calmness you can muster, or 
 pretend to. Such I know were my sensations when at 
 six o'clock I saw the British redcoats swarm over our ad- 
 vanced trenches and with that exciting, that terrible British 
 cheer so well known to our enemies all round the world, 
 charge over the space between them and the quarries. 
 
 As I looked towards the Mamelon, my blood tingled in 
 every vein when I saw our brave, our gallant allies pour over 
 its parapets in the most dashing style, some of them, in their 
 excitement, even ran out beyond it, making for the Mala- 
 koff. Our assaulting column similarly gave way to the 
 enthusiasm of the moment and pushed forward beyond the 
 quarries when they had taken it. But in both instances, 
 beyond making the Russians " sit-up," as our men subse- 
 quently described it, this daring did not, and could not 
 under the circumstances, lead to any useful result. The 
 Russian soldiers upon all occasions proved themselves too 
 stalwart an enemy to admit of any such tricks being played 
 upon them by what was at that moment little more than a 
 party of the most daring spirits of a storming party. Be- 
 sides, the hopelessness of any such attempt is easUy under- 
 stood when it is remembered that our EngUsh trenches 
 barely held enough men even for the capture of the quarries. 
 But both the Redan and the Malakoff had been seriously 
 shattered by the concentrated fire they had just sustained. 
 Many therefore thought that had the French commanding 
 engineer's able plan for the assault of the Malakoff three 
 months later been followed upon June 7, we might then 
 have taken both the Redan and the Malakoff. The diffi- 
 
 155 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 culty in all such siege operations, after the successful assault 
 of any line of works, is to have enough men close at hand 
 to back up those who have taken them. It is only in 
 extremely rare cases that the siege-works nearest the point 
 to be attacked will hold more men than are necessary for 
 the first effort. No such works as those of the Redan and 
 Malakoff when taken in any siege can be retained possession 
 of unless the besieger has the means of pouring into them 
 a continued stream of fresh troops. That lesson the English 
 learnt to their cost three months later. The French knew 
 it, and, as I shall describe further on, they had, on September 
 8, wisely made their arrangements beforehand to meet the 
 difficulty. But imagination was never a strong character- 
 istic of that most gallant and devoted body, our Royal 
 Engineer officers before Sebastopol. This repulse of our 
 daring and enterprising allies in their unprepared rush upon 
 the Malakoff, gave renewed confidence to the enemy. In 
 a moment I saw them stream from the works around it, and 
 charge the gallant but evidently blown Zouaves by whom 
 the unexpected attack had been made. The Russians, push- 
 ing their success, re-entered the Mamelon with the retreat- 
 ing French, and my heart sank as I saw that work once 
 more in the enemy's possession. But their success was 
 short-lived, for the French reserves coming up, the enemy 
 were quickly driven from the Mamelon, and I rejoiced 
 to see them running back helter-skelter for shelter in the 
 Malakoff. 
 
 Whilst thus intensely absorbed in watching these history- 
 making events and waiting anxiously for the sheltering pro- 
 tection of twilight to begin my allotted task, the message 
 came, that as Captain Lowry had just been killed I was to 
 take over his duty. The task to which that gallant young 
 
 156 
 
THE QUARRIES TAKEN ^ 
 
 Irishman had been told off was to unite the quarries — as 
 soon as we had taken them — with Egerton's pit, the dis- 
 tance between those two places being about i8o yards. I 
 had no time to moralize nor to grieve for the loss of a brave 
 comrade, nor was it a place to think of anything but of one's 
 own special work, for death at the moment sang around us 
 in what seemed a crowd of passing bullets. 
 
 I soon made my way to Egerton's pit, and as I clambered 
 over its gabions to get forward to the quarries, " a swish " 
 of " grape " or tier-shot whistled by, and one of the bullets 
 cut open my right thigh. As a wound, it was nothing, 
 for although its mark still remains, it merely cut the skin 
 badly enough to make me bleed profusely. The amount of 
 blood that soon covered my clothes gave me, however, the 
 appearance of a badly wounded man. Indeed, I only refer 
 to this scratch at all because of the amusing incident it gave 
 rise to the following morning. 
 
 Upon entering the quarries, I found Colonel Campbell, 
 of my own battalion, in command there. The number of 
 men at his disposal was ridiculously small and entirely 
 inadequate for the double duty of defending the place 
 against the sorties that were sure to try to retake it, and for 
 the formation of a good lodgment there. The parapet 
 built by the Russians was on the south side of the quarries, 
 and was thus behind his men. Whilst, therefore, constantly 
 engaged with those sorties he had also to construct a parapet 
 in front of him, north of the quarries, and between him and 
 the enemy. There was practically very little earth in the 
 locality. Any scanty soil that was there originally had 
 been scraped away by the Russians for the parapet they 
 had made between them and us. 
 
 I had soon cut a passage through the parapet of Egerton's 
 
 157 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 pit and had laid out with a row of gabions the communica- 
 tion between the quarries and Egerton's pit. As any plan 
 of our trenches will show, I broke the line of that communi- 
 cation with what I may describe as a kink, in order to 
 defilade the half of it that was nearest to Egerton's pit, 
 the other half, that nearest the Russians, being defiladed 
 by the quarries, which stood on much higher ground and 
 hid that half of my trench from view. 
 
 My working party picked and shovelled hard through 
 that night of sorties, heavy firing, noise and shouting. 
 It was the busiest night I ever spent, and the night of the 
 hardest work and most constant fighting I passed during 
 the siege. I do not know how many serious attempts the 
 Russians made to retake the quarries under cover of the 
 night that followed, but in looking back at the affair as 
 a whole, it would seem that when I was not working hard 
 at my fl3dng sap, — which was my special task — I was in 
 the quarries at Colonel Campbell's side, helping him, and 
 cheering loudly to encourage the men around him to hold 
 out against the renewed efforts of the enemy to retake 
 what we had captured. 
 
 All the chief incidents of that night are still fresh in my 
 recollection, and I delight in recalling its stirring events. 
 My blood tingles even now as I think of how bravely our 
 men fought upon that occasion. That " war is a horrible 
 thing," is a very nice heading for the page of a schoolgirl's 
 copybook, but I confess candidly that in my heart I always 
 thoroughly enjoyed it. Surely it has a very glorious side 
 to it. You find man at his best and at his worst there. What 
 can be grander than to see men boldly face death for the 
 honour, the glory, and the prosperity of the country they 
 love and whose interests they put before self and all earthly 
 
 158 
 
ATTEMPT TO RETAKE QUARRIES 
 
 considerations ! It is self-sacrifice of a most pronounced 
 type, the acme of noble excitement, the apogee of patriotic 
 enthusiasm. 
 
 In the quiet hum-drum of home life and of aU its dull 
 humanizing but often vulgar influences, we may moralize 
 over the angry passions which war develops. The heart is 
 easily saddened by thoughts of widows and orphans made 
 to satisfy war's greedy maw ; but what nobler heritage can 
 poor sinful man leave his children than the fact that he 
 willingly died that England might be renowned and great, 
 and her people safe and prosperous ? This is not the out- 
 burst of some frenzied poet ; it is the sober, calm opinion 
 of a soldier who knows from experience what war's vile 
 horrors are and who stiU suffers much from the penalties 
 that it exacts. 
 
 Before day broke, I had fairly weU accomplished my 
 allotted task, although several partial attempts had been 
 made by the Russians to retake the place we had captured. 
 My working party were thoroughly worn out, but aU ranks, 
 I am sure, felt they had made a long step in advance towards 
 the goal our army had so long been trying to reach. The 
 fighting in front of the quarries had been so constant through- 
 out the night that little progress could be made towards 
 the construction of an effective parapet on the Russian side 
 of it. A line of gabions, and stones, and I believe even the 
 bodies of the dead Russians, had been piled up so as to 
 screen our men, if not from shot, at least from view, as 
 soon as daylight should dawn upon us. At some places the 
 gabions had been fairly well filled, and a little parapet con- 
 structed. Its strength was soon to be tested. Before day 
 broke I went into the quarries to see how matters went 
 there. I found the colonel of my battalion doing all he could 
 
 159 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 tp strengthen his position. But his men were " dead beat." 
 Many lay about snoring loudly, notwithstanding the constant 
 roll of musketry and the occasional booming of guns and the 
 bursting of shells. He was anxiously hoping for reinforce- 
 ments of fresh men, and was naturally most desirous to see 
 them arrive. Whilst standing with him behind the miserable 
 little shelter which want of earth had prevented him from 
 making better, peering through our glasses into the dark 
 space between us and the Redan, there arose, apparently 
 close to us, that horrible jackal sort of rasping, screeching, 
 discordant yeU which with the Russians takes the place of 
 our manly and telling British cheers. We all knew it meant 
 another sortie, and from the hour of night it was easy to 
 understand that it must be the last effort the Russians would 
 make before the sun rose, and that consequently it would be 
 pushed home with all possible strength and vigour. We 
 answered their cry with such cheers as we could get from 
 our tired and pumped-out men. Colonel Campbell and I 
 mounted his tumble-down makeshift for a parapet to give 
 the men heart, and he kept his bugler hard at work. Had 
 I never before heard the regimental call of the goth Light 
 Infantry I should have learnt it then. The " advance and 
 double " the " alarm and assembly," and many calls also 
 then peculiar to light infantry regiments, followed one 
 another in quick succession. The Russians howled, but 
 there seemed much hesitation about their advance. Doubt- 
 less they too had had " enough of it " during the night, 
 and wanted rest also. But I am sure that our cheering 
 imposed upon them and made them think we were confident 
 and anxious they should come on in order that we might 
 destroy them. Had they known our real condition a well 
 led charge of a few hundred Russians would have cleared 
 
 i6o 
 
RUSSIANS ASSAULT THE QUARRIES 
 
 us out of the place in five minutes. As Colonel Campbell 
 and I stood on the top of his little parapet cheering wildly, 
 I perceived a long column of the enemy through the feeble, 
 misty light before dawn of day. I could distinguish men, 
 evidently officers in front, who were apparently doing their 
 best to get their soldiers forward, but to little purpose. 
 They were at last within ten or twelve paces of us. If I 
 thought at aU, it must have been that my last hour had 
 come. I fired my revolver " into the brown " of them, for 
 it was indeed a critical moment. Our men do not, in fact 
 no soldiers, fight their best at night. Each side attributes 
 to the other an unreasonable superiority in strength and an 
 eagerness to engage which is generally fictitious. What would 
 not a hundred English gentlemen acting as a company of 
 private soldiers achieve at such a moment either in attack 
 or defence ? Had we then had a couple of such companies 
 there, how we should have sprung upon the head of that 
 Russian column, and, driving it back, we might probably 
 have been able even to enter the Redan with the enemy as 
 they retreated ! And if, on the other hand, the Russian 
 officers whom I could descry pulling their men forward to 
 the charge, had had such a company behind them, they 
 would certainly have been back in the quarries in the 
 twinkling of an eye, and its few defenders must have been 
 either killed or prisoners in the space of five minutes. At 
 any rate, they could and would have easUy retaken the 
 work they had lost the evening before. 
 
 Both Colonel Campbell and I, and without doubt many 
 other officers also, shouted ourselves so hoarse that we could 
 not speak all next day, nor indeed could we do so well for 
 some days afterwards. In no other twelve hours of my life 
 have I ever taken as much out of myself as I did that night. 
 
 VOL. I. i6i M 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 With daybreak all danger from further sorties ceased, and 
 I was just able to stagger out of the quarries and literally 
 to throw myself down in the semi-twihght of dawn on the 
 sloping and sheltered ground immediately behind them. 
 I was asleep in a moment. How long I lay there like a log 
 I don't know, but a voice close by woke me at last as I heard 
 some one express regret that I was amongst the dead. I 
 said — as I was afterwards told — " I beg your pardon, I am 
 worth many dead men yet." I found it was the naval 
 lieutenant, Prince Victor of Hohenlohe, afterwards known 
 to so many as Count Gleichen, who had taken me for dead. 
 It was not surprising he had done so, for most of the poor 
 feUows who had fallen during the night's fighting had been 
 carried out of the quarries and placed upon the sloping bank 
 where I had thrown my wearied body to rest. Besides, as 
 I had bled pretty freely from the slight wound I had received 
 in the thigh when the " evening's entertainment " first 
 opened, I was much besmeared with blood when Prince 
 Victor recognized me amongst the numerous dead that lay 
 around me. He gave me something from his flask, and I 
 staggered along as best I could towards the Middle Ravine 
 picket where my groom usually came with a pony for me in 
 the morning. But I had about a mile and a half of tortuous 
 zig-zags and trenches of sorts to get through before I could 
 reach it. My chief difficulty was to keep awake, and as I 
 staggered along I must have had very much the air of a 
 drunken man to any stranger. But I reached the picket at 
 last, where I met a right good trench comrade and a real 
 fighting soldier. Major Maxwell of the Connaught Rangers, 
 commonly known as " Paddy Maxwell," to distinguish him 
 from a Scotchman of that same name in his battalion who was 
 called " Bumble Maxwell." My Irish friend had just 
 
 162 
 
RETURN TO CAMP 
 
 arrived on horseback from a tour of duty as field officer of 
 the day, and at once lent me his horse, as mine Iiad not 
 turned up, and helped me to mount, which I had barely 
 strength to do. I don't know how I got back to camp, but 
 I do know that several times during that ride my " mount " 
 and I nearly parted company. I slept well all that day. 
 
 163 
 
CHAPTER X 
 Repulse of the Allies on June i8, 1855 
 
 THE allied armies had been too long stationary, and 
 the very trying months of winter's hardships had 
 sorely reduced the British numbers through want and over- 
 work, and the disease which always results from them. 
 When summer came at last, all ranks were, I think, some- 
 what " down in their luck." The army of France was very 
 large ; ours was absurdly small for the duties it had to per- 
 form all over the Empire. Napoleon III could more easily 
 send a division to reinforce his army in the Crimea than 
 we could spare even one extra battalion for that purpose. 
 England's generals, mostly ignorant of war's science, had 
 allowed the army to be surprised at Inkerman, where our 
 loss in battle was so great that during all the subsequent 
 winter months we were compelled to play a strictly defen- 
 sive role. But the recent success of the English and French 
 besieging armies at the quarries and the Mamelon had put 
 new heart into both of them. We all longed for another 
 opportunity of showing what we could do, and hailed with 
 delight the news that we were at last to storm the Redan, 
 and the French the Malakoff. This had been decided at a 
 meeting of the allied commanders on June 16, 1855, and it 
 was arranged that aU the besieging batteries should open 
 fire at daybreak the following morning. It was settled 
 
 164 
 
WATERLOO DAY, 1855 
 
 that should this bombardment produce a sufficiently 
 decided effect upon the enemy's works it would be followed 
 by an attack upon both these Russian works two hours after 
 daybreak on June 18. During these two hours of daylight, 
 the heaviest possible fire was to be poured from all the 
 besieging batteries upon the Redan and the Malakoff in order 
 to destroy any new works that might be constructed and any 
 repairs to old ones that might be effected during the preceding 
 night. It was also hoped that this avalanche of shot and 
 shell would so maul the abattis round the Redan as to make 
 good openings through it for our stormers. It could not fail 
 to inflict a heavy loss upon the enemy, crowded as they 
 certainly would be into every part of their works to resist 
 the assault they anticipated, and we expected that it would 
 also dismount a large proportion of the guns that could be 
 brought to bear upon our attacking columns. But this was 
 not to be, for late in the evening of June 17 General Pel- 
 lissier informed Lord Raglan that he had changed his plans, 
 and that his troops would move forward upon the Malakoff at 
 three o'clock the following morning. This put an end to 
 the two hours' bombardment we intended to have had 
 before the assault was delivered. I do not know for certain 
 why he found it necessary to alter the hour fixed for the 
 assault, but I assume it was because he discovered he could 
 not conceal in his trenches all the troops he intended to 
 employ. Under cover of the night he could mass as many 
 troops as he wished along the line of his siege works in front 
 of the Malakoff, but as soon as day broke, if they remained 
 stationary they would be exposed to destruction. To 
 storm at the first streak of dayhght became therefore a 
 necessity with him. But what neither commander seems 
 to have fully grasped was, that we had not as yet sufficiently 
 
 165 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 subdued the enemy's fire to make any assault probably suc- 
 cessful. The Russians had an unlimited supply of guns 
 in their great Black Sea fortress, and consequently we were 
 not justified in expecting to assault it successfully except 
 immediately after a very heavy and prolonged bombard- 
 ment. 
 
 I went on duty to the trenches the evening of the 17th, 
 and worked hard all night preparing for the assault we were 
 to make next morning in three columns upon the Redan. 
 The sad events of that morning are only too well graven on 
 my memory. Wild hopes had filled my head during the 
 previous night, and I was elated because I believed we 
 should succeed. It was arranged that Lord Raglan was to 
 take up his position during the assault in No 9, more 
 commonly known as our " eight gun battery." About 
 1,000 yards from the Redan and eighty feet above it, this 
 battery was a good and fairly secure spot for the purpose. 
 From it one had a good view of the centre of the Russian 
 position that extended between the Woronzoff Road and 
 Careening Creek. The signal for our assault was to be a 
 rocket fired from that battery. 
 
 At selected spots I collected the woolsacks intended to 
 fill, or at least partially to fill, the Redan ditch, and also 
 planks to lay in it where we might expect to find boards 
 covered with spikes driven into them like the quiUs of a 
 porcupine. Such, when laid on the bottom of a ditch, 
 form a serious obstacle, and are not easily crossed by a crowd 
 of excited stormers. Grappling irons to drag away the 
 abattis that formed a close line round the Redan had also 
 to be thought of : and lastly, a considerable number of 
 scaling ladders which were to be carried and placed in position 
 by the naval brigade under that bravest of brave sailors, 
 
 166 
 
OUR PREPARATIONS FOR ASSAULT 
 
 Captain William Peel. All this employed numerous fatigue 
 parties during the night, and kept me busy. 
 
 Before day broke Lord Raglan, accompanied by the com- 
 manding engineer, General Sir Harry J ones and a numerous 
 staff, had taken up his position in No. 9 Battery, which 
 was on the extreme right of the second parallel of our right 
 attack. Man is not usually at his best in the dull, mysterious 
 hour immediately preceding daybreak. But we braced our- 
 selves for the coming assault, for all in their hearts must have 
 felt as I did, that this was to be no ordinary morning in the 
 history of our nation. We spoke in low tones, but I felt 
 confident we should win, and longed to hear the cheers with 
 which the day's work was sure to open. 
 
 In our trenches the troops to be engaged — and they were 
 ridiculously few — were in their places by two o'clock of the 
 i8th, all still under the impression that our batteries were 
 to pound the Russian works for a good two hours before the 
 assault was delivered. But as the sun began to brighten 
 the eastern sky one caught the sound of heavy musketry in 
 the Malakoff direction, which told us the French were 
 already in action, and within a quarter of an hour Lord 
 Raglan ordered our signal rockets to be fired. In my 
 opinion this was a mistake, unless of course it was done in 
 fulfilment of a promise made to General Pellissier that come 
 what might he would storm whenever the French did so. 
 I never believed we could hold the Redan if the Malakoff 
 remained in Russian hands. According to my views, there- 
 fore, tmtU the French had taken that work we should have 
 restricted our offensive operations to mere skirmishing 
 towards the Redan and to making feints to help the French 
 by inducing the enemy to believe we were about to assault. 
 The Malakoff was the key of the position, and when it was 
 
 167 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 taken the Redan would fall as soon as the French had turned 
 the Malakofi guns upon it. The Russians could not, in my 
 opinion, have held it under the crushing, enfilading fire from 
 the Malakoff and the cross-fire our batteries could bring to 
 bear upon it. As for our left attack, it was not expected 
 to take any part in the attack. But, together with many 
 others, I had long held the opinion that our commanding 
 engineer had made a serious mistake in originally giving it 
 the importance he had done. One half of the troops allotted 
 to it would have been ample to have kept the enemy from 
 taking possession of the broad spur upon which its approaches 
 had been constructed, and the other half would then have 
 been available for the right, which was our serious attack. 
 
 I don't believe the Russians had learnt from spies or other 
 secret sources that our assault was to be delivered on June 
 i8. They had evidently guessed our intention on the natural 
 assumption that Louis Napoleon and his people should wish 
 that date to be remembered in history as the anniversary of 
 a victory won by the allied armies of England and France, 
 and no longer as exclusively associated with the destruction 
 of the great Napoleon and of his splendid army at Waterloo. 
 The fact that the Russians expected to be attacked that 
 morning came home to me in an instant when, upon the 
 advance of our storming-columns, I saw the superior slope 
 of all their nearest works covered suddenly, as if by magic, 
 with their soldiers. All their batteries opened fire, not only 
 upon our attacking columns, but also upon our nearest 
 batteries. No. g coming in for what seemed to me as more 
 than its due share of attention. 
 
 If the ground over which our three British columns 
 advanced upon the Redan looked at first like a field made 
 bright with red poppies, it seemed, in the twinkling of an 
 
 i68 
 
REPULSE OF THE ALLIES 
 
 eye, as if struck by a terrific hailstorm that had swept them 
 away, leaving the field strewn with the poppies it had mown 
 down. 
 
 No British or French soldier entered either the Redan 
 or the Malakoff that day, except the few who may have done 
 so as prisoners. Of that I am certain, notwithstanding what 
 others with more imagination than accuracy of statement 
 may have alleged to the contrary. It took very few minutes 
 to realize that we must fail, for no forlorn hope that ever 
 mounted the deadliest breech could have faced such a fire, 
 or could, in fact, have lived under it many minutes. The 
 fire of shell and round shot upon No. 9 Battery continued to 
 be disagreeably hot. I was talking there to a friend in the 
 Connaught Rangers when a round shot took his arm off, 
 covering me with small pieces of his flesh as it did so. He 
 fell, but jumping up quickly, said he was not hurt, being for 
 the moment unaware that he had lost an arm. In another 
 moment I saw Sir Harry Jones — our commanding engineer 
 in the siege — tumble backward from Lord Raglan's side, the 
 blood pouring through his white hair from a bad scalp 
 wound. His head only had been exposed as he and the 
 Commander-in-Chief both peered over the parapet tov/ards 
 the Redan, and though his wound was not in itself a very 
 bad one, it was " a narrow shave," and seemed aU the more 
 horrible in a white-haired old man than it would have done 
 in a younger soldier. 
 
 The affair was soon over : it was a solemn moment to all 
 of us, for we felt humbled in spirit by failure. The whole 
 manner of our assault was not creditable to our com- 
 manding engineer, who did not seem to understand that you 
 can ask too much from even British soldiers. Upon this 
 occasion, what was asked from them was beyond the power 
 
 169 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 of men to give. Our plan for the attack was simply idiotic, 
 and was bound to faU. I watched the handsome well-bred 
 features of Lord Raglan as he spoke sympathetically to 
 Sir Harry Jones, upon whose advice, I presume, he had 
 agreed to the attack being made. He was quite calm and 
 collected, with all the grace and high-bred manner that 
 invariably characterized his every action. I walked behind 
 him out of the battery to see he did not lose his way in our 
 somewhat puzzling trenches, and when we reached the 
 right approach that led back to the first parallel, we fell 
 into a stream of men carr3dng stretchers, each with a badly 
 wounded man upon it. On the first stretcher that Lord 
 Raglan encountered lay a young officer — I withhold his name 
 and regiment for the sake of the old and historic corps to 
 whose ranks he was a disgrace. As to himself, I hope his 
 hateful and undistinguished name has been forgotten as 
 he himself should be. Lord Raglan, going up to him in the 
 kindest way, said in the most feeling and sympathetic tone 
 and manner, " My poor young gentleman, I hope you are 
 not badly hurt ? " or some words to that effect. This brutal 
 cur — I subsequently knew the creature well — turned upon 
 him, and in the rudest terms and most savage manner, 
 denounced him as " responsible for every drop of blood 
 that had been shed that day." Wounded though this un- 
 generous fellow was, I could with pleasure have run my 
 sword through his unmanly carcass at the moment. 
 
 Ten days afterwards the brave and gallant soldier Lord 
 Raglan died, as I have always thought, of a broken heart. 
 In common with most of the young Army school of that day, 
 and we were all prejudiced and badly informed on the point, 
 I never thought he was equal to the conduct of a great war. 
 He seemed to lack the imagination, the military instinct, 
 
 170 
 
LORD RAGLAN'S DEATH 
 
 the knowledge of war's science and the elasticity of mind 
 and body that is essential for the general commanding an 
 army in the field. He had an extremely difficult game to 
 play. The Government of the day, plunging stupidly into 
 war with a great European Power of whose military strength 
 it was apparently ignorant, had invaded the Crimea with 
 little knowledge of its geography and still less of its rigorous 
 climate. "When disasters ensued, as is usual with politicians 
 in power, the Ministry had striven to throw the blame upon 
 the general commanding in the field and upon the staff 
 who had not even been selected by him. But Lord Raglan's 
 military virtues were many. His steadfast courage, and his 
 kindness of heart to all about him, were taking traits in his 
 character, whilst his well-born dignity of manner had doubt- 
 less much influence over foreigners upon all of whom God 
 had not been so bountiful in natural gifts. 
 
 The respective losses in killed and wounded of all ranks 
 during the bombardment of June 17, 1855, and in the 
 assault upon the day following were, British, 1,500 ; 
 French, 3,500 ; and Russian, 5,400. Of the three British 
 and three French commanders who led the six attacks, 
 four were killed and one disabled. Their names were : 
 General Campbell and Colonel Yed, killed ; and General 
 Eyre, wounded. 'A","'. - '"' .'' . .^ - ! .• :: 
 
 171 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 The Battle of the Tchernaya 
 
 ON August i6, 1855, I was one of a small party of 
 engineer officers who were engaged in drinking tea 
 and munching biscuit in my tent before daybreak, when the 
 sound of heavy firing, in what at first seemed to be the 
 Balaclava direction, caught our ears. We had risen at that 
 early hour with the intention of riding to the French and 
 Sardinian camps lately estabhshed on the Fedukine Heights 
 overlooking the Tractir Bridge on the Tchernaya River. 
 Running from our tents, we quickly realized that the firing 
 was increasing in intensity and that a battle was raging in 
 the neighbourhood of that bridge. Our horses had already 
 been saddled for our start, so we were soon making at a fast 
 gallop for the high point where the Woronzoff Road begins 
 to descend from the Sebastopol plateau into the Balaclava 
 plain below. When we reached it, the panorama spread out 
 before us was a very fine military pageant. The Russian foot, 
 still some forty-five or fifty thousand strong, were in full 
 but leisurely retreat towards the Mackenzie Heights, whence 
 they had advanced under cover of the previous night. They 
 seemed to be in two lines of battalion columns at short 
 intervals, with flanks weU protected by about five or six 
 thousand horsemen. A couple of hundred field guns — 
 some of which were still in action — warned the French not 
 to press too closely upon the heels of their retreating enemy. 
 
 172 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE TCHERNAYA 
 
 We were told that our allies had been informed through spies 
 that this attack was impending, and yet they allowed them- 
 selves to be surprised. This considerable Russian army 
 had deployed during the preceding night within a couple of 
 miles of the French pickets, without their knowledge, for 
 the purpose of surprising and driving the French from their 
 Ute du font, and of crossing the river there to secure the 
 Fedukine Heights beyond. 
 
 We spent little time, however, in admiration of the scene 
 before us, but, descending in haste to the plain below made 
 quickly for the Tractir Bridge. I soon learnt the parti- 
 culars of their attack, which did not add to the reputation of 
 Prince Gortschakoff, who was said to be then in command. 
 
 Several French and Sardinian batteries were plying the 
 retreating enemy with shell, and I saw a great rocket plump 
 into a battalion column, and, exploding as it did so, break 
 it up, at least for the time. Our Royal Artillery battery 
 of four thirty-two-pounder brass howitzers took an im- 
 portant part in this action, driving back the Russian guns 
 that were inflicting heavy loss upon the Sardinian outposts. 
 From what I heard, the attack was badly planned and executed, 
 being never pressed weU home, though the Russians forced 
 their way into the tete du pont from which the French had 
 bolted somewhat hastily. The dead and wounded lay in small 
 heaps aU round the vicinity of the bridge over which the 
 Russians had poured in considerable force. It is not easy to 
 estimate the number of dead and wounded upon any iield, 
 but I shoiild say that I saw at least 2,000 Russians killed 
 and wounded lying about upon both sides of the river near 
 the bridge. 
 
 The heroic action of a battery of French horse artillery 
 had done much towards the eventual success of the day. 
 
 173 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 The Russians having captured the French Ute du font, 
 boldly crossed the river and also the aqueduct that was but 
 a very short distance behind it. The main body must have 
 been slow in its movements, for no large Russian columns 
 ever seemed to have crossed the Tractir Bridge. Whilst 
 the Russians " fiddled about," instead of pushing boldly 
 forward and up the Fedukine Heights, this splendid 
 battery of French horse artillery arrived at a gallop, un- 
 limbered close to the bridge, and came rapidly into action. 
 Horses and men were mostly destroyed and the guns and 
 limbers nearly knocked to pieces by the Russian fire, but it 
 effectually stopped the enemy's advance at a time when 
 every minute was of inestimable value to both sides. To 
 gain time to enable the French to come into action was what 
 the French commander desired most, and it was secured by 
 the noble self-sacrifice of this horse artillery battery. What 
 was most essential to the Russians was to get at least a 
 division into position on the high ground beyond the bridge, 
 and this they were prevented from accomplishing by the 
 splendid conduct of that horse artillery battery. The gun 
 teams were lying about, mostly dead, though a few horses, 
 evidently in great pain, were struggling to gain their feet, 
 whilst here and there others with broken legs, unable to 
 rise, with a touching look of calm resignation that I can still 
 see in my mind's eye, were nibbling the short grass around 
 them. The conduct of this battery upon that occasion 
 was an instance of self-devotion that deserves to be for ever 
 remembered in the history of the French Army, full as 
 that history is of noble deeds done by its chivalrous sol- 
 diers. Had I been the general officer commanding our 
 army in the Crimea I should have given the senior surviving 
 officer of that battery the Victoria Cross. It was on my 
 
 174 
 
THE BATTLE OF THE TCHERNAYA 
 
 way back to camp along the Sebastopol Aqueduct by the 
 Lower Tchemaya, that I saw for the first time Mr. Russell, 
 the justly celebrated " special correspondent " of the Times 
 newspaper. He was not popular with the Army, and those 
 officers who had the privilege of his acquaintance were 
 generally looked upon with suspicion as anxious to be made 
 known in England through the columns of that greatest 
 of all daily papers. The consequence was that his friends 
 and those whom he praised were not always those who were 
 the most highly appreciated by the thoughtful men amongst 
 us. I fully recognized even then how much we owed him 
 for his outspoken denunciation of the disgraceful manner 
 in which our army had been sent by the Government then 
 in office to the Crimea without land transport of any kind. 
 But at that time I was intensely prejudiced against him, a 
 feeling that was stiU far stronger against the officers who were 
 his friends. Many years afterwards, when I had the privi- 
 lege of becoming intimate with him, I became much 
 attached to him. Endowed with the most genial disposition 
 and the warmest of Irish hearts, he endeared himself to all 
 who knew him well. His sympathies are always with both 
 individuals and nationalities whom he conceives to be 
 oppressed. The fact that one of the opponents in any im- 
 portant struggle is much stronger than the other, no matter 
 which may be in the right, inclines him to sympathize with 
 the weaker side. The impression abroad in the Crimean 
 army was that he was over kind to even the glaring faults 
 of his best friends. 
 
 The Russian army was very indifferently handled through- 
 out this badly planned battle, and its commander gained 
 no practical advantage from the serious loss he sustained in 
 killed and wounded. 
 
 175 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 My Last Night in the Trenches 
 
 MY last tour of duty in the trenches was the night of 
 August 30 — ^just a week before the final assault on 
 September 8 — when at about five p.m., in company with 
 Lieutenant Dumaresque, of the Royal Engineers, I reached 
 the Tool Park behind the first parallel, commonly known 
 as Gordon's, or the Twenty-One Gun Battery. When 
 going on and returning from duty, I usually rode from 
 camp dowji the Middle Ravine, to where the picket of that 
 name was posted, and from which a trench ran up the hill 
 communicating with the right of Gordon's Battery. The 
 engineer park of tools, etc., etc., was immediately behind 
 and nearly in the centre of that battery, and in it the 
 engineer officers and non-commissioned officers usually 
 assembled at each relief to arrange the distribution of duties 
 and working parties for the following twelve hours. 
 
 The siege was drawing to a close. We all felt it could 
 not go on much longer, for our losses in killed and wounded 
 per week were then great, and our little army could not 
 bear that strain much longer. No more battalions were 
 to be had from home or the colonies, and the untrained boys 
 sent out to us as drafts were only soldiers by courtesy. 
 They were in every way inferior even to the poor narrow- 
 chested creatures wFcT now usually constitute about _one- 
 half of our home army. , The head of our sap was then 
 
 176 
 
MY LAST NIGHT IN THE TRENCHES 
 
 still about 200 yards from the ditch of the Redan. That 
 approach was the left of the two new saps we had lately 
 pushed forward from the fifth parallel, at a distance of 
 some 300 yards apart. These were being executed 
 under considerable difficulties from the very rocky 
 nature of the ground, the close proximity of the enemy's 
 works and of the rifle pits made by the Russians 
 between them and us. This was specially the case 
 with the left of these two approaches, where a sub- 
 sidiary branch of the Middle Ravine on our right formed 
 an easy and a sheltered road from below to the Redan 
 plateau, over which we were trying to push these advances. 
 This natural road enabled the Russians at night to bring 
 up troops, collected below in the ravine without our know- 
 ledge, and with them to pounce upon our covering parties 
 and to rush the " approach " behind them. Here let me 
 say, that long experience has taught me that all well-dis- 
 ciplined troops who are bold enough to attack in the open 
 by night invariably succeed, at least for the moment, and 
 often achieve some important permanent advantage. In 
 a siege they are often able in the first few minutes of their 
 success to destroy works that had taken many days and 
 nights of hard and perilous labour to construct. 
 
 These new approaches of ours towards what I may call 
 the enceinte of Sebastopol, were made under conditions 
 that would have horrified the mihtary engineers of former 
 times. With them it was a recognized law — as I had learnt 
 from text books — that no sap or other works should be 
 attempted in close proximity to the besieged place until the 
 artiQery fire of the garrison had been practically subdued 
 in that quarter. This was so far from being the case with 
 us at Sebastopol — a great naval arsenal, with immense 
 
 VOL. I. 177 N 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 stores of guns and shot and shell — that whilst we had at all 
 times to be most careful not to expend gun ammunition, 
 except during our regular bombardments, the Russians 
 were always ready upon any provocation to open a vigorous 
 fire upon our trenches. In fact, these two near approaches 
 towards the Redan were pushed forward by us whilst all 
 the guns in it and the adjoining works were ready to 
 come into action at any moment ; and they often did 
 so, there being, apparently, an unstinted supply of 
 ammunition in aU of their batteries. 
 
 The sappers having been told off to their respective 
 duties, it was arranged between Lieutenant Dumaresque 
 and myself that I should take charge of this left advance, 
 and try to push it on during the dark as far and as quickly 
 as I could. I was also to try before daylight to get some 
 good idea of the ground immediately beyond it, as a help 
 to the oificer who should be in charge the following night. 
 
 I soon reached what was to be my station for the night, 
 and at once reported myself to the lieutenant -colonel in 
 command of the troops there. He gave me a working-party 
 of 150 men, to whom T supplied tools, picks to one half, 
 shovels to the other. I had also fifty gabions ready to take 
 out to put in position beyond the head of this flying sap. 
 I knew there was a Russian rifle pit about 100 yards beyond 
 where I should be working, and this I felt it was necessary 
 we should take if we hoped to make any useful progress. 
 I begged the lieutenant-colonel to allow this to be done, 
 stating my reasons for urging the request, but he did not see 
 the matter in the same light. 
 
 There was upon this occasion, and too often throughout 
 the siege, a want of enterprise on the part of the field officers 
 commanding in our advanced trenches, and I think this grew 
 
 178 
 
MY LAST NIGHT IN THE TRENCHES 
 
 worse towards the end of the siege. Their great object 
 generally seemed to be, to keep things quiet during their 
 tour of duty, and to leave disagreeable work to those who 
 relieved them. Upon this particular night the lieutenant - 
 colonel was a middle-aged gentleman, and as I thought at 
 the time, devoid of all military zeal and enterprise. Person- 
 ally brave I have no doubt he was, but he lacked that hard- 
 ness of nerve required to order men to execute dangerous 
 duties. He was not the man who could coolly lead troops 
 under a heavy fire, and inspire them with confidence and 
 daring as he did so. This is the rarest quality of nerve 
 in man ; and of aU whom I ever knew, I would name 
 General Sir James Outram as having possessed it in a super- 
 lative degree. Whenever, my reader, you meet such a man, 
 mark him well, for he is born of God to command. 
 
 Having had a good look at the ground I was to work 
 over, with the help of an engineer sergeant and a few sappers 
 it did not take long to place my fifty gabions in position. 
 This addition to the sap extended it about thirty-five yards 
 nearer to the enemy, and if I could but make a trench 
 behind these gabions, and fill them with what I dug out 
 in making it, I knew that by the morning I should have 
 done a good night's work . I had soon distributed my work- 
 ing party behind the newly-placed gabions, but if I was to 
 avoid panics when so close to the enemy, and to get good 
 worth out of the working party, I knew well that I must 
 protect them from surprise whilst so employed.^ I urged 
 this necessity upon the officer commanding, and begged of 
 
 ^ The official diary of the siege is most inaccurate in all details re- 
 garding the events of this night in the Right Approach ; my memory 
 serves me well in all such matters, and those details up to the moment 
 of my being wounded are graven upon it, though I have ■written but 
 few of them here. i 
 
 179 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 him to push forward a good line of double sentries. But, 
 as was only too usual, I found him much disinclined to do 
 as I wanted in this matter. I could only induce him to 
 push out a few men towards the enemy as a covering party. 
 I accompanied him to post them, but he would not listen 
 to my request to take them out to where I wished him to 
 post them. As it was, they were not more than about 
 twenty yards beyond the furthermost of the fifty newly- 
 placed gabions, and all my remonstrances upon the inade- 
 quacy of his precautions against surprise passed unheeded. 
 I may as well mention here that men so used in advance, 
 when as close as we were then to the enemy, generally 
 crawled forward into position, and when there, either knelt 
 or lay down, their rifles at full cock, ready to blaze at 
 any one who approached them in front. Twenty or thirty 
 well nerved men so placed, and firing cooUy into any smal] 
 sortie, were always quite enough to drive it back. But by 
 night even the most courageous often think they see an 
 approaching enemy or other dangers, which have no exist- 
 ence except in their own heated imagination. I have 
 many times known the bravest soldiers on a dark night 
 make absolute fools of themselves. When the human eye 
 and mind are for some long time on the strain by night 
 (and the darker it is the more probable the delusion), 
 neighbouring objects are apt to assume distorted propor- 
 tions. Stones become men creeping towards you, and a 
 few scrubby bushes are, by the heated imagination, easily 
 mistaken for bodies of the enemy. Those who have done 
 much night picket work know this weU, and how the most 
 serious panics have generally their origin in the most trifling 
 occurrences. We do not sufficiently practise night opera- 
 tions during peace. 
 
 i8o 
 
A NIGHT WORKING PARTY 
 
 The ground was rocky, with very little earth, and our 
 gabions were therefore mainly filled with stones. In this 
 condition they are very dangerous, for when struck by a 
 round shot, these stones are sent flying about like the bullets 
 in a round of case. No one spoke. Orders were given 
 in a whisper, and all smoking was strictly forbidden. But 
 the clatter of our tools on the rocks and stones must have 
 soon drawn the enemy's attention to our locality, and I felt 
 from the first that we should not be left long unmolested. 
 
 The men had set to work with a will, for all knew that 
 the harder they picked and shovelled the sooner they would 
 secure at least some little cover and protection from the 
 enemy's bullets. All went well until past midnight, and 
 my spirits rose, only to be soon dashed down all the lower. 
 It was, I believe, about one a.m., the gabions being then 
 more than half fuU, when from close by us there suddenly 
 burst forth that jackal-like Russian yeU, then familiar to 
 us. Its weird rasping and discordant note grated upon the 
 ear, for it had nothing in common with our manly and 
 imposing British cheer. It meant of course a sortie. In a 
 moment the few look-out men in our front were back upon 
 us, aU breathless from running, and for the instant bereft 
 of reason. The Russians were close at their heels. Nothing 
 is so infectious as sudden terror, especially in the dark. 
 In the first blush of its alarm it often converts staunch, 
 brave men into senseless cowards. This instance was a 
 striking example, for at once panic seized my working 
 party, and all ran for their Uves as if the devU were after 
 them. 
 
 Up to this I had spent the night in walking up and down 
 behind the men at work, and when this alarm was given I 
 must have been about their centre. In my anxiety to stop 
 
 i8i 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 them, I jumped down into the shallow trench they had dug, 
 and caught one of the crowd by his belt behind as he was 
 rushing madly towards the parallel in rear. I must have 
 been tumbled over by the rush of others behind, for I was 
 trodden on and a little " knocked out of time " as I struggled 
 to my feet. When I had done so, I found myself alone in the 
 trench with the Russians on the far side of my partially 
 constructed parapet. I can stUl see the face of the Russian 
 soldier who, in apparent surprise, peered at me from the 
 other side of the gabion where I was. In another moment 
 I should be a prisoner, for a line of half filled gabions alone 
 stood between me and that dreaded fate. There was 
 nothing for it but to run ; this I did without a minute's 
 hesitation ; and I must confess, oh, my reader, that my pace 
 was no dignified regulation double, for I went as fast as my 
 legs would carry me. I had only to run about sixty or 
 seventy yards to reach cover amongst the trench guard in 
 the parallel, but even in that short run the indignity of my 
 position was painfully present to me. The consciousness 
 that I was running away maddened me, and when I once 
 more found myself amongst those who had beaten me in 
 that discreditable race, I freely vented upon them the anger 
 I felt at the ignominious part I myself had been compelled 
 to play in the affair. I spoke my mind pretty freely all 
 round, and in a fever heat of rage I abused them as a pack 
 of cowards. My indignant epithets were too much for the 
 British soldier, for in the twinkling of an eye, maddened 
 evidently by my reproaches and ashamed of their panic, 
 they, without orders from any one, rushed pell-mell over 
 the parapet with that glorious cheer which only men of 
 British descent can give. There are no soldiers in the world 
 who could have withstood such a charge ; not even the 
 
 182 
 
A RUSSIAN SORTIE 
 
 Russian, and they are about the most stubborn of all 
 fighting men. 
 
 In a shorter time than it takes me to write this, we were 
 back again in our flying sap. But alas ! in the few minutes 
 during which the enemy were in possession of it they had 
 torn down the greater part of my fifty gabions, and had 
 rolled many of them down the hill to a small graveyard 
 in the bottom of the ravine to our right. 
 
 My working party and I were now on much better terms, 
 the men in good fettle and ready to do anything I asked. 
 I told the unadventurous lieutenant-colonel commanding 
 in the parallel that I could do nothing until he had taken 
 the rifle pit which I had previously pointed out to him, and 
 which seriously interfered with the progress of our work. 
 It was within a hundred yards of us, and was a source of 
 constant danger. He had now realized how much he was 
 to blame for having refused to take it when I asked him, 
 early in the evening, to do so. He now consented to its 
 capture, and it was carried in daring style by a fine gallant 
 feUow, Captain Pechell, of the hard fighting 77th Regiment, 
 and I was at last given a sufficient party to protect me 
 against surprise from the ravine on our right. We soon 
 picked up the gabions that had been rolled down the hiU, 
 and having replaced them in position, the men were quickly 
 at work again refilling them. I felt sure it would not be 
 long before the enemy would open fire from the Gervais 
 battery, whose guns, between five and six hundred yards 
 off, bore directly upon our sap. I had been told to examine 
 the ground beyond the spot where I should leave off work 
 at daybreak, and to inform the of&cer who relieved me m 
 the morning what it was like, etc., so that the further 
 progress of the sap might be all the easier to project. This 
 
 183 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 could only be effected in the dark, and as soon as my work- 
 ing party was once more in fuU swing I went to the furthest 
 end of the sap, where I began, as best I could in the very 
 dim light around me, to sketch the position in my pocket 
 book. A sergeant of the Royal Engineers was with me,' 
 and two of his men at the end of the sap were just behind 
 me. I discussed the lie of the ground in front with the 
 sergeant, but as I did so my eyes wandered constantly 
 in the direction of the above-mentioned battery. Pausing 
 for a moment, I gripped with my left hand a spike of the 
 gabion in front of me, and at that instant the flash of a gun 
 from the very spot I was looking at dazzled my eyes. I 
 had just time to cry " look out," when I was lying on the 
 ground in a confused heap with the two sappers who had 
 been standing behind me. I think I was under both, but 
 I was certainly under one. As the sergeant — who mar- 
 vellously escaped unliurt — subsequently told me, both were 
 killed ; one had his head taken off, the other had a shoulder 
 and lung carried away. 
 
 I don't loiow how long I lay unconscious in that horrible 
 heap of mangled humanity, but out of dim hazy recollections 
 comes one little half-dazed fancy of returning reason. I was 
 certain I was alive, but equally sure that I had lost the top 
 of my skull. I longed to put up a hand to examine my head, 
 but shrank from doing so because of what seemed to me, 
 in my dazed state, the horrible certainty that if I did so 
 my fingers would inevitably dabble in my exposed and 
 protruding brains ! My next remembrance is of being 
 
 '^ Alas, when I was wrecked I lost my trench pocketbook and 
 am not sure of the sergeant's name, but I think it was Godfrey All 
 the sergeants of the Royal Engineers whom I knew in the trenches 
 were brave soldiers and very capable and superior men. 
 
 184 
 
BADLY WOUNDED 
 
 marched slowly off, the engineer sergeant supporting me 
 mider one arm, a private under the other. At a funeral 
 pace we thus wound our way through the narrow boyaux 
 for nearly half a mile to the doctor's hut immediately behind 
 the quarries. I was still dazed and could barely walk from 
 drowsiness. I must have presented a horrible appearance, 
 for my left cheek lay down over the collar of my shell- 
 i acket. I was much cut about the face and body with stones, 
 and covered with blood, not only from my own many 
 wounds, but from those of the two poor fellows who were 
 struck down with me. Though able to walk slowly with 
 help, I was too dazed to feel pain, and half asleep, I longed 
 to lie down and doze. I could not talk, nor could I have 
 stood alone from sheer drowsiness. Of my solemn pro- 
 cession to the doctor's shambles I remember only one little 
 incident, and I believe it was the noise it made that wakened 
 me to consciousness and so to a remembrance of it. As 
 we passed through the batteries in the quarries, where we 
 kept a large supply of picks and other tools, there fell all 
 round us a hail of small round shot — about one or two 
 pounds weight each — which rattled with great noise on 
 the shovels, etc. The Russians had of late been in the habit 
 of firing from very large mortars bucketfuls of these 
 small shot, and at times of hand grenades, into our nearest 
 batteries. The small shot was specially fatal, for in the 
 dark they could not be dodged as we commonly dodged 
 those shells whose whereabouts was indicated by their 
 burning fuses. The surgeon's hut was made with a splinter- 
 proof covering, somewhat like a magazine. There the 
 wounded were patched up sufficiently to prevent them 
 from bleeding to death until they could be taken to a hospital 
 in camp and thoroughly overhauled at leisure by a doctor 
 
 185 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 armed with all due appliances. Upon reaching the boyaux 
 leading to this doctor's hut, I found myself at the end 
 of a long queue of all ranks waiting their turn to be examined 
 and stitched up temporarily. The doctors were busy, 
 and naturally anxious to get one off to camp. When my 
 turn came, I was still too sleepy and stupid to state my case, 
 but the careful and attentive engineer sergeant was my 
 spokesman. They looked me all over. I had apparently 
 only one serious wound, though many ugly cuts and 
 scratches. My right eye was bunged up, and that they 
 bandaged, and were proceeding to stitch up my left cheek 
 when I remonstrated. I could feel something sticking in 
 my jaw, and told the doctors, who said it was my jawbone 
 that was broken. I insisted on further examination, which 
 ended in one doctor holding my head between his knees, 
 whilst the other with a forceps pulled out a large piece of 
 jagged rock.* I felt easier when it was out. The sergeant 
 got me a stretcher and four men, by whom I was carried 
 back asleep to my tent in the engineer's camp. There I was 
 overhauled by the Irish doctor attached to the engineers, 
 whose Connaught brogue sounds still in my ears. A good 
 and amusing fellow, but, I should say, a very indifferent 
 surgeon. In a few days I was well enough to stand the 
 journey in a cacolet to the hospital established at the 
 Russian Monastery of St. George, on the rocky sea coast 
 between Balaclava and Kamiesch Bay. It was at this 
 monastery that our telegraph cable had been landed. 
 Captain Sheehy, of the North Staffordshire Regiment, 
 
 ' The engineer sergeant, when he came to see me in my tent the 
 next day, brought me this stone wrapped up in a very blood-stained 
 piece of newspaper. I kept it for some years as a trophy more 
 curious than pretty. 
 
 l86 
 
IN HOSPITAL 
 
 was the assistant engineer in charge there. He and I had 
 shared the same tent in the engineer camp during the 
 summer, so I knew him well, and had a great regard for 
 him as a friend and a soldier. He was a brave dauntless 
 and amusing Irishman without a taint of guUe, and blessed 
 with the most loveable of unselfish dispositions.^ 
 
 "• He had converted into a dwelling place a cave amongst the 
 rocks of a steep gorge that led down to the sea. He took me in 
 there, and its semi-darkness soothed my lacerated eye, which has 
 never since been of any practical use to me. 
 
 187 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 The Fall of Sebastopol 1855 
 
 ON September 7 Captain Sheehy went early to the front 
 on business. Upon his return he told me he had learnt 
 in confidence, in the engineer camp, that the grand assault of 
 the Russian works would be delivered the following day about 
 noon. The French were to attack the Malakoff and the 
 little Redan, and we the great Redan. Few but soldiers 
 can fully appreciate how this news affected me in my then 
 helpless condition. Delighted beyond measure to think 
 that our day of triumph had come at last, glorying in the 
 anticipation of a great national victory, my selfish heart 
 sank within me : I could not help it — what a strange, 
 selfish creature is man ! My personal disappointment was 
 terrible. For several months before I had ceased to expect 
 I should survive until the end of the siege. So many of 
 those around me in the engineer camp had fallen, that I felt, 
 or thought I felt, that my own time must come sooner or 
 later. But what I had not contemplated was that I should 
 live until the assault was delivered and yet be cut off from 
 all share in it. I had done nearly nine months of trench 
 work, not in the left attack, where the engineer duty was 
 comparatively easy, but all spent in the right attack, which 
 was our real, our serious attack upon Sebastopol. I there- 
 
 188 
 
MY SERVANT'S PLUCK 
 
 fore felt it hard that at the end of all that long labour by 
 night and day, I should be cut out of what I, in my rebellion 
 against God's will and forgetful of His mercies to me, 
 deemed to be my just reward in the matter. 
 
 My friend started for the front after dinner, and I was 
 left in his lonely cave far from aU society, to brood over 
 what I thought was my unfortunate luck. I was in low 
 spirits. My good eye was stiU too inflamed to admit of my 
 reading, and I was indeed lonely and depressed. 
 
 Whilst thus brooding over what seemed to be my unhappy 
 fate, my servant, Private Andrews, of my own regiment, 
 came into the cave. I at once saw by his manner that he 
 had something he wanted to say to me. At last, with much 
 diffidence, first resting on one leg, then on the other, a sure 
 sign he had something on his mind that he disliked telling 
 me, he said he had just heard that our battalion was to form 
 part of the assaulting column detailed for the following day. 
 I looked at him from my unbandaged eye, feeling certain 
 of what he was about to say, and at last out it came : he 
 " could not allow his regiment to go into action without 
 him." I pretended I was angry, told him he was a fool, 
 as he would most probably be shot, for I knew him to be 
 as brave as men are made, but I felt drawn to him by his 
 announcement in a way I had never been before, much 
 as I had always liked him and admired his pluck. At last 
 I said : " Very well ; I wiU lend you a pony to-morrow 
 to take you to the goth Light Infantry Camp, but you 
 must promise to gallop back here as soon as the Redan is 
 taken." This he said he would do ; and accordingly 
 very early next morning he started off for a " day's outing 
 with a storming party," that had been told off to take a 
 very strong work by escalade, that was defended by about 
 
 189 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 the finest infantry in the world, by men in fact who were 
 
 fully as brave as our own. As I saw my faithful, 
 
 my very faithful servant, ride off, I felt inclined to cry ; 
 
 I felt deserted, " down in my luck," helpless and lonely. 
 
 The hospital huts where the doctors and patients lived 
 
 were a few hundred yards from me. I was thus alone in 
 
 my cave. It soon came on to blow so violently that even 
 
 the roar of our guns came to me feebly. Weak in strength 
 
 and in constant pain in my eyes, my wounds fastened up 
 
 with sticking plaster, I lay upon my bed listening to the 
 
 wind howling down the narrow rocky gorge upon which my 
 
 cave opened. I felt utterly miserable. The doctor came 
 
 at his usual hour and renewed my bandages, always a 
 
 pleasant relief to the wounded, and he strove to cheer me 
 
 up. He was a curious fellow, very attentive to his duty, 
 
 and very proud of his profession. He knew nothing about 
 
 horses, but had purchased one the day before, attracted 
 
 chiefly by its fine mane and taU. That morning his Greek 
 
 servant had run into his tent, holding up the tail which 
 
 had come off when he proceeded to groom the animal. He 
 
 was grotesquely sad over this affair, which he described 
 
 amusingly ; but seeing me so down in my luck, he strove 
 
 to cheer me up by laughing over his misfortune and at the 
 
 chaff that was in store for him, and at the prospect of having 
 
 to ride an almost tailless pony, amidst the jeers of his brother 
 
 doctors. We discussed the event coming off "in front," 
 
 but never doubted the result, and when he left me I could 
 
 not turn my thoughts to any other subject.! I went over 
 
 in my mind the pros and cons, and the chanc^E^Ta^nd above 
 
 all, what was at stake. I knew how much our men had been 
 
 ■ demoralized by the long siege. We had been for many 
 
 (months teaching them to avail themselves of cover, abusing 
 
 190 
 
I ATTEMPT TO MOUNT 
 
 them if they exposed even their heads over a parapet. Now 
 they would have to follow their officers over the open and 
 under a concentrated fire to assault very strong works 
 defended by a well sheltered European enemy, who would 
 shoot them down by volleys. A very long siege is destructive 
 to that discipline which is so essential to success in all 
 operations requiring reckless daring, but especially so in the 
 assault of places. » I could see the whole thing in my mind's 
 eye. With every parallel, every boyaux, every fold of 
 ground near our trenches and between them and the Redan 
 I was famUiar. I saw my own regiment — or rather what 
 then remained of it — huddled together in the fifth parallel 
 waiting for the signal. How I discussed to myself the 
 respective traits of my brother officers, how each would act. 
 How confident I was that whatever befel all would lead 
 their men straight. I had no confidence in our generals ; 
 brave men, but, with few exceptions, of little use as com- 
 manders, because, ignorant of war as a science, they knew 
 little of their duty as leaders. 
 
 Then I began to catechise myself. Why was I not there ? 
 Were my wounds of such a nature that I could render no 
 service in front ? I felt I could walk, and thought how my 
 conscience would for ever after reproach me for not being 
 there. Why should I not try and escape without the 
 doctor seeing me ? At last I could stand it no longer. 
 I dressed, took up a saddle and went some way up the hill 
 to a ledge where my remaining pony was fastened. I can 
 see him now : a httle weak grey thing, that looked miser- 
 able with his tail turned to the wind, whilst clouds of 
 sharp sand flew past him. On went the saddle, which I 
 could only girth up with much difficulty and very loosely, 
 for I was very weak. I tried to mount, but in vain ; my 
 
 191 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 strength was exhausted, and the dust blown by most violent 
 gusts into my face knocked me back as I strove to do so. 
 The one eye I could see with was still much inflamed, and 
 the sand now made it smart badly. Ashamed at my failure 
 I sneaked back to my cave, and kept carefully secret, even 
 from my host of the cave, the fact that I had made this 
 attempt, too shy to confess that in the mental agony of the 
 moment I had striven to carry my worthless body to the 
 spot upon which all my soul and thoughts at the time were 
 feverishly concentrated. I could not wish my greatest 
 enemy to undergo what I suffered in mind that day, and 
 especially at that instant. It blew very hard all the morn- 
 ing and afternoon, and as I lay on my two-foot wide camp 
 bed in the subdued light of the cave, my mind nearly worked 
 my body into a fever. 
 
 At last in came my faithful Andrews, and as I jumped 
 up on his approach I saw he was smiling all over. Hurrah ! 
 we had won ! He had gone into the Redan with his com- 
 pany and had come away at once, as he had promised me, 
 having galloped hard to be the first to bring me the good 
 news. He said the losses had been heavy, but he could not 
 tell me the name of any one hit. I was another man at once, 
 and sat down to write home. I was delighted at our national 
 success, and proud to think that my battalion had been, 
 as he told me, the first into that Redan at which I had 
 gazed with so much interest, almost daily, for the last nine 
 months. 
 
 Some two or three hours later Captain Sheehy, the owner 
 of the cave, arrived, covered with dust and looking glum 
 and downcast. I thought he meant at first to pretend 
 we were beaten, and then tell me the good news. " I know 
 all about it," I said ; " you can't impose on me, for Andrews 
 
 192 
 
FALSE NEWS OF SUCCESS 
 
 has been in the Redan, and came back here some hours ago." 
 His answer was : " That may be, but everything has gone 
 against us. We were in the Redan for nearly an hour, 
 but were beaten out of it. The whole thing has been 
 painfully mismanaged." I was struck dumb at this news. 
 The life blood seemed to leave my heart. I did not think, 
 nor at the moment care, about our loss, but of the honour 
 of England, the old fame of our army. It was galling 
 that the French should have succeeded whilst we had utterly 
 failed. I felt ashamed of our army, and yet I knew in my 
 heart, what I am now certain of, that the fault lay rather 
 at the door of those who planned the attack than with the 
 regiments who made it. 
 
 For several days after many of my brother officers came 
 to see me, and I heard from the lips of men who had entered 
 the Redan, and been a considerable time in it, what had 
 taken place, and I noted well in my memory their views 
 as to the cause of our failure. My engineer friends gave 
 me their side of the question, and being very soon after- 
 wards appointed to the general staff, I learnt the head- 
 quarter views upon it also. I think I soon came to know 
 as much of what had taken place, and was as well qualified 
 to express an opinion upon the various causes of the failure 
 as any one — I knew most of the actors, those who had 
 planned the attack, and those who had tried to carry out 
 their faulty plan. Examining the British scheme now with 
 a matured judgment and some experience of war, it is to me 
 extraordinary how men of ordinary military intelligence 
 could ever have hoped for success from it. It was as 
 faulty in every detail as it was puerile in conception. Sir 
 Harry Jones, the commanding engineer, was, in my opinion, 
 most to blame, for he at least ought to have known better. 
 
 VOL. I. 193 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 How any one who knew our narrow trenches could have 
 hoped that supports and reserves could be led through them 
 in time to be of any use to the troops who stormed is beyond 
 my conception. The French, whose leaders and whose 
 senior engineer officers were far better masters of their 
 trade, acted very differently. They had drawn a line, 
 as it were, with a ruler over the plan of their trenches from 
 the Middle Ravine to the MalakofE, and wherever that line 
 cut a parallel or a trench of any sort, there they placed a 
 party with picks and shovels to make a wide opening through 
 the parapet and trench the moment the signal for the assault 
 was given. The result was, that within a few minutes of 
 that signal being given, there existed a straight wide road 
 between the two points I have mentioned down which 
 poured, over the open, the columns intended to support the 
 assaulting body. Down that road there even galloped a 
 battery of horse artUlery during the worst time the French 
 had that day — when they were beaten out of the little 
 Redan — which came gallantly into action close to that work. 
 It was a splendid feat of high-spirited daring, worthy of the 
 best traditions of the French army. Whether it " was 
 war " or not I cannot say ; I do not care. The battery 
 was utterly destroyed, but the feat was certainly one of 
 those daring deeds that make history in an army, and which 
 go so far in a nation's life to make its men brave, and keep 
 alive amongst its people that intense devotion to duty 
 which causes their soldiers to die nobly for their country 
 and for its honour. It was a glorious, a noble example of 
 self-devotion, and I hope that amidst aU the many miseries 
 through which the French army has since passed, the 
 remembrance of this magnificently heroic feat of arms is still 
 cherished. 
 
 194 
 
FRENCH PLAN OF ATTACK 
 
 By this road the French assaulting columns received a 
 steady flow of support, whereas, when our advanced trenches 
 were emptied in the first five minutes of the closely packed 
 assaulting columns, empty they long remained. They 
 could only be refilled by the slow process of men following 
 one another like the tail of a kite, in Indian file through the 
 miles of zig-zags behind. In fact no sensible provision had 
 been made for affording the assaulting regiments any reason- 
 able or effective support, and yet even the military school- 
 boy knows that the first element of success in every assault 
 is a constant pressure of supports from behind. If any 
 gap of even five minutes' duration occurs in that line of 
 pressure, misfortune will probably ensue. It is that pres- 
 sure from behind which gives confidence to those in front. 
 Remember what a strain it is upon the nerves of poor weak 
 human nature to be in that front rank. It is not all com- 
 posed of heroes unless it is— as it always should be — com- 
 posed of daring, reckless volunteers. But no such call was 
 made. No appeal was addressed to the imagination or to 
 the fighting instinct of our men. Had volunteers been 
 asked for, a forlorn hope of say 200 dare-devil men and 
 officers would have given a chivalrous, an infectious interest 
 and energy and dash, and a reckless and romantic spirit 
 to the whole affair that was a sadly wanting element in all 
 the plans for the operation which culminated in our defeat 
 that day. 
 
 Every one who was responsible for the scheme of that 
 day's work bungled sadly, and upon them and not upon the 
 troops employed I unhesitatingly place the disgrace of our 
 horrible failure at the Redan. It was the commanding 
 engineer's business to have pointed out the impossibility 
 of effectively supporting an assault by troops marched in 
 
 195 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 single file through our miles of narrow trenches. Why 
 should I not write all that I felt at the time when the whole 
 thing was brought before me by the narratives of those 
 who had been first into the Redan and the last to leave it ? 
 But I refrain from doing so. Let the judges in this case 
 be men who did not personally know those who were respon- 
 sible. Subsequently in my career I came to know well 
 almost all the generals that day engaged, and I was able 
 to gauge their characters and their military value. 
 
 As soon as the leading battalion had entered the Redan, 
 General Windham, who was in command, evidently per- 
 ceived the hopelessness of the whole scheme our wiseacres 
 at headquarters had made for its capture. There were 
 no supports coming on, and apparently none that could 
 come on in time to be of any use. He then, in, 
 I suppose, the thoughtless hurry of the moment, decided 
 to do what the reputation of the bravest could not stand, 
 and what was without doubt the worst thing he could have 
 done, he decided to leave his command to shift for itself 
 without a leader, and go to the rear to look for support. 
 According to my views on the subject he should under no 
 circumstances whatever have left the Redan. He had 
 accepted the command knowing what the plan of attack 
 was, and if it was obligatory upon any man to have died 
 there that obligation was his. Our only chance lay in 
 having an able, vigorous general on the spot to arrange 
 for the defence of it with the troops he had, and they were 
 but a confused handful composed of many regiments. When 
 he went back he left his men without a leader, without 
 any one to teU the regimental officers what to do, or where 
 to place their men. Within forty-eight hours of the event 
 I had gathered from my brother officers who were in the 
 
 196 
 
OUR REPULSE AT THE REDAN 
 
 Redan up to the last moment, doing nothing and not 
 knowing what to do, that there was no one there to give 
 them orders or to make any arrangements for the defence 
 of the place they had taken. For it must never be for- 
 gotten that they did take the Redan, and the fact that we 
 were beaten out of it was not the fault of the gallant and 
 devoted soldiers who stormed it, but of those who planned 
 such a ridiculous assault, and who left them there without 
 support. 
 
 The French, when beaten, too often cry out, " nous sommes 
 trahis." The officers who entered the Redan that day were 
 incapable of making any such public or ridiculous charge 
 against their superiors, but in talking over with me, their 
 brother officer, the events of that day immediately after 
 their occurrence they were open-mouthed in their con- 
 demnation of those in authority who were responsible for 
 the plan of attack and for its execution. 
 
 I draw a curtain over my remembrance of what I learnt 
 from my brother officers, and from others, at that time 
 regarding this disaster. I content myself with saying that 
 had Sir Colin Campbell been given command of the whole 
 business, and allowed to make his own arrangements and 
 plans, and to employ the Highland Brigade, who had practi- 
 cally suffered no loss during the war, we should never have 
 been beaten out of the Redan on September 8. This is 
 only an opinion, but it is founded upon a fuU knowledge 
 of what took place, and as such I state it for what it is 
 worth. 
 
 When the military critic studies the siege operations 
 before Sebastopol, especially those carried on by the 
 English army, he must never forget how absurdly small 
 was the army by which it was undertaken. As for that of 
 
 197 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 France, its strength was being constantly added to. Rein- 
 forcements were poured into the Crimea by the Emperor 
 Louis Napoleon ; but we had none to send. We had no 
 Army Reserve to supply our losses in battle or from disease. 
 All that England could do was to send out one by one the 
 few weak battalions that had been left at home when the 
 army embarked for Turkey. Many of these — mine, for 
 instance — had been already freely bled in order to fill up 
 to war strength the regiments at first sent to Bulgaria 
 in the foolish hope of thereby frightening the Russian Czar ! 
 I think the 90th Light Infantry gave over a hundred of 
 its best Scotchmen to the regiments of the Highland Brigade, 
 and that was a serious loss to our already weak battalion. 
 In fact, we never had enough men to warrant us in takmg 
 the large share we did in the siege of Sebastopol. Had 
 any far-seeing wisdom guided our Royal Engineer counsels 
 when we first reached the heights above Sebastopol, we 
 should not have taken over the siege operations that were 
 involved by our occupation of the ground on which we 
 established our Left Attack. Had we thus concentrated 
 all our efforts upon what we named the Right Attack, that 
 is, upon the high ridge of land lying between the Middle 
 and the Woronzoff Ravines, we should have had quite as 
 much to do as the size of our army warranted. Our attack 
 would then from the first have been solely directed against 
 the Redan. I have no hesitation in saying that the main 
 element in the destruction of our army in the winter of 
 1854-5 was the inordinate strain thrown upon it by the 
 extent of front we from the first attempted to cover with 
 our siege operations. 
 
 On October i, 1854, the fighting strength of our army 
 was a division of cavalry and five divisions of foot, of which 
 
 198 
 
MILITARY SECRETARY'S LETTER 
 
 there were fit for duty about 2,000 sabres and 18,000 bayo- 
 nets, with the usual proportion of horse and field batteries. 
 We broke ground on the night of October 7, when our total 
 strength in sappers and miners was under 300 of all ranks ! 
 The aUied armies were never strong enough to invest Sebasto- 
 pol, and consequently the enemy were able to pour rein- 
 forcements into the place to whatever extent they thought 
 fit. To that fact we must attribute the inordinate length 
 of time to which the siege of a city, defended only by impro- 
 vised and unreveted works, was prolonged. 
 
 I was amply rewarded for any service I had rendered 
 before Sebastopol by being specially brought to the notice 
 of the Commander-in-Chief by General Sir Harry Jones, 
 and by the following letter from the mfiitary secretary 
 in answer to it. 
 
 Horse Guards, 
 
 October 8, 1855. 
 Sir, — Having laid before the Field Marshal Commanding 
 in Chief the letter which you forwarded from Lieutenant- 
 General Sir H. Jones, reporting the zealous and meritorious 
 manner in which Captain Wolseley, of the 90th Regiment, 
 assistant engineer, had performed his duty in the trenches, 
 and stating the high opinion which you entertain of that 
 officer, whose uniform zeal and good and gaUant con- 
 duct you consider to render him deserving of promotion, 
 I am directed by Viscount Hardinge to state that he has 
 caused this very honourable testimony to the merit of 
 Captain Wolseley to be placed on record, but as Captain 
 Wolseley has only been three years and about seven months 
 in the service, he is ineligible under the regulations to be 
 promoted to the rank of Major, for which otherwise, in 
 
 199 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 consideration of the service described by Sir Harry Jones, 
 he would have been happy to have recommended him. 
 I have the honour to be, 
 
 (signed) E. YORKE. 
 His Excellency General Simpson. 
 
 200 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 Appointed to the Staff — War Ends, 1855-6 
 
 THE doctors who attended me were strongly of opinon 
 that I should return home to obtain the best pos- 
 sible advice about my injured eyesight and I thought 
 so too. I resigned my position as assistant engineer, 
 for, Sebastopol having now fallen, I had no intention of 
 working any longer with that corps. I had been willing 
 to help in the glorious work of the trenches, but I had no 
 notion of settling down to make roads, construct watering 
 places, or to do the other camp work to which the Royal 
 Engineer officers would now be relegated, and which they 
 did so admirably. But all my plans were changed by 
 receipt of a message that Sir Richard Airey, the Quarter- 
 Master General, wished to see me. I was given to under- 
 stand that he meant to appoint me to his staff. I accord- 
 ingly rode over to Headquarters and saw him. I knew 
 him only by sight and reputation, but I knew that aU the 
 young Army looked upon him as the one eminently able 
 man we had amongst our generals. I longed to be on the 
 staff under him, for I knew it was the sure road to dis- 
 tinction if I did weU, and I knew that under him I should 
 learn my profession in the best school. When shown into 
 the little den at headquarters that he had as an of&ce, 
 
 201 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 there was an officer whom I knew well sitting writing at 
 a table in the comer. He was a clever fellow, and a bet ter 
 artist than he was a soldier. 
 
 Sir Richard Airey was very complimentary as to my 
 conduct during the siege, and said he had selected me to 
 serve on the staff under him. I thanked him and was 
 very grateful, in fact I was in the seventh heaven of delight, 
 when in a moment the offer became as it were a Dead Sea 
 apple in my mouth. He said he wanted a good man to 
 go to Constantinople to represent the Quarter-Master 
 General there, and as matters had not been going well, 
 and there was a great deal to do there, he had selected me 
 for the position. I grew crimson as he looked at me, but 
 pulling myself together with great difficulty, I said how 
 much flattered I felt by his selection of me for such a post, 
 but that nothing would induce me to take up any military 
 duty outside the Crimea. That if I left it at all it would 
 be to go home, as the doctors advised me, to see an oculist 
 in London. He was, or pretended to be, very angry, and 
 enlarged upon the importance of the post I had refused, 
 and then turning suddenly round to my friend in the comer, 
 
 said : " Captain , will you accept it ? " The answer 
 
 " Yes " was given with eager pleasure. He went, and 
 what is more, obtained a brevet majority at the end of 
 the war for his services there ! However, within a day 
 or two I was appointed all the same to be a Deputy-Assistant 
 Quarter-Master General, and was ordered to report for 
 duty to Major Bamston, of my own regiment, who had 
 been for some time on Sir Richard Airey's staff, and was 
 one of the very best officers, in fact one of the most efficient 
 men in the Army. We were at once sent off into the Baidar 
 VaUey with the French column that had moved out there, 
 
 202 
 
SURVEY AT BAIDAR VALLEY 
 
 our duty being to complete the military survey which the 
 Quarter-Master General's department had been long em- 
 ployed upon. The weather was lovely, the scenery very 
 pretty and enjoyable, and I was with the man I liked best 
 in my regiment. He was an able and a first-class staff 
 officer, who had graduated at what was then called the 
 Senior Department. I owe him a great deal, for he taught 
 me much, being many years my senior. It was a delight- 
 ful time of rest after the heavy siege work. I was soon 
 hale and strong again, my wounds were healed up and 
 nearly forgotten, though the loss of the sight of one eye 
 was a sad drawback to my pleasure. 
 
 We were always well in advance, sketching the ground 
 as far as we dared to go. One morning we were nearly 
 taken prisoners not many nules from Tchorgoon. We 
 had been in a village near the Russian outposts the day 
 before, and had made friends with the Tartar butcher 
 there. 
 
 We determined upon beginning our work that morning 
 from the neighbourhood of his house. As we reached it, 
 his wife, a very pretty young woman, ran out, and in a 
 most excited manner pointed to some smoking horsedung 
 on the road and then pointed towards the lances of a Cos- 
 sack patrol, the men of which, having at the same moment 
 caught sight of us, started at a gallop in our direction. 
 We had just time to turn and escape, for mounted on 
 English horses we soon left the Cossack ponies far behind. 
 All the Tartars in these villages hated the Russians, and 
 looked upon us as the Sultan's allies who had come to de- 
 liver them. They were consequently always most kind 
 and hospitable. The method taken by the butcher's 
 wife to make us realize that the Cossacks had just been 
 
 203 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 at her house was clever and effective, as we could not 
 communicate in words. 
 
 When the autumn weather broke, the roads soon became 
 bad, rain fell heavily, and it grew very cold at night. The 
 French force was withdrawn, and we returned to Army 
 Headquarters. I was at once posted to the Light Division, 
 then commanded by Lord William Paulett, commonly 
 known as " Ginger BiU " in the splendid regiment he had 
 commanded, now the Durham Light Infantry. 
 
 I served as Deputy-Assistant Quarter-Master General under 
 Major the Hon. Hugh Clifford, V.C, who was acting as 
 Assistant Quarter-Master General for Colonel James Airey. 
 Clifford was a most energetic, hard-working and practical 
 officer, not read in the science of his profession, but a 
 real soldier by instinct. He was, however, so over- 
 anxious to do everything himself that he seldom con- 
 signed to me any but the most subordinate duties. I 
 was only twenty-two, and he was much my senior in 
 age. It was no easy matter to make my seniors realize 
 that one so young as I was could know anything of 
 staff work. AH those around me in positions such as 
 I then held had been many years longer in the Army than 
 I had been, and looked upon me as unfit from youth for 
 my position.^ In the other half of the hut which I occupied 
 thenceforward until the army began to embark lived a 
 colleague of the same rank as myself on the staff. He 
 was a good, clever, odd creature, who liked to live alone, 
 
 1 Hugh Clifford subsequently served under me in South Africa, 
 and was to me, who had formerly served under him, a loyal, hard- 
 working staff officer. By his careful management he then saved 
 England many a hundred thousand pounds during the Zulu 
 War. 
 
 204 
 
THE HON." HUGH CLIFFORD 
 
 and did not care for any one's society. He knew little 
 of staff work, and had obtained his berth through family 
 interest. He was very amusing, but suffered terribly 
 from indigestion. One night I was roused by hearing 
 such a noise in his half of our hut that I called out, " What 
 on earth's the matter with you ? " The answer was, 
 " Oh ! nothing serious ; I am kept awake by a horrible 
 indigestion, and am only having some exercise with a 
 skipping rope to try and get rid of it." I wished him 
 and his skipping rope far away at the moment. At the 
 beginning of the war he had been in a Highland Regiment, 
 and when it received orders to embark for Turkey the 
 officers had a mess meeting to discuss what, if any, modifi- 
 cation of the Highland uniform and equipment was advis- 
 able in order to make it more suited for modern active 
 service. Many suggestions were made and discussed, but 
 before the meeting broke up, my tall friend rose and said 
 he had a proposition to make. " As they were aware," he 
 said, " they aU carried a knife and fork as part of their full 
 dress equipment, and his proposal was that they should also 
 carry a spoon ! " A moment of terrific silence followed his 
 speech, and then there burst upon him from aU quarters, 
 especially from the many English and Irish officers in the 
 battalion, a howl of execration. How dared he to thus 
 turn into ridicule the dress and appointments which they 
 had inherited from their Highland ancestors ? Happily 
 for him he was a Scotchman himself of undoubted lineage, 
 or they might in their rage have torn him to pieces. Of 
 course he made the proposal somewhat in ridicule of the 
 many crude ideas and suggestions put forward by others 
 upon the occasion. He was full of this sly, fine humour, 
 which made him a very pleasant companion, but which 
 
 205 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 did not upon the occasion I refer to commend him favour- 
 ably to his brother officers. He was, I imagine, too clever 
 for them. 
 
 Our second winter in the Crimea was a great contrast 
 to the first ; all our men were well housed in wooden huts ; 
 cooking was done under cover, and there was a sufficiency 
 of firewood and of food. The men were well looked after, 
 and we had a very good time of it. We had sports and 
 amusements for them in fine weather, and discipline be- 
 came somewhat " tightened-up " from the lax state into 
 which it had sunk from overwork, bad and insufficient 
 food, and also as a rebound from the strictness with which 
 aU military duties had been enforced prior to the war. 
 But the boys that came out with each draft from home 
 were worse than ever. One was ashamed to command 
 them. There were plenty of grown men to be had, but 
 the Government had not the wisdom to make the pay of 
 the rank and file in the Crimea good enough to tempt well- 
 grown men to enlist for service there. When will our 
 rulers awake to the necessity of paying the British soldier 
 at the market rate of wages, as is done in the American 
 army, which, as far as its members go, is, I think, the finest 
 army in the world? 
 
 In February, 1856, a horrible-looking little ruffian, who 
 had recently arrived with a draft from home, had mur- 
 dered an artilleryman in one of the light division hos- 
 pitals. He was tried by general court-martial and sen- 
 tenced to be hanged. It was announced that a free dis- 
 charge and £20 would be given to any man in the Army 
 who would act as hangman, but as no soldier responded 
 to this offer the authorities were in a difficulty. At last 
 a wretched little driver of the lately raised Land Trans- 
 
 206 
 
DIFFICULTIES AT AN EXECUTION 
 
 port Corps accepted the duty. As the prisoner's battalion 
 belonged to the Light Division, the arrangements for the 
 execution devolved upon its Assistant- Adjutant-General, 
 now General Sir Julius Glyn. A gallows was duly con- 
 structed by the carpenters of the Royal Engineers and 
 temporarily erected in a stable, where the volunteer hang- 
 man was carefully instructed how to perform his gruesome 
 work. During the night before the sentence was to be 
 carried out, the gallows was transferred to the high ground 
 immediately in front of the divisional headquarters and 
 erected where there was ample space for both Brigades 
 of the Division to parade around it. 
 
 To make sure of the hangman's presence at this parade, 
 he was kept for the night in our staff stable. The parade 
 was formed early the following morning, and General Lord 
 William Paulett commanding the Light Division, together 
 with his staff, were in position close to the gallows. Some 
 time passed, but the condemned man did not appear. At 
 last our Assistant-Adjutant-General was descried gaUoping 
 towards us. Upon reaching the gallows where the staff 
 were collected, he said in a somewhat excited voice, " Good 
 heavens, my Lord, the hangman pretends he is mad, and 
 positively refuses to carry out his bargain." Drawn up 
 in a body close by us at the gallows were the provost mar- 
 shal and the police sergeants of the Division. Lord William, 
 turning to the Provost-Marshal in the coolest possible 
 manner, as if he were giving the most usual order, said : 
 " Captain Maude, you will have the goodness to hang the 
 prisoner." I watched the dismayed captain's face as he 
 heard this order, and I thought he changed countenance. 
 But if he did so he soon pulled himself together again, 
 for he calmly turned round to his provost sergeants and 
 
 207 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 said : " Which of you will hang this man ? " One of 
 them stepped forward and said, " I will, sir." 
 
 I shall not dwell further upon the solemnity of the scene. 
 The " Dead March in Saul " was played in front of the 
 murderer as he was marched slowly round the division 
 and finally to the gallows, where he was hanged for his 
 cowardly crime. When the troops had marched away 
 to their respective parades, the little creature who should 
 have been the hangman was taken into a neighbouring 
 stable, and by order of the provost-marshal was there 
 and then soundly flogged. As this punishment was in- 
 flicted by the provost sergeant who had to perform the 
 unpleasant duty of executioner in his place I feel sure it 
 was carried out with no light arm. 
 
 Coming back from riding one afternoon in the winter 
 of 1855-6, I had just dismounted and gone into the staff 
 hut of the Division to report what I had been doing, when 
 suddenly the earth was shaken as if by an earthquake. 
 The hut seemed to rock and its roof to open. We ran 
 out, and looking to where the noise came from, saw a huge 
 pUlar of fire and smoke being shot up into the sky above 
 the siege-train park. A shower of falling bullets soon 
 rattled round on all sides, whilst the burning debris of 
 ammunition boxes and of other artillery material seemed 
 to fiU the air. Great flames burst upwards from the park, 
 and small explosions followed quickly one after the other. 
 Knowing the quantity of ammunition and of filled shells 
 there was in it at the moment, one felt it was only the 
 beginning of a possibly fearful catastrophe. My horse 
 having only just been taken to its stable was stiU saddled, 
 so I was soon galloping to the scene of this awe-inspiring 
 conflagration. It was not what had already exploded, 
 
 208 
 
AN APPALLING CONFLAGRATION 
 
 but the knowledge that the great amount of powder in the 
 park and of small arm ammunition in the windmiU close 
 to it might be ignited at any moment that impressed me. 
 As I neared the park, a considerable number of Congreve 
 rockets went up and exploded in all directions. For- 
 tunately they were without their sticks, so did not travel 
 far. Upon reaching the windmill, that stood to the right 
 of the light division, a fresh hail of bullets rained around 
 me. The violence of the first explosion had beaten in 
 the wooden roof of the mill, and it seemed that everything 
 burnable in the artillery park was already on fire. The 
 booming noise of exploding sheUs smote the ear on aU 
 sides, and columns of sharp-tongued flames shot up 
 momentarily through the surrounding clouds of dense 
 smoke. It was a truly appaUing sight ; men wounded 
 by the explosion were being carried off to a safe distance, 
 and in every sense hell itself seemed for the moment to 
 be open before and around us, all apparently expecting 
 each moment to see the earth crack into some great yawning 
 chasm and engulf us. A small amount of calm reflection 
 would have told each and all of us that as the windmill 
 contained nothing but smaU arm ammunition we need 
 expect no sudden explosion from it. But the miU seemed to 
 warn us to keep at a distance if we wished to avoid 
 sudden death, and few reasoned at the moment. Close 
 by, there was fortunately one of the chief watering-places 
 of the Light Division, where every blanket that could be 
 laid hold of was thoroughly saturated with water before 
 being passed up to the roof of the mill. A ladder was 
 brought from the Artillery Park and placed against the 
 windmill. A gallant young officer. Lieutenant Hope of 
 the Fusiliers, ran up the ladder, and was soon on the 
 VOL. I. 209 P 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 roof. In my mind's eye I can now see that tall, hand- 
 some fellow as he stood on the mill distributing the wet 
 blankets over the broken rafters of the roof, and emptying 
 the water buckets as they were passed up to him for that 
 purpose. His was a fine example of cool self-possession 
 and contempt for danger in the midst of appalling excite- 
 ment, and we were all subsequently very glad when the 
 Queen conferred the Victoria Cross upon him ; no man 
 ever deserved it better. A panic is, alas ! very catching. 
 But on the other hand, the cool daring of even one young 
 officer in any such sudden and very dangerous emergency, 
 will often — as in this instance— steady a mob of unreason- 
 ably excited soldiers. A self-possessed man like gallant 
 young Hope upon this occasion is often worth a king's 
 ransom to the nation. 
 
 In the spring of 1856 we had races in the Light Division. 
 We had had several meetings during the siege, and they 
 were a great source of amusement to all ranks. One of our 
 first "race meetings" had been, I think, in the early spring 
 of 1855. They were got up chiefly to amuse and put some 
 life into us, for all ranks were then somewhat depressed 
 in mind and body. At one of them I saw an amusing 
 incident. The races were for ponies — almost all the horses 
 had died during the winter — and as every officer owned a pony 
 the entries were numerous, but the animals were mostly 
 poor, weedy, badly fed creatures. At this meeting one of 
 the hurdles was a Uttle higher than the others, and every 
 pony refused it. There was no getting over it, when my 
 gaUant friend, the late Major Arthur Herbert of the Royal 
 Welsh Fusiliers, rode up on a big mule and said : " Gentle- 
 men, allow me to give you a lead over." He was a fine 
 rider, and putting his old moke at the hurdle, he cleared 
 
 210 
 
CAMP RACES 
 
 it easily, the others followiag the lead amidst loud laughter 
 and cheers from all ranks. The men always took a great 
 interest in these races, backing their own officers to win. 
 
 The mention of races reminds me of an amusing match 
 made, I think, in the autumn of 1855. It was of a clever 
 pony against a big hunter, each owner to construct four 
 out of the eight fences to be negotiated, all eight to be 
 fair hunting jumps. The owner of the horse of course 
 built up big walls and dug wide ditches, whilst the pony's 
 master made intricate and nasty doubles that very few 
 horses could manage, being too big to clear and yet too 
 contracted for a horse easily to jump in and out of. One 
 was specially constructed with two sets of extremely stiff 
 rails placed so close together that no horse could well jump 
 in and out between them. In each case the jockey had 
 secret orders not to attempt it until his adversary had 
 broken down one of the rails in his attempt to get over it. 
 The result was that as the two horses neared this double 
 their pace grew slower and slower, until at last both pulled 
 up before it, each saying, "After you, please," to the 
 other. The race ended there, but the general opinion 
 was, that as the fence in question had been constructed 
 by the pony's master, its rider was bound in honour to 
 have attempted it. 
 
 At the end of the war, some time before we embarked, 
 there were races on a grander scale, open to the French army 
 as well as to all our Divisions. An A.D.C. at headquarters 
 had a remarkably good hunter and very fast, which he 
 sold a week before the meeting came off to a well-known 
 Count in the French army. It won the principal race of 
 the meeting, and the excitement among the French of 
 aU ranks was great beyond measure, and amusing to watch. 
 
 211 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 I think it was a flat race, so the pace was fast throughout, 
 and if they had won a battle from us greater than Waterloo, 
 the rejoicings could not have been louder. They forgot 
 or ignored that the horse was English, had lived on English 
 oats, and had only been in French hands a few days or 
 weeks. Perhaps my words may be tinged with the feeling 
 of irritation which I certainly experienced at the time 
 when I saw the Enghshman thus beaten by a Frenchman 
 at a sport then essentially British. 
 
 When peace came in 1856, I may truthfully assert that 
 very many in our Army regretted it much, for we felt 
 that whilst at the final assault the French had won — and 
 they well deserved their brilliant success — we had failed. 
 Owing to the want of genius exhibited throughout on the 
 part of those who directed our siege operations, we deserved 
 to fail. I remember how sad I felt when the peace was 
 announced, though no personal considerations influenced 
 me. Indeed, as far as I was concerned, peace was more 
 to my interest, as I could not, according to Army regu- 
 lations, be promoted until I had been six years in the Army, 
 and I had then only served four. 
 
 When writing this my mind harks back to all my youth- 
 ful aspirations and ambition, to my determination to rise 
 in my profession or disappear in the attempt. I suppose 
 I must have had something in me that caused me to be often 
 singled out for positions far beyond my years, but I felt 
 at the time that my good fortune was the result of my 
 close attention to all duties, no matter how small, that 
 bore upon military work : to my insatiable greed for infor- 
 mation upon war, its science and its practice : to my study 
 of military history, to my intense love of fighting and of 
 all out-of-door amusements and manly exercises. So 
 
 212 
 
YOUTHFUL ASPIRATIONS 
 
 much was this the case, that I felt bound to control my 
 aspirations and conceal my longing for distinction, and 
 the real enjoyment which even the hardships of a soldier's 
 life afforded me. I was surrounded by men, plucky gentle- 
 men many of them — I daresay far pluckier than I was — 
 who, when put to it, would fight any one, and would fight 
 to the last. But they would do so as a matter of course 
 because they were gentlemen ; I did it because, in addition 
 to this feeling, I loved the sport, the occupation, the danger, 
 and the game of trying to overcome the difficulties of any 
 job that might be set me and the rapturous satisfaction 
 which success gave. Some of my companions did their 
 work in a more or less perfunctory fashion, because it was 
 their duty to do it. I threw my whole heart and soul into 
 the occupation, and deserved no credit for doing it, be- 
 cause in itself the work was a delight to me. 
 
 General Luders, commanding the Russian army in front 
 of us, paid the allied armies a visit in the spring of 1856. 
 It was arranged that he should review the French army 
 in the forenoon, and then with his staff have lunch at our 
 Army headquarters and review our army in the afternoon. 
 
 We laiew the French had lost in men very heavily during 
 the winter from disease. When the siege came to an end 
 we had little night duty, and were well fed, well housed 
 and our daily wants well provided for. On the other 
 hand, during the autumn and winter the French, for 
 economy's sake, had stopped the extra " field rations " 
 issued during the siege. The consequence was, that whilst 
 our men had abundance, our allies were badly provided 
 with food and comforts. They had recently buried many 
 thousands from typhoid fever in a graveyard near one of 
 their large hospitals, not far from our Headquarters, and 
 
 213 
 
THE : STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 we believed the number shown in their returns as "fit 
 for duty," did not exactly agree with their parade states. 
 Three staff-officers were told off to count their strength 
 as they marched past the Russian general. I was one 
 of those three, and we were posted at different points on 
 the marching-past line, so as to calculate independently one 
 of the other. All three computations were very much the 
 same, and made the number to be not more than about 
 30,000, and yet we knew they had turned out every man 
 they could. Our strength on this occasion was quite equal 
 to that of the French. -The anger of an enraged people at 
 home had wakened up our Ministers, and consequently 
 our troops were very well cared for between the fall of 
 Sebastopol and the declaration of peace. Besides all this, 
 our staff had been cleared of its most useless men, and 
 — for the most part — officers of military merit and ability 
 had been appointed to replace them. 
 
 Our review passed off weU ; the men were young, but 
 they had picked up a great deal, and thanks to good food 
 and a healthy life in camp, had grown and developed much 
 during the quiet of the past winter and spring. The High- 
 land Brigade was a splendid body of soldiers. It had 
 lost few at the Alma ; had not been at Inkerman, nor 
 was it during the winter of 1854-5 employed in the trenches 
 where constant work had decimated the rest of our 
 infantry. In fact, it had done extremely little trench 
 work at all, and had consequently lost few through dis- 
 ease, and we may assume that those few were the weakly 
 men belonging to its historic regiments. Unlike all our 
 other Brigades it was a better fighting body than when it 
 landed at Eupatoria. According to my estimate of troops, 
 it was the finest Brigade I ever saw in any country. As 
 
 214 
 
PARADE OF THE ALLIED ARMIES, 1856 
 
 its battalions marched past at a swinging pace, their 
 pipes playing " The Garb of Old Gaul," any nation might 
 indeed have been proud of them. They were the redeeming 
 feature in our " show " upon that occasion. 
 
 2\.r-> 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 The Army Embarks for Home — I Reioin the 
 90th Light Infantry at Aldershot, 1856 
 
 WHEN it was decided to embark the army, Colonel Ben 
 Halliwell, Assistant Quarter-Master General to the 
 4th Division, was sent to Balaclava to report upon the manner 
 in which the army embarked and upon the appliances used in 
 the operation, etc., etc. I scarcely knew him, but on my merits 
 he asked to have me as his assistant, so I reported myself 
 to him forthwith. Colonel Jock Mackenzie, the very able 
 Quarter-Master General's officer at that place, had left for 
 England to give evidence before the Royal Chelsea Committee 
 which was the outcome of a report by a Colonel Tulloch, and 
 a Doctor McNeill upon the alleged failure of Sir Richard 
 Airey in the performance of his duty as Quarter-Master 
 General in the Crimea. 
 
 Colonel Robert Ross, of the Argyle and Sutherland High- 
 landers who had been Mackenzie's Deputy- Assistant at Bala- 
 clava throughout the war, was now in general charge there. 
 An old captain and brevet-major who has been a good adju- 
 tant and was subsequently a very good regimental command- 
 ing officer — but with no genius of any sort — was helping him, 
 and we all four messed together in the crowded little village 
 of Balaclava. Colonel Hcilliwell was an eminently able and 
 useful staff officer, a first-rate artist, a remarkably good mili- 
 
 216 
 
LIFE AT BALACLAVA 
 
 tary surveyor and draughtsman, and the best-hearted and 
 most genial of men. He was a universal favourite, and the 
 bravest of soldiers, the most loyal of subjects, the most 
 attached and lovable of friends. He was fond of good living 
 and wished to have champagne for dinner every day. This 
 did not suit the above-mentioned brevet-major, to whom 
 strict economy and saving money was the greatest pleasure 
 in life. He complained of the expense of our mess, so as a 
 concession it was arranged that we should content ourselves 
 with cheap claret except when friends were dining with us. 
 As our quarters, formerly the Russian commandant's official 
 residence, was a sort of " house of call " for all our friends, it 
 was seldom indeed that we dined without guests. But when- 
 ever it came to his ears that no one was expected to dinner 
 that evening, dear old Ben Halliwell at once disappeared to 
 prowl about the village bent upon picking up some stray 
 straggler to dine with him, so that he might be justified in 
 having his favourite beverage at dinner. Be it remembered 
 that we had been living for eighteen months chiefly on 
 garbage washed down by hot tea made with bad brown sugar. 
 Whilst at Balaclava embarking the army we lived well, and 
 Soyer, the French chef sent by our intelligent Government to 
 teach the British soldier how to prepare his food ! used occa- 
 sionally to cook for us. It was an expensive arrangement, 
 for whilst so employed he required to have his thirst — which 
 was always great — assuaged by copious draughts of cham- 
 pagne. He was a most amusing feUow, full of good stories, 
 which he told well. Asked upon one of these occasions if he 
 were married, he said, with a sigh, that he was a widower. 
 There was a little pause upon this announcement, and then 
 he described the many virtues of his late consort. But we 
 gathered from him that her temper was extremely irritable, 
 
 217 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 and from what he said she must have had a sharp tongue. 
 I daresay her patience was often tried by her laughing but 
 doubtless loving husband. Looking very solemn he ended 
 his story by saying he had buried her in Pere la Chaise 
 Cemetery, having inscribed on her tombstone, " Soyez 
 tranquille." 
 
 Colonel HalliweU had a wonderful soldier servant, whom he 
 usually dismissed about once a week, but who took no heed 
 of the dismissal and went about his work as if nothing had 
 occurred. He also had a wonderful horse called " Malt," 
 given to him by some relative who was a great brewer, hence 
 the name. He must have ridden at least eighteen stone, but 
 this horse carried him well, though it had received a bullet 
 through the nose at the Battle of Alma. 
 
 We made a pleasant trip to the Alma and to Bakt- 
 shiserai whilst I was at Balaclava ; Ross and HaUiwell, 
 both heavy men, in a Russian conveyance, and Colonel 
 Pocklington, a visitor from Malta, and I on horse- 
 back. I mounted the latter on my good bay barb, rode 
 a grey barb myself, and took my servant on a pony 
 — the best in some respects I ever had. Let me here 
 record what I gave for the horses I owned at the end of the 
 war, all bought in the Crimea. For an Irish hunter I gave 
 £50 or £60, and sold her to an officer for about the same sum 
 just before the army embarked for home. She was my best 
 mount ; for the bay barb I gave £60 to Count Gleichen — then 
 known as Prince Victor of Hohenlohe. For the grey barb 
 I think I only gave £25, though for work he was worth two 
 of the bay, but I bought him from an old French colonel 
 whom he used to kick off every time he mounted. He 
 was reaUy a very quiet, well-behaved animal, but had a trick 
 of kicking somewhat violently for the first few moments when 
 
 218 
 
EXPENSE OF STAFF SERVICE 
 
 you mounted him. For the bay Bulgarian pony — bought at 
 Brigadier-General BuUer's sale — I had given £25, and he was 
 worth twice that : his fault was shying,which I always thought 
 he did to amuse himself. A white baggage pony completed 
 my stable. He was a poor weedy animal, but docile and 
 steady with a pack saddle on his back. I do not remember 
 what he cost me. The two barbs were stallions. I could 
 find none to buy them when the army embarked, so I sent 
 them to Constantinople with two saddles, bridles, horse's 
 clothing, etc., where all were sold for £25, about the price 
 and value of the saddles and other horse gear that went with 
 them. For my bay pony I received thirty shillings, and the 
 grey pony, having carried my smaU kit to the wharf where I 
 embarked for home, I turned loose to be picked up by some 
 Tartar in search of an animal. I give these details because 
 I want to show how expensive it often is to serve our country 
 on the staff in the field. 
 
 One of the pleasantest trips I made about this time was by 
 sea in a steam tug to Yalta, where is the Czar's Crimean 
 palace. The world has not a more lovely spot ; the high 
 range of mountains coming down in terraces to the Black 
 Sea edge — a bluer sea on a fine day does not exist. The spurs 
 of these hills are entirely clothed with trees and the greenest 
 of bush and scrub, through which peep on aU sides the reddest 
 of rocks and scarped declivities, and the whitest of red-tiled 
 houses. The sun was very hot when I landed there one 
 Sunday — we had too much to do on week days for any amuse- 
 ment — and it seemed to draw from out this scenery of deep 
 and lovely tints a rich blue mist which appeared to vapourize 
 if not actually to spiritualize all the rich, highly- coloured 
 surroundings. I had, before the war ended, looked down 
 upon this coast from the Arch at the Phoros Pass over which 
 
 219 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 the Woronzoff road runs, where the traveller from inland 
 catches his first glimpse of the sea. I remember that as I 
 lunched there, drinking in the cool breezes from the sea and 
 lost in admiration of the exquisite view, I was still not un- 
 mindful that I might at any moment have had to gallop 
 away from some Cossack patrol, then often to be met with in 
 that neighbourhood. I remember also how the view over 
 Yalta and the Czar's palace had astonished me with its in- 
 tensely lovely colouring and beauty, and how its quiet 
 repose struck me from the contrast with my ugly surround- 
 ings in the noisy bustling arid dusty camp upon those 
 dreary rocky heights overlooking Sebastopol, which seemed 
 at the time to have been already my home for years. 
 
 I was one of the last of our army to leave the Crimea. As 
 I stepped on board the steamer that was to take me home, I 
 scarcely knew the little village I was leaving. There were 
 the same old ruined Genoese fortifications with their pictu- 
 resque, round flanking towers, and our wooden huts still 
 studded the distant valley, the village itself and the heights 
 above it. A few Tartars were listlessly moving about in 
 search of anything that might make their wretched homes 
 beyond the Tchernaya somewhat more comfortable. No 
 one else was to be seen in any direction. The crowds of 
 British officers and soldiers that used to throng its narrow 
 muddy streets all were gone — dispersed in many directions, 
 some to India, others to Mediterranean garrisons, to North 
 America, or to home stations : in fact I may say to every 
 quarter of the globe where our flag flies. 
 
 As we steamed out of the deep and land-locked little 
 harbour, so lately crowded with shipping, now without even 
 a boat upon it, there came back to my mind the thoughts and 
 hopes and aspirations of some twenty months before, when, 
 
 220 
 
OUR CRIMEAN AND SPANISH WARS 
 
 with my battalion, I first steamed into it. How very- 
 much older I felt since then. Men certainly do age 
 quickly on hard active service such as we had had in the 
 trenches before Sebastopol. I asked myself, " Had I done 
 well ? " "As well as I expected ?" I cross-examined 
 myself, and thought I might and ought to have done better. 
 I could not be promoted major until I had been six years in 
 the Army, and felt aggrieved that the time I had spent in the 
 field in Burmah and in the Crimea was not allowed to count 
 double. Had this been the rule I should have returned 
 home very proud indeed of being a major. But on the other 
 hand, when I remembered my hair-breadth escapes, how 
 near I had often been to death, I felt I was ungrateful to 
 Providence to complain, and consoled myself with the reflec- 
 tion that I must surely be reserved for something good, and 
 that the ambition I indulged in might yet be more or less 
 satisfied. 
 
 Thus ended our expedition to the Crimea, so full of event- 
 ful memories. I feel proud indeed of the manly courage of 
 my race as I think of the gallant men I served with there, and 
 I can never forget the uncomplaining manner in which ot^r 
 Rank and File endured want and misery in every form. 
 
 Our Crimean War cannot be compared to that we waged 
 in Spain early in the century, and yet it was full of dramatic 
 interest. The victory on the Alma did every credit to the 
 splendid discipline and courage of the British regiments 
 engaged. But the plan upon which it was fought showed 
 an utter ignorance of tactics on the part of whoever framed 
 it. No attempt was made to reap any strategic advantage 
 from its fortunate result, a fact that cannot be ignored by the 
 military student. The battle of Inkerman followed — that 
 battle so full of glory for the Regimental Officer, Non- 
 221 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 Commissioned Officer and private. But owing to the in- 
 capacity of our Generals we were there surprised, and were 
 only saved from destruction by the fighting qualities of 
 our race, and by the timely arrival of French troops to help 
 us. As long as men value the dogged determination which 
 characterizes the British people, the history of that battle 
 wiU be read with pride by all English-speaking men and 
 women. 
 
 Who that served with the army before Sebastopol can 
 ever forget the misery suffered uncomplainingly by our 
 soldiers in the winter of 1854-5 ? Companies then tried 
 their best to do the duty of battalions, and in most instances 
 a few men, weak in body from over fatigue and bad food, 
 represented the company. 
 
 I never had any pity for myself nor for my brother 
 officers, for once or twice a week we could afford to buy in 
 Balaclava enough wholesome food to keep us alive for days. 
 Besides, we all recognized the advantages of our position. 
 Rewards, promotion and the praise of friends awaited our 
 safe return home. But such were not in store for the most 
 commendable of patriots, the Non-Commissioned Officer and 
 the private soldier. An ugly silver medal was to be his 
 only reward ; yet he fought like a hero and suffered with the 
 steadfastness of a martyr. I wish I could put into suitable 
 words my admiration of his character. His devotion to 
 duty, his determination to maintain at aU costs the credit 
 of his regiment, is far beyond any praise that I can express 
 in words. 
 
 I know that our Generals and our staff were not what they 
 might have been under a different military system. But I 
 agree in the report of the "Select Committee" which, having 
 investigated this matter, put the saddle on the right horse, and 
 
 222 
 
A SHORTSIGHTED CABINET 
 
 condemned the Cabinet of 1854 ^-S the real author of our 
 misery. The crass military ignorance of that body was only 
 equalled by their baseness in trying to shift the blame 
 of our winter misery from their own shoulders to those of 
 
 Sir Richard Airey, the ablest officer, in my opinion, who 
 then served the Queen. 
 
 I Very few Secretaries of State in my time ever seriously 
 prepared for the possibility of our being engaged in any big 
 war. Mr. CardweU was indeed the first— may I not add, the 
 last — who during peace ever attempted to do this. Sooner 
 than incur the initial expense of doing so,they have seemingly 
 preferred to allow England to remain hopelessly unprepared 
 even for the effective defence of these shores, on the chance 
 that no big war might occur " in their time." Besides, why 
 thus add to their budget, when the chances are fairly even 
 that their political opponents might be in office whenever war 
 may be so forced upon us ? During peace we never have the 
 military stores required for the mobilization of the military 
 forces we depend upon for the defence of these Islands. 
 In fact, the great military problems which such an Empire 
 as ours involve are never duly considered, much less pro- 
 vided for. When war is thrust upon us, as it was recently in 
 South Africa, the nation suddenly discovers that we do 
 not possess the amount of guns, ammunition, saddles, har- 
 ness, wagons, etc., etc., required to place our army in the 
 field. We can't make them quickly enough ourselves, and 
 owing to the hostile action of foreign Governments we are 
 not allowed to purchase them abroad, as we recently found 
 to our cost. When anything goes wrong at the opening of a 
 campaign — and things must, under present arrangements, 
 always go wrong with us in any serious war — the cunning 
 politician tries to turn the wrath of a deceived people upon 
 
 223 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 the military authorities, and those who are exclusively to 
 blame are too often allowed to sneak off unhurt in the 
 turmoil of execration they have raised against the soldiers, 
 who, though in of&ce, are never in power. 
 
 And so it will always be, until poor deluded John BuU 
 insists upon a certificate being annually laid before Parlia- 
 ment by the non-political Commander-in-Chief that the 
 whole of the military forces of the Empire can be com- 
 pletely and effectively equipped for war in a fortnight ; or 
 should he be unable conscientiously to sign such a certificate, 
 he should be obliged to specify all our military deficiencies. 
 Who is it that objects to this necessary precaution against 
 disaster ? Not, certainly; the Commander-in-Chief; nor 
 any other soldier at the War Office. If this were made law 
 the people would insist upon our mobilization arrangements 
 being complete at aU times, and that the arms and stores 
 required to place in the field aU our military Forces were 
 in our magazines and ready for issue. But there woiild 
 never then be any such deficiencies, for England would insist 
 upon having them made good as soon as they were thus 
 reported to Parliair4Vll>>^Dk. ^^las, poor England ! some 
 
 vill have f6 pa'' 
 
 day or other she will have f6 pay heavily and seriously for 
 her folly in this respect. 
 
 Upon my return home after a short spell of leave I re- 
 joined my battalion at Aldershot. I had served in the 
 Crimea under the general of&cer who was our new Brigadier, 
 and he now often used me as his "galloper." The dear old 
 fellow was incapable of teaching us, for strategy was to him 
 a sealed book, and of tactics he knew as little as I did about 
 " the theory of original sin." But it was then by no means 
 an uncommon practice with our general officers to lean upon 
 some member of their staff and to be guided by him in 
 
 224 
 
I REJOIN THE 90TH LIGHT INFANTRY 
 
 their field operations. How could this be otherwise when 
 the greatest fool who had enough money to purchase promo- 
 tion had then only to live long enough to enable him to reach 
 the top of the colonels' list and be certain of promotion to 
 general's rank ! Some seven or eight years later I knew a 
 nice amiable little idiot, who having thus become a major- 
 general was " selected " — God save the mark — for an im- 
 portant command abroad. Before starting for it he said to a 
 group of old soldier-friends : " I know what my luck wiU be 
 there. I shall come in for some infernal mihtary complica- 
 tions, and of course I shall make a mess of the whole busi- 
 ness." He said he knew he was a fool, but had provided 
 himself with a very clever aide-de-camp upon whom he would 
 lean. That was, I believe, the wisest determination he ever 
 arrived at. All his prognostications turned out realities, 
 but he preserved his good manners and his very cheerful 
 demeanour throughout all his professional trials and failures. 
 
 Aldershot was a strange place in those days, and I can con- 
 scientiously assert that I never learnt anything there, nor 
 heard of any regimental officer wJio di^^ There was no one 
 there who was capable of tedBBgu^ The great Prince 
 Consort, through whose foresight and influence we had ob- 
 tained our first rifled musket that served us so well in the 
 Crimea and in the Indian Mutiny, had created Aldershot in 
 the hope that it would help all ranks to learn the practical 
 duties of soldiers in the field. It was one of his many laud- 
 able ambitions to improve our out of date Army and to make 
 it thoroughly efficient. The idea was a grand one, and if the 
 Army had never had any other good reason to revere his 
 memory the creation of that camp of instruction should 
 render it dear to us. But the manner in which the camp was 
 worked, and the military ignorance of most of those who 
 
 VOL. I. 225 Q 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 were then our instructors there, prevented it from fulfilling 
 the objects for which the Prince Consort had designed it. It 
 was a long time before it became a useful school for military 
 instruction. Sir Hope Grant — a real soldier, a real leader of 
 men, and one who thoroughly understood war — was the first 
 general in command there of any note. He knew what to 
 teach, but he lacked one essential quality ; he had great 
 difficulty in imparting instruction to others. I have known 
 many men employed there as Brigadiers who were from every 
 point of view absolutely useless. 
 
 The camp was then a somewhat rowdy place. A con- 
 siderable number of officers went to town every afternoon to 
 amuse themselves there, getting back by an early train next 
 morning that enabled them to be in time for parade. Several 
 of the battalions there had been in the Light Division with 
 us in the Crimea, so there was a considerable amount of 
 mutual entertaining. 
 
 Late hours were kept, and the evenings at our mess often 
 ended in an attack upon the quarters of one or other of 
 four lately joined subalterns who had practically no preten- 
 sions to the rank of gentlemen. They had been foisted 
 upon us from the Militia during the war, as any Militia 
 officer who could then induce a certain number of his men 
 to volunteer for the Line was given a commission. These 
 could be easily obtained upon pa5Tnent. These four Ensigns 
 were absolutely useless as officers, and we soon got rid of 
 them. I shall not enter into particulars lest some Secretary 
 of State for War, ambitious of popular applause, might 
 found charges upon them, and try me by court-martial for 
 my " ragging " schoolboy conduct when I was a young 
 captain. 
 
 226 
 
chaptp:r XVI 
 
 Ordered to China for War there, 1857 
 
 HAVING had some winter leave, I rejoined my regiment 
 in the Anglesea Barracks, Portsea, early in February, 
 1857, and found every one preparing for a war vsdth China. 
 
 Her Majesty's Government had at last fully realized that 
 our relations with that Empire could not, with due respect 
 to our national dignity, be allowed to continue on the footing 
 which her rulers were alone willing to accord us. 
 
 We had many outstanding grievances to settle, and 
 until they were fully redressed our mercantile relations 
 with China would be unsatisfactory. Our position at 
 Hong Kong and Shanghai, on the other confines of the 
 Celestial Empire, was extremely unsatisfactory, and very 
 imdignified. Diplomacy had completely failed to obtain 
 from the Pekin Government any practical recognition of 
 our national equality with it, and we were still regarded 
 by the Chinese nation generally as mere barbarian traders 
 on sufferance. This was not a pleasant position for the 
 proud sons of Britain ! 
 
 Many of our ablest consuls, who knew China best, said 
 openly there was no way out of the diE&culty except by war. 
 Nearly twenty years' experience had taught them that the 
 terms of peace we had exacted after our war with China of 
 1840-2, had in no way brought home to its people the convic- 
 tion that we had defeated them. It was now indeed evident, 
 
 227 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 not only to our merchants on the spot but to all our officials, 
 that we should never be regarded as equals by the people of 
 China generally until we either went to Pekin as conquerors, 
 or were of&cially received there with the highest honours as 
 an important and civilized power, as great in all ways as 
 themselves. 
 
 Our policy with China had long been essentially Chinese in 
 character. In a figurative fashion we had always attempted 
 to frighten the Pekin Government into compliance with 
 our demands by threats which corresponded in many ways 
 with the hideous masks and senseless flags with which the 
 Chinese imagined they could frighten us during war. 
 
 To us soldiers, the general position at the moment partook 
 much of the pantomime transformation scene from the 
 serious tragedy we had recently been engaged in before 
 Sebastopol, to the culminating crisis of a roaring farce before 
 Pekin for which we were now preparing behind the scenes. 
 
 At that period Lord Elgin, who was going to China as our 
 special Ambassador, seems to have been regarded as a sort 
 of " general utility man," who could with equal advantage 
 to the State be sent to any colony that was in difficulties, 
 or to settle any dispute with a foreign nation. 
 
 Our Ministers wisely determined to strengthen Lord Elgin's 
 hands by largely increasing our Navy in Chinese waters and 
 by the dispatch to Hong Kong of several battalions of the 
 Line. They recognized that, especially in the East, it is the 
 strong who gain diplomatic as well as military victories. Of 
 the battalions selected for this service mine, the 90th Light 
 Infantry, was one. 
 
 It was with great joy that I prepared to embark for active 
 service in China at an early date. Many of us found amuse- 
 ment in comparing the enemy we expected to meet there with 
 
 228 
 
UNDER ORDERS FOR CHINA 
 
 the splendid soldiers of Russia whom we had come to respect 
 highly in the Crimea. From books upon its " Flowery 
 Land," we gathered geographical information as to its great 
 rivers, teeming and intelligent people, highly cultivated 
 fields and its strange form of Government. What a con- 
 trast our life there would present in all its phases with the 
 time we had passed upon the bleak rocky plateau before 
 Russia's great Black-Sea fortress ! 
 
 Our whole battalion was composed of young men full of life 
 and spirit, and impressed with the one idea that the world 
 was specially created for their own wild pleasures, of which, 
 to most of us, war with all its sudden changes, and at times 
 its maddening excitement, was the greatest. 
 
 A campaign in this quaint Eastern Empire, after a length- 
 ened and dreary siege, had much that was promising for the 
 young soldier. So lately come from the deadly batteries 
 round Sebastopol, how great would be the change from the 
 long war against a first-class military Power to a short cam- 
 paign against a nation whose soldiers were still extensively 
 armed with pikes and cross-bows, and who still believed 
 in the efficacy of hideous masks and stinkpots I Poor 
 Chinaman, we laughed as we thought of the danger he was, 
 in his ignorance, about to face. 
 
 Whilst we were waiting for our troopships, we saw much of 
 the naval lieutenants then fitting out gunboats for service in 
 the China seas. As well as I remember, those boats were 
 known as " forties," " sixties " and " eighties " according to 
 their steam horse-power. None of them were bigger than 
 good-sized yachts, and as they could only carry coals enough 
 for a few days' steaming, they were to make their way round 
 the Cape of Good Hope under sail. It seemed a perilous 
 undertaking to us landsmen ; but what is it that our na\'al 
 
 229 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 officers ever consider perilous ? Indeed, at this time, every 
 young lieutenant was working heaven and earth to get com- 
 mand of these cockleshell craft. We had come to know 
 many of them in the Crimea, and they often dined with us in 
 barracks at Portsmouth. One, whom I shall call Robinson, 
 had won for himself the prefix of " gallows Robinson " 
 through his recklessness of danger and dare-devil exploits. 
 Sitting next me one evening I asked him how he meant to 
 carry his one six-inch shell gun in his small craft, and what 
 he meant to do if any of his men f eU ill. His gun was, he said, 
 to go in the hold as ballast until he reached Hong Kong, and 
 as for a doctor, he declared that he had that morning, when 
 inspecting his crew, told them there was a fine medicine chest 
 below, it was open, and they could all help themselves. With 
 that announcement he flung the key of the chest overboard. 
 All these gunboats reached their destination safely, and most 
 of them took part in Admiral Sir James Hope's daring though 
 unfortunate attack upon the Pei-Ho Forts in 1859, when our 
 Minister, Mr. Bruce endeavoured to reach Pekin by that 
 route. That attack was doomed to failure, and the attempt to 
 take the Chinese works by landing the saUors and marines 
 in the deep mud that surrounded them was a mad act. 
 
 It was at last decided that our headquarters and seven 
 companies were to embark in H.M. Troopship Himalaya under 
 Colonel Campbell, C.B., and the remaining three service com- 
 panies under Major Bamston' in H.M. Troopship Transit. 
 Of these three companies mine was one, and the following 
 narrative of events refers to the fortunes of this three-com- 
 pany detachment exclusively. 
 
 The strength of my company was over one hundred rank 
 and file. We had lost so heavily in the Crimea that most of 
 ' Both these excellent officers were killed before Lucknow. 
 
 230 
 
EMBARK FOR CHINA 
 
 our non-commissioned officers were very young, so much so 
 that my colour-sergeant had to be obtained from another 
 regiment. He was a fine looking feUow, but I never took to 
 him, and as I shall teU later on, having found that he did not 
 like being shot at, I got rid of him after our relief of Lucknow. 
 
 The Transit lot were to embark first, and we had a busy 
 time buying an outfit, not only for the expected campaign in 
 China, but for a station life in India afterwards. Young men 
 under orders to leave home for India are seldom careful of 
 their money, and I cannot say that I was any exception to 
 the rule. 
 
 We embarked at Portsmouth on April 8, 1857, a fine clear 
 day with sunshine, but as it was late before we got under 
 way we could not clear the Needles before dark 5 the captain 
 therefore resolved to anchor for the night in the Solent. 
 
 Besides our three companies, we had on board drafts for a 
 regiment that had long been in Hong Kong, and a consider- 
 able number of the Army Medical Corps with several doctors 
 and paymasters. The total number of troops on board was 
 between six and seven hundred of all ranks. The command- 
 ing officer was Lieutenant-Colonel Stevenson, a young cap- 
 tain and lieutenant-colonel in the Scots Guards — then called 
 the FusUier Guards — who was going out to be assistant ad- 
 jutant-general for the war in China. He is now General Sir 
 Frederick Stevenson, G.C.B., and Constable of the Tower. 
 A more devoted or gallant soldier, a more perfect gentleman, 
 an abler commanding officer or a better fellow never breathed. 
 I made his acquaintance the day we embarked, and I have 
 had the privilege to call him a friend ever since. I hoped 
 that I might also be selected for staff work when I reached 
 Hong Kong, as the general under whom I had served on the 
 staff in the Crimea, Lord WUliam Paulett, told me he had 
 
 231 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 recommended me for staff work to General Ashburton, then 
 commanding in China, and desired me to call upon that 
 officer as soon as I should reach China. 
 
 Early next morning, a little after daybreak, I was roused 
 by my servant, who coming into my cabin said in his excited 
 Irish accent, " Get up, sor, shure the ship's going down." I 
 told him to go away somewhat rudely, but he came back 
 quickly and repeated the statement, adding that the ship was 
 already half full of water. I shared the cabin with one of my 
 oldest and best friends. Captain Irby, who commanded 
 another company in our battaUon ; his servant soon came in 
 with the same story. The regimental call and assembly 
 made us both tumble out quickly from our berths, pull on 
 our clothes and run on deck to our respective rendezvous. I 
 soon found the story was true. Steam being up and the 
 anchor weighed, all hands were soon hard at work with the 
 pumps, whilst the steam pumps shot the water out in tons 
 over her sides, as we made for Spithead flying signals of 
 distress. We had anchored at high water too near the Isle of 
 Wight, and when the tide went out, the unfortunate ship had 
 sat down quietly upon her anchor, its fluke piercing her 
 bottom. This was not discovered until the following morn- 
 ing, when we had been for some time heaving-in our cable to 
 resume our voyage. 
 
 It was imperatively necessary for us to get into Portsmouth 
 Harbour with the least possible delay in order to get lashed 
 alongside a quay, where, without moving, our steam pumps 
 could be kept going at fuU speed. This fastening of the ship 
 to the shore was essential, for by an ingenious contrivance of 
 the man who planned this ill-fated ship, those pumps could 
 only be kept going at their quickest when the screw also was 
 revolving at fuU speed. But here intervened a serious naval 
 
 232 
 
THE UNLUCKY "TRANSIT" 
 
 difficulty which amused us soldiers very much at the time. 
 By Admiralty regulations — and they were imperative — no 
 ship was allowed to enter Portsmouth Harbour until she had 
 discharged her gunpowder. We had a large quantity of it on 
 board intended for the fleet and for our siege train in China. 
 When we reached Spithead the ship was already so low in 
 the water that aU the powder magazines had been long sub- 
 merged. But the captain did not dare to disobey the letter 
 of those regulations although their object had already been 
 secured, for the wet powder could no longer be of any danger 
 to the dockyard. Whilst our position was being slowly 
 spelt-out in flag signals to the admiral ashore, the captain was 
 obliged to keep his ship going round in a circle at full speed 
 at Spithead, for, as already said, it was only by doing so he 
 could keep his steam pumps going to prevent the ship from 
 sinking. At last, permission was signalled that our water- 
 logged old hulk might enter the harbour. There we were 
 soon tightly lashed alongside a wharf. When we left her 
 she was in the ridiculous position of steaming ahead full 
 power without moving an inch. All the troops were sent to 
 Her Majesty's ship the old Bellerophon, or Belly-ruffin as 
 Jack-tar called her, then a hulk in the harbour. 
 
 The ship was docked and the damage repaired in a few 
 days. The injured powder and stores were replaced, and 
 we again started for China. She had always been an ill-fated 
 ship. When she had taken the Houses of Parliament to the 
 great Naval Review held the preceding year at the end of the 
 Crimean War, she had broken down hopelessly during the 
 operation. I beheve she was obliged to have new machinery 
 put into her in consequence. 
 
 Nothing daunted by our first " false start " we tried again, 
 and were soon in very bad weather in the Channel. It blew 
 
 233 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 hard, and everything that could go wrong in her did so, and 
 everybody was thoroughly uncomfortable on board. I have 
 always pitied our rank and file when at sea, especially when 
 on board a Royal Navy ship, which is to the British private 
 the acme of discomfort. He is a much happier man on 
 board a hired transport, for in the latter every one is kind 
 to him. 
 
 The Transit was a wretched sea vessel ; she rolled heavily 
 and " made bad weather of it " in the rough sea we encoun- 
 tered in the Channel. But what was still worse, she was so 
 badly rigged that her shrouds soon began to flop loosely 
 about the masts on the side she alternately heeled over to- 
 wards in her long roUs. The consequence was, that the masts 
 wobbled about pretty freely, and it looked at one time as if 
 they must have gone overboard. Lashings were passed 
 round the shrouds of each mast at some distance below the 
 " tops," and by thus drawing them into the mast, the por- 
 tion below these lashings became sufficiently tight to keep 
 the mast in position. But this was only a temporary relief, 
 and the captain at last resolved to run in for Corunna, the 
 nearest port, for the purpose of refitting there. 
 
 We were all glad to get into harbour once more. What a 
 relief after the intolerable discomfort we had undergone for 
 the three previous days. We already began to realize that 
 H.M.S. Transit was an unlucky craft indeed. Conmna in 
 bad April weather is not an enticing seaside resort. But I 
 was delighted to have the chance of visiting the scene of Sir 
 John Moore's death — his last and weU fought battle. He 
 has always been to me one of our greatest heroes as well as 
 one of our very ablest generals ; a man who thoroughly 
 understood the theory of war and Imew well how to apply 
 it in practice. 
 
 234 
 
CORUNNA 
 
 As soon as I landed I hastened to the position where 
 Moore gave battle to the pursuing French army. What a 
 crowd of thoughts, recollections and aspirations passed 
 through my brain when I stood upon the very spot where, 
 forty-eight years before, in the cold month of January, that 
 great soldier had fallen in the hour of victory. 
 
 The position did not strike me as a strong one for an army 
 so small as his was, though it was the best to be found there. 
 
 As I stood where this great commander fell and thought of 
 his deathless reputation, my brain, my whole being was 
 stirred more than ever with the boyish wish that I too might 
 end my days upon some well fought field of battle. What a 
 privilege so to die for England ! " You know that I always 
 wished to die this way " were amongst the last words Moore 
 ever uttered. 
 
 The day I was at Corunna the weather was cold and dull, 
 moist and sunless, but not so cold as when the battle was 
 fought. Dark grey clouds were moving quickly through a 
 heavily-laden Biscayan atmosphere when I reached the 
 rampart of the citadel where the men who trusted and be- 
 lieved in their beloved leader had buried him by night. 
 They left " him alone in his glory," but the English Ministers, 
 the paid guardians of our national honour, left his grave to 
 become a ruin. It was painful to find his last resting-place 
 thus neglected by the nation for whose honour and reputa- 
 tion he had died. I felt how differently the ancients would 
 have testified their admiration for such a national hero who 
 gave all he had to give, his life, to an ungrateful country. 
 
 As I paused by this soldier's grave, I realized that no 
 neglect by Ministers could rob such a man of his fame nor dull 
 his glory. Although the remains of his political detractors 
 may lie in " dull cold marble," who even remembers their 
 
 235 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 names ? 'Who cares for the memory of Mr. Frere, whose advice 
 he so wisely refused to follow, whilst the name and the fame 
 of the hero whose bones lie in that neglected grave on the 
 Corunna ramparts will live for ever as a glorious asset in the 
 treasure-house of our national glory. All honour to the 
 noble-minded Spanish general who showed his respect for 
 Moore's memory by erecting a tomb over his grave. 
 
 A close professional examination of this campaign and of 
 Moore's character and ability have often made me ask myself, 
 if he had lived to return home in health and strength should 
 we ever have heard of Wellington, greater and abler though 
 he was in all respects than the hero who lies buried at 
 Corunna ? 
 
 Major Bamston and I had between us purchased Jomini's 
 History of Napoleon and many other military works on war 
 before starting, and we both studied them hard in our respec- 
 tive cabins. But as long voyages bear a strong resemblance 
 one to another I shall not attempt to describe ours in the ill- 
 fated Transit. We coaled at St. Vincent, where we found the 
 Himalaya similarly employed. I went on board of her to see 
 my brother officers and to compare notes on the events of the 
 voyage. She was then being warped-in from where she had 
 at first anchored to a buoy nearer shore for greater conven- 
 ience in coaling. As I walked the quarter deck with a friend, 
 the hawser employed in this operation parted, and she began 
 at once to drift towards the shore. The captain, who was on 
 deck, sang out to let go some particular anchor, and it was 
 done at once with true man-of-war rapidity. But if ever 
 there was a striking illustration of the proverb, " Vhomme 
 propose, mais Dieu dispose " this was one, for the anchor 
 instead of going to the bottom fell into an iron coal barge 
 then fastened alongside. No other anchor was ready, and 
 
 236 
 
SIMON'S TOWN 
 
 the ship began to drift broadside-on towards the shore. It 
 was an ugly moment, and one said inwardly, " What next ? " 
 Providentially, there was a brig at anchor between us and the 
 land, and it was evident we must strike her before our ship 
 could be on shore. This must have occurred to Captain 
 Chambers, of the Transit, whose gig was alongside, for he was 
 quickly on board the doomed brig, and with his boat's crew 
 succeeded in checking the Himalaya as she collided with the 
 brig by slowly paying-out that little craft's cable, until at 
 last she foundered. Sufficient time was thus, however, 
 gained to enable the Himalaya to " make sail " before she 
 sank the brig. It was a touch and go escape, for as the 
 Himalaya stood slowly outwards from the harbour under 
 sail — she had no steam up — we were not over a stone's throw 
 from the shore. 
 
 We put into Simon's Town, where we stayed a few days, 
 and I had one or two pretty rides in the neighbourhood of 
 Cape Town on fairly good hired horses, and my " stable 
 companion " on board — the best of comrades — went out 
 daily with his gun over the rough, wild land near Simon's 
 Town. He was a very good naturalist — and may he live 
 long to be so still — and was always in search of strange birds 
 and animals. A few days after we had left the Cape, I re- 
 marked a horrible smeU in our cabin, and upon snifhng about, 
 I found it came from the skin of a wild cat carefully pinned 
 upon a board to dry. In my anger I threw it overboard. 
 No allusion was ever made to it, but our relations were some- 
 what strained for a few days. He was, however, too good a 
 f eUow to bear ill-will. 
 
 Just as we were leaving the Cape a strange rumour was in 
 the air, though no one could say whence it came nor by whom 
 it was first put about. It was, that the native army of India 
 
 237 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 had mutinied. I was the only man on board who had ever 
 been in India, and I distinctly recall the fact of having been 
 appealed to in consequence as an authority on the subject, 
 and asked if I beheved it. My service in India had been 
 short, but short as it was I had often heard old Indians scout 
 the possibihty of Mohammedans and Hindoos ever combining 
 to make common cause against their Christian rulers. My 
 answer was consequently in harmony with this belief. 
 
 After leaving the Cape, we followed the usual sailing ship's 
 course, making due east towards the uninhabited little island 
 of Amsterdam. The weather was stormy in those low lati- 
 tudes, and the seas were high, until at last we ran into or were 
 overtaken by a cyclone. It is commonly supposed that most 
 if not all the East Indiamen that have been lost eastward of 
 the Cape have gone down in these terrific " circular storms," 
 and we very nearly did so. Our mainyard snapped in two, 
 and sails after sails, as they were set, were rent in pieces. We 
 had already an unsafe amount of water in the hold, and it 
 began to be whispered that we had sprung a leak. This soon 
 became an ascertained fact, and it was discovered there was 
 a rent over twenty feet long in the iron plates of the ship 
 below watermark. Every pump was kept going, and had 
 the gale lasted much longer we should never have been 
 heard of again, for during the twenty-four hours we had 
 pumped out some five hundred tons of water from the hold.^ 
 
 ^ A naval officer who was then on board this wretched ship wrote 
 to me in recent years to say that it was, under Providence, the 
 engine-room pumps which saved the ship from foundering in mid- 
 ocean. That had we not been %vTecked at Banca, any attempt to 
 have taken her across the sea from Singapore to Hong Kong would 
 have been reckless, as " the iron plates were hourly getting looser 
 and looser," He added that when the captain made his periodical 
 inspections of the engine-room, " he repeatedly requested that the 
 sinking condition of the ship might not be told to any of the military 
 
 238 
 
SMOOTH WATER IN THE TROPICS 
 
 But in the midst of all this danger we had some fun. There 
 was a doctor of high medical rank on board whose nerves had 
 given way amongst the many trials this unseaworthy ship 
 exposed us to. The cyclone was too much for him. But he 
 met with no sympathy from us light-hearted young men. We 
 took pleasure in carrying on conversations within his hearing 
 describing how the leak had spread to thirty feet in length, 
 and that each time the vessel rolled one could peer into the 
 green sea through the yawning aperture. It vvras amusing 
 to us but mifeelingly cruel to the poor nervous doctor. I 
 feel ashamed as I think of our behaviour towards him. 
 
 The weather brightened as we entered the Tropics, and as 
 we stood north towards the Strait of Sunda between Java 
 and Sumatra, the sea became as smooth as the proverbial 
 millpond. 
 
 officers ; the iron plates of the ship in the wake of the masts were 
 working quite loose, and rivets all but useless, the sea rushing in in 
 vast quantities." 
 
 239 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 Shipwrecked in Straits of Banca — News that 
 
 Bengal Army had Mutinied — Arrive in 
 
 Calcutta, 1857 
 
 THE naval officers of the ship told us their charts of 
 the seas and islands lying between the Straits of 
 Sunda and Singapore were inexact and bad. We passed 
 through the Strait July 9, 1857, and the captain decided 
 to proceed through the Straits of Banca, between the 
 island of that name to the east and Sumatra to the west. 
 The straits to the east of Banca, named Gaspar, were badly 
 laid down on the charts, and were studded with rocks, 
 each bearing the name of the ship that had foundered 
 upon it. After breakfast I went on deck and found we 
 had entered the Straits of Banca. It was a lovely stiU day, 
 not a ripple disturbed the mirror-like surface of the sea. 
 I was lighting my cigar from that of a brother officer when 
 I was shot forward upon him by the ship having suddenly 
 stopped dead. The masts shook as if they would go over- 
 board. The Transit had struck a rock, and in an instant 
 had become absolutely stationary. 
 
 The bugles sounded our regimental caU, and we aU ran 
 down to our men who were still below cleaning-up after their 
 breakfast. All the troops were carried on the main deck, 
 except one company, which was on the deck below it and 
 
 240 
 
SHIPWRECKED IN STRAITS OF BANCA 
 
 situated well forward. It was a horrible quarter below 
 the water level, and Ut only by one solitary candle lan- 
 thome. Each company took it for a week in turn, and 
 it was my company's luck to be the unfortunate occupants 
 when the ship struck. Upon reaching that dreadful 
 lower region I fell the men in, half on one side, the other 
 half on the opposite side of the deck. I told them there 
 was no danger — an allowable fiib which I hope the re- 
 cording angel did not enter upon my " defaulter sheet," 
 adding that no man upon any account was to open his 
 lips unless I spoke to him. 
 
 There we stood in deadly silence, and I know not for 
 how long. The abominable candle in the lanthome 
 sputtered and went out. We were in almost absolute dark- 
 ness, our only gUmmer of light coming down through a very 
 small hatchway which was reached by a narrow ladder. 
 The ship began to sink by the stern, so it was evident to all 
 thinking minds that we hung on a rock somewhere forward. 
 The angle of our deck with the sea level above us became 
 gradually greater, untU at last we all had to hold on to 
 the sides of our dark submarine prison. I remember 
 my own sensations then as well as I do what occurred 
 to me yesterday. My predominant feeling was of horrid 
 repugnance at the possibility, which at last became the 
 probability, of being drowned in the dark, like a rat in 
 a trap. I should have liked to have had a swim for my 
 life at the last, the supreme moment, but that would be 
 impossible if the abominable ship should slip off the rock. 
 
 " If Greece must perish, I Thy -will obey, 
 But let me perish in the face of day." 
 
 The only aperture even to the main deck, as I have 
 already described, was very small, and most eyes were 
 VOL. I. 241 R 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 kept riveted upon it. I am sure that every man now 
 alive who was there must shudder as he thinks of what 
 seemed to all of us the interminable time we were in that 
 pit. Every minute seemed an hour, but at last a face 
 appeared at the aperture ordering us on deck. What 
 a relief to us to be once more in the open air with a clear 
 blue sky overhead, even though the ship moaned and 
 creaked ominously, as if to warn us that she must soon 
 break her back and disappear for ever into those depths 
 known only to sharks and mermaids. 
 
 Very fortunately for us, there was about three-quarters 
 of a nule from where the ship struck a long, low coral reef, 
 which rose in the centre to a height of some fifteen feet 
 above its general level. With a man-of-war's crew and 
 plenty of soldiers to help, every boat in the ship was soon 
 afloat, weU provided with water and provisions, and all 
 laden with soldiers bound for this reef. How differently 
 affairs would have gone for us had we been in a mere 
 merchant vessel hired for the occasion as a transport. 
 
 What a boon to man is discipline ! If I could afford 
 it, I would erect a monument to that most admirable of 
 soldierly virtues. It is based on faith, for without faith 
 in your superiors aU discipline is but as an apple of the 
 Dead Sea in the mouth : it is only an outward form fiUed 
 with dust. 
 
 Everything connected with our landing went like clock- 
 work, and although our unlucky captain was never given 
 another ship, those who saw him that day, from the moment 
 the Transit struck untU every man was safely out of her, 
 felt the greatest respect for his cool courage and his calm 
 unruffled behaviour throughout. He gave his orders 
 clearly and deliberately as if it were an ordinary shipwreck 
 
 242 
 
OUR TIMID DOCTOR 
 
 practice parade. Few of us had ever spoken to him 
 during the voyage, and as none of us knew him, we never 
 troubled ourselves about him and cared nothing for him. 
 He was to us an instrument whose business it was to 
 get us to China, just as it was that of the steam engine 
 on board to work us there. But when we saw how he 
 acted in an emergency, which — coming after his previous 
 mishap in the Solent — must be his professional funeral, we 
 could not help admiring and pitying him. 
 
 I have always been a superstitious believer in luck, 
 and the end of the Transit and of those connected with her 
 went far to strengthen in me that illogical faith. She had 
 always been an ill-starred ship. As we pulled away 
 from her sinking wreck we were glad to think that the 
 Admiralty could never again send troops in that wretched 
 craft. 
 
 We were soon safely huddled together — one thousand men 
 in all — upon this coral reef, which was only about three 
 degrees south of the Equator. The heat was intense, 
 for there was no wind, and the sun streamed upon us with 
 a skull-piercing ferocity through our regimental forage 
 caps. The sailors, however, did not seem to mind it, and 
 worked all day with untiring energy with less protection 
 for their heads. They set us a good example of uncom- 
 plaining endurance under trying circumstances. 
 
 In the midst of our hard work that day, so wUlingly 
 undertaken by all ranks, I must not forget an incident 
 that even at such a moment afforded us much amusement. 
 I have already mentioned an old nervous medical officer as a 
 passenger, and this day must have been to him one of 
 superlative misery. He left the ship in the first boat 
 that carried any soldiers to the reef I have mentioned. 
 
 243 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 It was about an acre in extent, and there he ensconced 
 himself for some time. It presented a flat coral surface, 
 with a httle rising ground in the centre. When he had 
 landed the tide was low, though flowing, but in a short 
 time it began to overflow the flat surface of the reef. This 
 was somewhat alarming, so he once more shifted his 
 position to the higher ground. But the tide began to 
 invade this also, and every quarter of an hour it came 
 nearer and nearer to his feet. The imminent danger of 
 drowning, and of being torn by sharks, began to affect 
 him, but what could be done ? Where could he find safety ? 
 A brilliant idea apparently struck him ; why not get into 
 and stay in one of the boats then engaged in plying between 
 the reef and the wreck with stores and provisions ? No 
 sooner thought of than done, and into the stem sheets of 
 a boat he conveyed that body to which he alone amongst 
 us attached any value. But leave that position he would 
 not and did not until, night coming on, aU boats repaired 
 to the island of Banca, some two miles distant. He saved 
 his life, and in doing so afforded us aU much amusement, 
 and we wanted something to amuse us at the moment. 
 I do not know what became of him after we had started 
 for Singapore, but I hope it may not be my bad luck to 
 be associated with him in any moment of danger or hour 
 of trial in the next world. 
 
 Before I reached the island in the evening it was found 
 that we had landed close by a nice httle stream of good 
 fresh water. I was at once set to work to construct a 
 dam across it to prevent the sea running up at high tide, 
 and this I did successfully. We set all hands to work 
 at making temporary shelters for our men ; they were 
 easily and quicldy constructed, as the jungle afforded 
 
 244 
 
THE ISLAND OF BANCA 
 
 ample materials. For the first two days most of us lived 
 chiefly on pineapples, of which there were quantities near 
 the beach. No animals but monkeys were to be seen, 
 and at first no traces of man to be found anywhere. Many 
 tried boiled monkey in the hodge-podge of salt pork, salt 
 beef and beans we stewed all day for dinner. As we 
 partook of this horrible mixture each of us persuaded 
 himself that he was eating the salt- junk whilst his neighbour 
 fed on the baboon. 
 
 The jimgle came down to the edge of the sea beach along 
 the coast where we had landed, and we soon found little 
 paths through it which were duly explored. One or two 
 houses built on piles, after the fashion of the locahty, were 
 discovered, and at last a few inhabitants were encountered. 
 Beyond some cocks and hens nothing was to be obtained 
 from them. 
 
 How beautiful it looked, how refreshing and reposeful 
 to the eyes of those lately out from the stormy, angry 
 seas of latitude 38° south. Gutta-percha trees of great 
 size abounded, and amongst their branches swarms of 
 big monkeys disported themselves, grinning at the northern 
 barbarians who had invaded their territory. Great numbers 
 of parrots, of all sizes and of every bright hue, eyed us cun- 
 ningly from every point of vantage, making us realize that 
 we had not been cast upon an absolutely desert island. 
 We afterwards discovered that where we landed was the 
 spot upon which a British force had disembarked in 181 1, 
 though we could find no traces of their having done so. The 
 little stream of water may, however, have been the reason 
 why it was selected for the purpose. 
 
 Very soon after the Transit had foundered, a boat had 
 been dispatched to Minto, the chief town of the island, 
 
 245 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 for assistance, and a Dutch gunboat accordingly made its 
 appearance next morning to protect us and our wreck. 
 The Dutch authorities at Minto also sent a gunboat to 
 communicate the news of our disaster to the authorities 
 at Singapore. ' 
 
 As long as we remained on the island we kept our men 
 
 at work improving their bivouac, and the saUors brought 
 
 us sails from the wreck which made comfortable tents. I 
 
 was much better off than most of us, for when going over 
 
 the side of the Transit after my company had got into the 
 
 boats, my curious and amusing Irish servant came to me 
 
 and said with a sort of wink, " Never mind me, sor, I 
 
 wiU stay and try to bring you off some of your things." 
 
 When he rejoined me on shore he handed to me eighty 
 
 odd sovereigns, a couple of watches and some trinkets he 
 
 knew were in an old dressing case that had belonged to 
 
 my father, and, what was even more valuable, he had 
 
 emptied his knapsack of all his own things, and had filled 
 
 it with my flannel shirts, towels, pocket handkerchiefs, etc. I 
 
 think, my readers, you wiU admit that our rank and file, 
 
 not pertinently but impertinently styled " tommies," 
 
 are really the best fellows in the world I At least I know 
 
 them to be so, and all my young days when I lived amongst 
 
 them in the field I had good reason for my belief in them, 
 
 not only as soldiers of the Queen but as personal friends 
 
 of my own. The next day a sailor brought me a blue 
 
 dressing-gown I had used on board the Transit. He had 
 
 found it floating about in the ship. It was subsequently 
 
 one of the very few articles that formed my kit when I 
 
 crossed the Ganges by the bridge of boats at Cawnpore on 
 
 the following October 21, en route for the Alum Bagh, 
 
 near Lucknow. 
 
 246 
 
MUTINY OF BENGAL ARMY 
 
 After a busy stay of some ten days on the Island of 
 Banca, the Dove gunboat arrived from Singapore to look 
 after our welfare. Her arrival was a memorable event 
 in my life, for she brought the astounding news — confirming 
 the mysterious rumour we had heard at Capetown — that 
 the Bengal sepoys had mutinied, had murdered their 
 officers and restored the Mahommedan rule at Delhi. The 
 great Mogul, who had been so long a sort of Roi-faineant 
 in our hands, had been proclaimed as sovereign ruler of 
 aU Hindostan. I can remember no event that ever gave 
 Englishmen at home and abroad so great a national shock. 
 The Hindoo considered the Mussulman to be as unclean 
 a creatnre as his own white master, and the " true believer 
 in one God " only, despised the Brahmin as an idolater. 
 That the men of two such very antagonistic religions should 
 have combined and made common cause against British 
 rule seemed incomprehensible. Yet so it was. We had 
 long pampered this Bengal sepoy, as Sir Charles Napier 
 bluntly told the gentlemen who ruled India from Thread- 
 needle Street. But his warnings had served no useful 
 purpose. They only brought down upon him the bitter 
 enmity of the Quoi-Hai community both in England and 
 in India. 
 
 We also learnt from the Dove the joyful intelligence that 
 the destination of the 90th Light Infantry had been diverted 
 from China to Calcutta. That was indeed good news for 
 aU of us. 
 
 In due course, H.M.S. ActcBon arrived. She was a 
 sailing vessel employed on surveying duties, and had men 
 of science on board. It was a luxury to be once more 
 in comfortable quarters in the cleanest of ships. She 
 landed us at Singapore on July 23, where I first made 
 
 247 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 John Chinaman's acquaintance, and found him a most 
 interesting fellow in every way. We were put into some 
 large huts recently erected as a small-pox hospital, where 
 we quickly made the men fairly comfortable. Singapore was 
 then a great commercial port and swarmed with pig-tailed 
 men from Hong-Kong and Canton, and indeed with all 
 sorts and conditions of Europeans and Asiatics. After 
 a week's stay at that interesting city, our three companies 
 embarked in H.M. ships Pearl and Shannon, my company 
 being in the former. We started from our small-pox 
 hospital at 4 a.m. July 30, for the quay where we were to 
 embark. It was a distance of about a couple of mUes, 
 but it seemed a long one, for it poured as if Heaven's sluice- 
 gates had been opened upon us. When we reached our ship 
 we were as wet as if we had swum that distance to her. 
 Everybody on board vied in lending us dry clothes and 
 in making all ranks comfortable. The captain had received 
 orders to make all possible haste in getting to Calcutta, for 
 every white soldier that could be landed there at that 
 moment was worth much gold. 
 
 We were all anxiety to get there and overtake our head- 
 quarters and the seven companies who had already started 
 for it. " The more haste the worse speed " was fully 
 borne out in our case, for every sort of trouble seemed 
 to be in store for us. We began by losing a man over- 
 board, then another who belonged to the party that tried 
 to lower a boat to his assistance. We " knocked about " 
 for three days in the neighbourhood of the " Sand Heads," 
 before we could obtain a pUot to take us up the difficult 
 passage of the Hooghley River. At last we found one, 
 and reached our destination in safety, but too late to catch 
 our headquarters : they had already started up the river 
 
 248 
 
ARRIVE IN CALCUTTA 
 
 in boats towed by steamers. We anchored off a big 
 ghat, or landing place, off the native city, amidst a vast 
 crowd of native boats laden with fish, fruit and vegetables 
 for sale. Our captain fired twenty-one guns as a salute 
 to the Union Jack flying over the grassy slopes of Fort 
 William. It was an unusual proceeding, for men-of-war 
 very seldom went up the Hooghley. When the first gun 
 was fired aU the boats round us were to be seen flying 
 in every direction, many even were abandoned, the crew 
 having jumped overboard in panic, believing it was the 
 intention of this great sea monster to take immediate 
 vengeance upon the native inhabitants for the atrocious 
 murders and cruelties committed by the sepoys " up 
 country." The vast crowds that thronged the banks 
 to see the war vessel fled, as if for their lives, to obtain 
 cover from the vengeful Englishmen's shot and shell with 
 which they assumed our guns were loaded. To the 
 soldiers on board, always prepared to laugh heartily at 
 cowardice thus shamelessly acknowledged, this afforded 
 great amusement. 
 
 The guns that now welcomed us — part of the first regiment 
 that landed in India for the suppression of this dreadful 
 Mutiny — were fired from a spot close to where one of the 
 most tragic events in our Indian history had been enacted. 
 What Englishman has not heard of the " Black Hole of Cal- 
 cutta " ? The barbarous crime there perpetrated by the 
 fiend Surajah-Dowlah led immediately to the battle of 
 Plassey, which, fought just a hundred years before, may be 
 said to have inaugurated our great Indian Empire of to-day. 
 We were told that the old Indian prophecy that our rule 
 in Hindostan would last a century had had much to do in 
 bringing about the great Mutiny of 1857. This may have 
 
 249 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 been the case, but I don't think the prophecy would have 
 been realized had those who ruled the Bengal army been 
 blessed with a sounder knowledge of men and known 
 better how to govern soldiers. Under a Charles Napier as 
 Commander-in-Chief it would not, I think, have been 
 possible. 
 
 The condition of things in Calcutta when we arrived 
 was not pleasant. The native troops there and in the 
 neighbouring districts had been disarmed and knew they 
 were suspected. Many timid ladies slept each night in 
 Fort William, and it was said that some always carried 
 poison about them to take in case of emergency. Others 
 went to bed with revolvers under their pillows, and 
 practised with them daily at a mark. In these days of 
 peace it is not easy to reahze fuUy the fears experienced 
 then by our countrywomen in India. Many of those who 
 had been up country when the first murders were committed 
 had already reached Calcutta, and their stories of hair- 
 breadth escapes, and of the miseries they had endured 
 in their flight, were heartrending. The local newspapers 
 abounded in tales of murder and of crimes that made the 
 blood boU. 
 
 The morning after our arrival, a river steamer with a 
 " flat " attached to it came alongside, and into this we 
 were all transferred. Beyond our arms and accoutrements 
 we really had no baggage, so we were quickly under way 
 up stream for Chinsmra, a station about forty miles by rail 
 above Calcutta ; I have already mentioned it in an early 
 chapter. There we remained untU the last week of August, x 
 busily engaged in re-clothing our men, and in serving out 
 new arms, those we had brought from home having been 
 damaged by salt water during the wreck. Everything 
 
 250 
 
SIR COLIN CAMPBELL ARRIVES 
 
 was new to all ranks. We had not a native servant 
 amongst us, and none could speak Hindostanee. But we 
 were all young and lighthearted, and what does youth 
 care for difficulties ? 
 
 From the upper provinces there came daily news of more 
 regiments having mutinied and killed their officers. Up 
 to the last moment too many of those devoted Englishmen 
 had stoutly refused to believe their men meant mischief. 
 It was to this noble quality of absolute faith in the loyalty 
 of their men that most of these brutal murders were attri- 
 butable. 
 
 The stories our men heard daily of the barbarities 
 practised by the mutineers upon women and children, 
 especially of those that had taken place at Cawnpore, 
 inflamed their minds to a degree it is now difficult to realize. 
 I can speak from experience as to my own company during 
 its long march of over 500 miles, from Raneegunj 
 to Cawnpore. During the night they often caught armed 
 patrols of our native pohce, and when I released them, 
 explaining who they were, I many times heard my men 
 grumble because " the captain had let off another lot 
 of those d — d niggers." 
 
 Sir Colin Campbell reached Calcutta about the middle of 
 August, 1857, when the outlook in India was extremely 
 gloomy. The Bengal sepoy had been long pampered 
 by his officers. Some years previously. Sir Charles Napier 
 had proposed to disband the worst of them, and to bring 
 up all ranks of the remainder '-' with a round turn." But he 
 was hounded down by the Indian Government as a sort 
 of incapable madman. He was, however, a great soldier 
 and knew well what he was about, whilst they were Winded 
 and either would not or could not see the condition into 
 
 251 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 which the Bengal army had fallen. They pooh-poohed 
 the assertion that it had lost its old fighting qualities and had 
 become discontented. An officer who was on the staff 
 during one of our Sikh wars told me not long after the event, 
 that during one of their hard fought battles in the Punjaub, 
 the colonel of a sepoy regiment came to his general and 
 in whining tones said, " My regiment. Sir, has been cut to 
 pieces ! " " Has cut-away you mean and be d — d to them ! " 
 was the general's reply. My informant added they all 
 turned up when the battle was over. 
 
 Our battles in India before the Mutiny were almost 
 all won by the British soldiers of either the Royal or 
 the Company's service. But the despatches describing 
 those battles were too often filled with glowing encomiums 
 upon the valour and steadiness of the sepoy. From 
 their perusal the ignorant might not even have gathered 
 in some cases that any white private soldiers had been 
 present. 
 
 Major Bamston, who had known Sir Colin in the Crimea, 
 went to see him in Calcutta within a few days of his arrival, 
 and met with a cordial reception. In the course of conver- 
 sation upon the selection of staff officers, Sir CoUn said 
 that the East India Company had been given a long trial, 
 and that its rulers, civil and military, were directly re- 
 sponsible for the Mutiny. He added that as the Indian 
 officers had thus failed it was his intention now to give 
 the officers of the Queen's Army a turn to see if they could 
 not do better. 
 
 An army of Asiatic mercenaries is always a dangerous 
 army, even though it have English officers ; but it is worse 
 when its former military spirit has deserted the rank 
 and file, for it is then useless as well. This was to a great 
 
 252 
 
THE MILITARY POSITION 
 
 extent the condition of the regular Bengal army when 
 it mutinied. 
 
 Few remember now how very serious was the position 
 that Sir Colin had to face when he reached Calcutta. 
 At no previous period in her history had India — I use 
 the word as a geographical designation of our Eastern 
 Empire — been so deeply, so generally excited. From 
 Peshawur to Cape Comorin all classes in Hindostan, from 
 the royal rulers in Delhi, to the humblest ryot who tilled 
 the paddy fields of Bengal, aU felt the shock of this Mutiny. 
 How merciful the Great Ruler of all worlds was to us as 
 a nation in postponing this dire calamity until we had 
 finished our war with Russia. Without doubt, as a 
 nation possessing great fighting instincts, we shoidd have 
 manfully faced the double misfortune, but it must have very 
 seriously strained our resources. 
 
 To dwell upon what I conceive to have been the causes 
 which, extending over about twenty years, led, little by 
 little, to the military revolt, would be beyond the scope 
 of these memoirs. I content myself with saying that I 
 thought in 1857, s-i^^ think so stni, that the Mutiny was the 
 direct outcome of the foolish mode in which the Bengal 
 sepoy had been over-indulged by the Indian mihtary 
 authorities. 
 
 In August, 1857, the Doab, Rohilkund and the North- 
 West Provinces generally were practically in the hands 
 of the mutinous native soldiers. Meerut and the forts 
 of Allahabad and Agra were still ours, and Cawnpore was 
 held by the handful of British " lame ducks " whom Outram 
 and Havelock had left there when they marched for 
 Lucknow. Except that last-named city, and the little 
 post at the Alum Bagh near it, both held by insufficient 
 
 253 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 garrisons, all Oudh was occupied by the enemy, and its 
 warlike inhabitants were in arms against us. The Gwalior 
 contingent had not yet revolted, but rebellion had spread 
 over the greater portion of Central India. 
 
 Our power in the Bengal Presidency had so dwindled 
 away that in order to communicate with Delhi Sir Colin 
 Campbell, whilst at Calcutta, had to send his orders round 
 by Bombay, whence they passed up the Indus into the 
 Punjaub, and thence to the Mogul capital. 
 
 The sepoy troops who had mutinied at Dinapore had for 
 some time blocked the Grand Trunk Road between Allahabad 
 and Calcutta. But my battalion and the Northum- 
 berland Fusiliers, on their way to Cawnpore, had already 
 cleared away that obstruction. However, as long as we 
 could continue to hold Allahabad and Cawnpore on the 
 Ganges, we possessed two good bases from which to operate 
 against Oudh. The former was, for India, a strong 
 fortress, and could be reached by steamer from Calcutta 
 in from twenty to thirty days. By road it was only about 
 500 miles from Calcutta, of which 112 miles, as far as 
 Raneegunj, could be done by rail. 
 
 254 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 Forced March from Chinsura to Cawnpore 
 
 1857 
 
 THE great Mutiny of the Bengal native army in 1857 
 took the Enghsh world by surprise. We had no 
 serious warning that any such terrible trial, with its attendant 
 horrors and misfortunes, was in store for us. 
 
 My readers should remember that the Mutiny of 1857 
 was by no means the first we had had in India. Only 
 half a century before two native battahons at Vellore, 
 near Madras, had mutinied and murdered their officers, a 
 detachment of white soldiers, and a number of the India 
 Company's civil servants. Fortunately an excellent officer. 
 Colonel GiUespie, of the King's 19th Dragoons, was at 
 hand, who attacked the mutineers and kUled some 800 of 
 them. Other mutinies had been arranged to take place 
 that same day, but the sepoy regiments concerned were 
 disarmed in good time. 
 
 In 1824 a regiment of Bengal native infantry refused 
 to go to Burmah. When ordered to " ground arms " on 
 parade, in consequence of their refusal to embark, they took 
 no notice of the order. General Sir Edward Paget, then pre- 
 sent, was however equal to the occasion. He opened fire upon 
 them with canister, and they fled for their lives. 
 
 255 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 Upon more recent occasions of mutiny, whenever the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief in India felt it necessary to adopt serious 
 measures, the Court of Directors in London invariably strove 
 to pooh-pooh the necessity for them. They scoffingly described 
 the commander on the spot as an " alarmist," and his action 
 was generally decried at home as an evidence of his want 
 of sympathy with the sepoys under his command. Such 
 action on their part could not be too strongly condemned. 
 In an army of aliens, acting in their own country in the 
 midst of their friends and relatives, indeed of a whole 
 population who loathed and abhorred the religion and 
 daily habits of their officers, there must be no delay, no 
 hesitation to nip in the bud all incipient mutiny. The hand 
 of iron in a soft silk glove can alone keep such an army 
 in order at any time. But the East India directors, far 
 removed from the pulse of the native population, refused 
 as a rule to recognize the necessity for ever letting the 
 sepoys feel that the glove held within it an iron hand. 
 They were never prepared to act promptly and vigorously 
 when disaffection in any shape was shown by even a 
 section of their native troops. We won India by the 
 sword, and whilst humanity and a Christian spirit incites 
 us at all times to do what we can to make the sepoy and 
 the people generally happy, prosperous and contented, that 
 sword must be always kept sharp and ready for use at 
 any moment. 
 
 Whatever may have been the usually recognized theories 
 as to the best methods for the good government of India, 
 the directors were always very hard upon the general 
 in India who took immediate action to nip mutiny in the 
 bud by any strong measures. Their conduct towards 
 Sir Charles Napier when he disbanded a regiment for 
 
 256 
 
SIR CHARLES NAPIER 
 
 mutinous conduct illustrates what I mean. They desired 
 to hush this matter up by persuading the world that this 
 alleged mutiny existed only in the brain of the English 
 general, whom they feared and disUked. He was, I may 
 say, practically recalled in consequence, being condemned 
 as an alarmist. Fate had in store for them, however, the 
 disagreeable necessity of being compelled by the great 
 Duke of Wellington to accept him subsequently as the Com- 
 mander-in-Chief for India. This was in 1849, when the 
 disastrous battle of ChUhanwallah seemed for the moment 
 to have placed in jeopardy our rule over aU India. 
 
 MTien this great Mutiny burst upon us in 1857, the force 
 of white troops in India consisted of about 26,000 men 
 of the Queen's cavalry and infantry regiments — no Royal 
 ArtUlery then served in India — and there were some 
 12,000 local European artillery and infantry belonging 
 to the East India Company. All the Company's cavalry 
 were natives. The regular native army of India was about 
 200,000 strong, raised in three distinct forces, and called 
 after the three Presidencies to which they respectively 
 belonged. In addition to these forces there were a con- 
 siderable number of Irregular Regiments of horse and foot, 
 those belonging to the Bengal Presidency being mostly 
 raised after the Sikh War of 1849. These Punjaub regiments 
 consisted of fine fighting men, soldiers by instinct and by 
 birth ; Pathans, Punjaubee Mussulmans, Sikhs and even 
 Afridees from beyond our frontiers. The officers for 
 these regiments, carefully selected from the whole army 
 in India, were generally the best men to be found in it, 
 or indeed I might say in any army. These regiments 
 of Irregulars remained strictly faithful to us throughout 
 aU the vicissitudes of the dreadful Mutiny, and no men 
 VOL. I. 257 s 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 ever fought more gallantly than they did under the re- 
 markable officers selected to lead them. Under men like 
 Sir Dighton Probyn, Sam Brown, Hodson, Wilde, Vaughan 
 and other famous leaders, they could be depended upon to 
 go anywhere and attempt anything. But what soldiers, 
 British or native, would not fight under a leader like 
 Dighton Probyn ? Of him it might indeed be said that 
 he was a host in himself. The most modest of men, he 
 was remarkable, even amongst brave men, for cool pluck 
 and splendid daring at a time when the Bengal army 
 possessed many of the most dashing leaders who ever 
 fought for Queen Victoria. 
 
 Up to the date of Sir Colin Campbell's arrival in August, 
 1857, the British reinforcements had only reached Calcutta 
 in driblets, which were quickly used up along the line of 
 communications by the civil commissioners of districts. 
 He now began to coUect these little detachments into 
 battalions. But he was besieged by " officers of every rank 
 anxious to be sent at least as divisional commanders and 
 at the head of small columns independent of aU control." ' 
 He found that the civU authorities along the one great 
 line of communication between Calcutta and Cawnpore 
 interfered much with the progress of his troops towards 
 the latter city. These district commissioners were doubtless 
 quite correct in believing that revolt was brewing around 
 them and that it might burst into an angry reality at any 
 moment. It was natural, therefore, that each and all 
 of them should wish to retain some British troops in their 
 immediate neighbourhood. But when the whole of a 
 great country is very much in a similar condition it is 
 
 ' Letter from Sir Colin Campbell to Sir Hemy Lawrence of Septem- 
 ber 12, 1857. 
 
 258 
 
FORCED MARCH TO CAWNPORE 
 
 the " big soldier " alone who, taking a broad comprehensive 
 view of the whole position, can best decide where and how 
 he shall dispose his possibly insufficient forces to the 
 greatest advantage. 
 
 Delhi was at this time besieged by a gaUant but inade- 
 quate British force, and it could not be assaulted until the 
 expected arrival of General Nicholson with reinforcements. 
 
 By September 2 a battalion of the Northumberland 
 Fusiliers, seven companies of my battalion of the 90th 
 Light Infantry, together with Major Eyre's battery, making 
 in aU a force of six guns and over 1,200 bayonets, reached 
 Allahabad to join Outram and Havelock. This column 
 pushed forward to Cawnpore and fought their way thence 
 into Lucknow, literally at the point of the bayonet, upon 
 which occasion my battalion suffered considerably.^ 
 
 There were few railways in India then, though some 
 great lines had been planned. One along the right bank 
 of the Hooghley River had been already begun that was 
 intended eventually to connect our furthest provinces 
 with Calcutta. As yet, however, it had only reached 
 Raneegunj, 120 mUes from Calcutta. The two great navigable 
 rivers, the Ganges and the Indus, were the highways along 
 which our troops annually travelled from Calcutta and 
 from Kurachee into the interior. The headquarters of my 
 battalion had gone up country by the former in steamers 
 which towed big flats behind them. But that river was 
 
 * In the eight weeks between the date when the Headquarters 
 of the 90th Light Infantry reached the Alum Bagh, until the three 
 Companies of that Battalion under Major Barnston opened out 
 communications with the Lucknow Residency on November 17, 1857, 
 we lost in ofhcers, 9 killed, 7 wounded — 16 total. In the nearly 
 forty weeks whilst employed at the Siege of Sebastopol, our loss ia 
 officers was only 4 killed, 13 wounded — 17 total. 
 
 259 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 now, late in August, already low and was still falling, 
 making any movements of troops over it uncertain. It 
 was therefore determined to send our three Transit com- 
 panies by rail from Chinsura to Raneegunj, and thence 
 by road to Benares, Allahabad and Cawnpore to join our 
 Headquarters in Oudh. 
 
 The Grand Trunk Road over which we were to travel 
 was a splendid work. It extended from Calcutta to 
 Cawnpore, Lucknow, Agra, Delhi, the North- West Provinces 
 and the Punjaub. No body of troops had marched over 
 it between Calcutta and Allahabad since the Bengal native 
 army had mutinied, and from most of the districts through 
 which it passed the judges and other civil officials had 
 been driven away. We were warned of positions said 
 to be held by the enemy upon it, and were told that we 
 should certainly have to fight at some places, but our 
 instructions were to reach Cawnpore at the earliest possible 
 date. This was an unnecessary instruction, for from the 
 Commanding Officer to our smallest Bugler, all ranks and 
 all ages longed to push forward and get at the throats of 
 those who had brutally murdered English women and 
 children. 
 
 One company at a time was to move, with a day's interval 
 between each, and to travel at night by what was then 
 known as " BuUock Dak," at the rate of about thirty 
 miles a night. The sun would have been trying to our 
 men at that season, and we should never have been able 
 to get our bullocks along during the hot hours of dayhght. 
 It was hoped we should thus reach Benares in twelve night 
 marches. Each wagon was covered in and drawn by 
 two little bullocks. One was allotted to every two officers 
 and one to eveiy six men. Of these six men, two at a time 
 
 260 
 
OUR START BY RAIL 
 
 in turn, watch about, were to be always on foot, so no 
 wagon ever had more than four men in it at a time. One 
 third of the company, with its proportion of officers, would 
 thus be always on tlie road and ready to fight at any 
 moment. By this system of rehefs no man would actually 
 march on foot more than ten miles in the twenty-four 
 hours. We were to find fresh bullocks at every ten miles 
 • — so it was said — and to halt aU the day at specified staging 
 houses, commonly known as " Dak Bungalows." 
 
 A six-pounder gun was given over to me, for which I 
 was to find gunners from my company. 
 
 In accordance with the orders I received, I marched my 
 company — about loo Rank and File — to the Chinsura 
 railway station on the evening of August 29, 1857. 
 
 Upon reaching that station I found there was no 
 door [wide enough to allow my six-pounder to pass 
 through to the platform. It was too late to dismount it, 
 as the train was expected immediately. The station- 
 master, a half-caste who spoke English, said that if I 
 would take it down the line some three or four miles 
 I should find a cutting where he thought I might 
 manage to get it on a truck. This I felt to be equally 
 out of the question, so I determined to pull down one 
 side of the doorway that led into the station, and thus make 
 the opening wide enough for the gun. The poor half- 
 caste stationmaster was dumfounded. " His voice clung 
 to his jaws " with horror at the mere suggestion, and his 
 yellow complexion seemed to grow paler with each blow 
 from the crowbar of my stalwart pioneer upon the doorpost. 
 My poor railway official, finding that neither remonstrance 
 nor warnings, almost amounting to threats, had any effect, 
 at last contented himself with begging I would give him 
 
 261 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 a certificate that I had committed this crime, for such it 
 was in his opinion. This of course I did. We parted 
 amicably. I never heard any more about the matter 
 afterwards, though expecting to receive a bill from the 
 East India Company for " one railway station wantonly 
 destroyed, etc., etc." 
 
 In due course our train reached the terminus at Raneegunj , 
 where I found our bullock wagons and their nervous, fright- 
 ened drivers awaiting our arrival. Not one of my party could 
 speak a sentence of Hindostanee. I found, however, a half- 
 caste apothecary waiting for us there with a box of physic in 
 case of accidents. Although we never found it necessary to 
 test his medical knowledge, he was very useful as an inter- 
 preter throughout the long march to Cawnpore that we began 
 that evening. Like all his brethren, he was absolutely 
 wanting in energy and power of decision. I don't think 
 he took any soporific drug, but his expression always 
 seemed to indicate that he had either been very recently 
 asleep or was longing to sleep, or perhaps both of those con- 
 ditions of mind and body together. Neither my four 
 subalterns nor I had a native servant amongst us, so our 
 soldier servants did for us all we required, and that was very 
 little. We had no baggage, as aU we possessed had gone 
 down in H.M.S. Transit, and we had merely bought in 
 Calcutta the small amount of clothing necessary for an 
 out-of-door life in a tropical climate. It is curious how 
 little suffices for that purpose, as Sir Charles Napier in- 
 sisted when taking the field himself. I well remember 
 Tenniel's cartoon in Punch of that distinguished general 
 mounted on a camel, when suddenly ordered to take the 
 command in India after our disastrous victory at Chillian- 
 wallah. His kit was represented as packed in a small 
 
 262 
 
OUR VERY SMALL KITS 
 
 bundle and described as consisting merely of a spare shirt, 
 a towel, a piece of soap, and some few other necessary 
 articles. He had previously asserted publicly that some 
 such kit was ample for aU campaigning purposes. Those 
 who knew him, even by sight, thought he might have 
 omitted the soap. 
 
 At the moment, however, none of us thought much of 
 kits or personal comforts. We saw many things of great 
 interest to the ordinary traveller on our road to Cawnpore. 
 Beautiful Hindoo temples that had existed there in ages 
 when our barbarian forebears, clad in skins, had hunted 
 wolves on Cannock Chase. We passed mosques that 
 had been built by the Mahometan conquerors of India 
 many centuries before to celebrate their victories : but we 
 had then no time or inclination to admire, much less to ex- 
 amine the splendid creations of former Indian rulers : we 
 took no interest in such matters ; our work was with the 
 mutinous sepoys who had been " unfaithful to their 
 salt," had murdered English women and children, and for 
 their blood we were consequently athirst. To avenge 
 the murder of our officers was not in our thoughts. Their 
 business was to face death in all forms, and to die Hke 
 gentlemen when necessary, and the officers of our Indian 
 army did so most nobly upon all occasions throughout 
 this appalling Mutiny. But the remembrance of the treat- 
 ment our women and children had received at the hands 
 of these fiends roused aU our worst instincts. Of what 
 interest could be the scenery or the history of the country 
 we marched through to soldiers who thought only of 
 vengeance, and of their comrades then besieged in Lucknow 
 some 700 miles away. Let us get there as quickly as 
 possible ; we talked of nothing else. _We discussed whether 
 
 263 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 we should be in time to join General Havelock in his in- 
 tended relief of Lucknow, and never wearied of the theme. 
 
 Our daily marches averaged from twenty to thirty 
 miles, made mostly in the dark. It was the rainy season, 
 and those who have seen how it can rain in Bengal will 
 understand the condition in which we frequently reached 
 our halting places. The rivers were in flood, and crossing 
 them by night was often no easy matter. At some we 
 had to halt for hours before they subsided sufficiently 
 to admit of our fording them. 
 
 The river Soane was then about two miles in width, and 
 in it I spent the whole night, as did all my four subalterns 
 also, often up to the neck, pushing and hauling to get 
 our biollock carts over. All ranks worked hard, for 
 all were equally anxious to get forward. There was a 
 stern purpose in the countenance of the men that did not 
 augur well for the long life of the first mutineer they met. 
 But with all this, our night marching was somewhat trying. 
 At times the bullocks would lie down, when no blows 
 could induce them to get up. An old sergeant of my com- 
 pany taught me an infallible method for making them do it 
 without any beating whatever. One man held the animal's tail 
 straight out, whUst another clasped it between two walking 
 sticks. You had only to push the sticks two or three times 
 rather briskly up and down the tail, to make the most 
 recalcitrant bullock walk off with his cart at a quick, lively 
 pace and his taU straight up in the air. This rubbing 
 up the joints of the vertebrae seemed to tickle and electrify 
 them and make them happy for the moment : poor beasts 
 they seemed to have but little enjoyment : let us hope 
 this novel sensation may have relieved the monotony 
 of their lives. 
 
 264 
 
THE RAJ-MAHALL HILLS 
 
 In one of the districts marched through, the road was 
 patrolled at night by the men of a loyal Rajah. They 
 wore no uniform and their arms were primitive ; very 
 inferior tulwars and old matchlocks of the preceding 
 ceptury. These fellows were being continually pounced 
 upon as enemies by my men whose turn it was to form 
 the advanced guard. Our lazy apothecary had upon 
 these occasions to be pulled out of his cart, for like an idle 
 Eastern he never went on foot as all the officers did in 
 turn. After a few questions put to them by him we 
 ascertained who they were and released them. 
 
 The Grand Trunk Road crosses the pretty range of the 
 Raj-MahaU hOls. They were thickly covered with dense 
 forest, and I was assured that whilst the road was being 
 made through them by gangs of convicts, we had lost at 
 the rate of a man a day from tigers. It was a part of 
 the road where I was told to keep a good look out in case 
 of attack, not from tigers but from the Pandees, as our 
 mutineers were then commonly called.* When passing 
 through this jungly country one night, I was marching in 
 rear of the column, to prevent straggling, when the alarm 
 was given from the front. As I ran forward I found 
 the men all bundling out of their bullock carts, handling 
 their rifles, and fixing bayonets as they did so. I inquired 
 what the matter was, but no one knew, except that the 
 alarm had come from the front. I saw, however, as I 
 hurried forward, that several teams of bullocks had bolted 
 with their carts off the road. Upon reaching my six-pounder 
 gun, I found everything in confusion. The native bullock 
 drivers had run away, and the long team of gun bullocks 
 
 * This nickname came from a Sepoy named Miingal Pandee, 
 who was said to have been a chief instigator of this Bengal Mutiny. 
 
 265 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 had apparently tied themselves into a knot. It was a 
 bright moonlight night. No shot had been fired and I 
 could see no enemy. My half-awake apothecary was 
 set to inquire from the bullock men of the gun-team what 
 was the cause of the alarm. One of them explained that 
 as they were quietly proceeding along the road a tiger 
 had suddenly jumped in amongst the gun bullocks. It 
 had evidently missed its spring, and had taken up a position 
 under a tree not fifty yards from the road, where I saw 
 it plainly in the clear Indian moonlight. The whole position 
 was grotesque in the extreme. The Bengal buUock 
 scents a tiger when in its neighbourhood, and then terror 
 like a species of madness takes possession of it. Nothing 
 can be done with it. Its driver, without the same keen- 
 ness of nose, has a similar weakness of heart. 
 
 As the tiger stood looking at the strange spectacle, he 
 presented a tempting shot, and I felt much inclined to 
 try him with a rifle bullet. Some one near, evidently 
 doubting the correctness of my aim, suggested we should 
 fire a voUey, and my pioneer, whom I had constituted 
 master gunner during the march, pressed me to allow him 
 to try the tiger with a round of canister from his six-pounder, 
 and the men seemed anxious to make the experiment. 
 In the twinkling of an eye, however, I remembered Luck- 
 now's hard pressed garrison. If I wounded the tiger he 
 might wound one of my company. The matter might 
 be a serious affair, and would certainly delay us. Every 
 British soldier was of great value then and every hour 
 was of consequence. The amusement we expected from 
 firing our gun at him would not justify me in doing it, 
 so I discreetly contented myself with collecting our scattered 
 buUocks, and having reformed our usual order of march 
 
 265 
 
A TIGER BARS THE ROAD 
 
 I resumed our advance. As we did so, I could see the 
 silhouette of the tiger as it stood out distinctly in the clear 
 Eastern moonlight with the forest as a dark background. 
 He looked imposing, and I was glad to get so safely out 
 of this unpleasant meeting with a lord of the Bengal 
 jungles. 
 
 I shall not dwell upon any further incidents of our long 
 and arduous march. We reached Benares on the loth 
 and Allahabad on the 13th of September, 1857. 
 
 AUahabad interested me very much owing to its im- 
 portant position on the Grand Trunk Road, which con- 
 nected Bengal proper with our upper provinces. Its 
 fort had been built just two centuries before, and though 
 modernized, especially on the land front, much of the 
 work of its native founders still remained. It stands 
 in the fork formed by the junction of the Ganges and 
 the Jumnah rivers, and our barracks stood within this 
 strong, bastioned fort. Geographically it was, and 
 still is, a place of great consequence, as it commands 
 the navigation of both those rivers, and because the 
 mountains of the Central Provinces to the south 
 and south-west of it there narrow in the level country 
 which constitutes the valleys of those two great rivers. 
 It thus dominates the narrow strip of territory through 
 which our railwaj^s and roads run north-west and south- 
 east. 
 
 AUahabad was then held by a very weak garrison, 
 whilst Benares, the holiest and most important of Hindoo 
 cities, and then the hotbed of Hindoo fanaticism, had 
 not a European battalion in or near it. The fact that 
 no attempt was made by the ruling spirits in the Bengal 
 Mutiny to seize Allahabad and to hold it and Benares in 
 
 267 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 strong force, proved clearly there was not amongst them 
 any leader of real military ability. 
 
 The great Mahometan focus in this Mutiny was Delhi, 
 and a small army had been early sent there from the 
 Punjaub by Sir John Lawrence to retake it, and at the time 
 I write of were besieging it. AUahabad, the most im- 
 portant position between Delhi and Calcutta, became there- 
 fore the first and most vital point on our long line of 
 communications for us to make absolutely sure of. Had 
 it fallen into the hands of the mutineers a regular siege 
 would have been required to retake it. AUahabad in 
 the enemy's hands, all communication between upper 
 and lower India would have been extremely difficult. But 
 apparently, and happily for us, the general tendency of 
 the individual mutineer was to get to his home with 
 whatever loot he was able to lay hands upon where 
 his regiment had mutinied. Fortunately for us, 
 no great man arose in the upper provinces to take the 
 lead in this Mutiny. Had there been any very able 
 man, amongst the royal family of Delhi for instance, who 
 had had the sense to head a mutiny at the beginning 
 of 1855, when every soldier we could spare from our 
 ridiculously small army had been sent to the Crimea, our 
 trouble and difficulty would have been increased a 
 hundredfold. 
 
 A few British pensioners who had settled in India had been 
 collected in the Allahabad Fort, and to^it also all Englishmen 
 in the neighbourhood who survived the Mutiny had flown. 
 
 I shall not risk wearying my reader by any attempt to 
 describe our march in greater detail. One little episode 
 I will mention, because it gave then, and I believe still gives, 
 the British soldier's view upon the relative physical power 
 
 268 
 
A HALT AT FUTTEEPORE 
 
 and fighting instinct of all native races and of the 
 Englishman. On the march we had halted where there 
 was a small detachment of very fine native soldiers from 
 the Punjaub. In the cool of the evening one of them 
 began exercising his muscles with very heavy clubs, which 
 he handled gracefully and with the utmost ease. My 
 men stood round admiringly, and I asked my pioneer, who 
 was, I believe, the strongest man inthe company, if he could 
 handle them as well and as easily. His answer came at 
 once. It was " No, sir, but I'll fight any three of those 
 fellows." It is that belief in the superior pluck and 
 fighting qualities of our race that won us India and 
 stUl enables us to hold it. Had our men no such confi- 
 dence in themselves we should never have relieved Lucknow 
 nor retaken Delhi. 
 
 At Futteepore, a civil station some forty miles short of 
 Cawnpore, we overtook the company of my battalion that 
 had started one day before us. In a day or two the 
 company that had left Chinsura the day after we had done 
 so also arrived. All the companies of the Transit detach- 
 ment were thus once more united under Major Barnston, 
 to whom we were all devoted as the best soldier in the 
 Battalion. Disheartening news, however, awaited us. It 
 was an order from General Havelock at Cawnpore desiring 
 us to remain at Futteepore for the present. This was in- 
 deed a knock-me-down blow to all ranks, for we had pushed 
 forward with the utmost speed, working at times both 
 night and day in order to rejoin our regimental Head- 
 quarters with General Havelock's column, before he made 
 his final advance upon Lucknow to reheve that besieged 
 garrison. I was sorry for myself, but was grieved still 
 more for the men of my Company. I had held out to 
 
 269 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 them the hope of their being in time for that event if we 
 hurried our advance in all possible ways, and they had 
 nobly answered the call I made upon them. 
 
 We could have easily reached Cawnpore in a day, or a 
 day and a half at most, or could have overtaken our head- 
 quarters on the Oudh side of the Ganges before they had 
 reached the Alum Bagh had we been allowed to do so. 
 This order took aU the life and go out of mj^ Company 
 for some days. However, we set about making a strong 
 field-work at Futteepore as a " point d'appui " on our 
 line of communications. 
 
 When the revolt began, Mr. Tucker was the CivU Com- 
 missioner at that place. He was a gifted and polished 
 gentleman who thoroughly trusted the natives, and stoutly 
 refused to believe they would ever harm him. They knew 
 him well and had the greatest respect for him as one who 
 was sincerely devoted to their interest. Being a very 
 religious Christian, he had erected a large monolith upon 
 the Grand Trunk Road where it passed through Iris station, 
 on which the Lord's Prayer was engraved in three weU- 
 known native tongues and characters. When the news 
 of the mutiny at Cawnpore reached his station, all the other 
 Europeans retired to Allahabad, but he positively refused 
 to budge, believing that no native would molest him. 
 He was wrong in attributing to those for whom he had 
 long worked strenuously virtues they did not possess. 
 The mutineers attacked him in his house, to the flat top 
 of which he retreated and there sold his life, making iiis 
 cruel foes pay heavily for their treachery. The natives 
 of the place assured us that he had killed thirteen of his 
 murderers before he ceased to breathe. We were told to 
 coUect his remains and bury them. We found his skuU 
 
 270 
 
A MUTINEER HANGED 
 
 and collected such of his bones as we could find. We could 
 obtain no coffin, but nailed them up in a box we found 
 in his house, and buried them with all military honours. 
 I mention this as proving that the mutineers did not even 
 spare the white men who throughout their Indian careers 
 had been the most devoted friends to aU classes of the 
 native population. 
 
 Wliilst at Futteepore a trooper was tried and condemned 
 to be hanged. I forget his crime, but he belonged to the 
 2nd Cavalry, the regiment that had murdered the prisoners 
 and the women and children at Cawnpore. He was 
 to be hanged by my company, and I thought I might have 
 had some difficulty in finding a hangman. Only the 
 year before when a man was condemned to be hanged 
 for the murder of a comrade in a Crimean hospital, no man 
 could be found amongst the fighting ranks in the Army 
 who would act as executioner. Yet the reward offered 
 was £20, and an immediate return home with a free dis- 
 charge. How different, however, was their feeling when 
 it was a question of hanging a sepoy of the regiment that 
 had killed our women and children at Cawnpore ! When 
 I caUed my company to " attention," and asked if any man 
 would hang him for me, apparently every man wanted to be 
 the hangman ! This as an example of how fierce 
 our men had been made by that awful massacre. Had 
 the brutal Nana, and, if possible, his stiU more brutal 
 brother, BaUa Rao, spared the lives of their prisoners and 
 treated them well, in what a different tone would the 
 history of the Mutiny have been written. When two 
 years afterwards we chased a number of the red-coated 
 mutineers over the trans Raptee range of hills into Napaul, 
 one of our spies pointed out to me where BaUa Rao had, 
 
 271 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 he said, died whilst crying out in his delirium, " The white 
 men are coming, the white men are coming ! " 
 
 As soon as General Havelock crossed into Oudh, on his 
 march to relieve Lucknow, our three companies were 
 ordered from Futteepore to Cawnpore. We had no tents, 
 so upon reaching that city we were ordered to bivouac 
 round that never-to-be-forgotten little building where 
 so many of our countrywomen and their children were 
 treacherously massacred by order of the Nana Sahib and 
 his fiendish brother. The well, close to the house, into 
 which their bodies had been thrown, had not been yet filled 
 up, and the rooms of the house itself, besmeared with blood, 
 were still littered with portions of women's underclothing 
 and the shoes and socks and garments of little children. 
 I picked up more than one handful of female hair that had 
 evidently been torn from the heads of those helpless, half- 
 starved victims by the butchers of the city who had been 
 sent there expressly to murder them. A more sickening, 
 a more maddening sight no Englishman has ever looked 
 upon. Upon entering those blood-stained rooms, the heart 
 seemed to stop. The horror of the scene was appalling 
 and called up our worst angry passions. The coldest 
 blooded foreigner would have been deeply affected by it, 
 but it awoke in us, the countrymen of these helpless victims, 
 a fiendish craving for the blood of the cowardly murderers 
 who had ordered the massacre and of the brutes who had 
 perpetrated it. As for our men, revenge was in their eyes. 
 The indignity which had been put upon a proud people by 
 a race whom we regarded as inferior in every sense was 
 maddening. The idea that a native should have dared 
 to put his hands upon an Englishwoman was too much 
 for our insular pride. An all-absorbing craving for ruth- 
 
 272 
 
THE CAWNPORE HOUSE OF BLOOD 
 
 less vengeance, that most unchristian of passions, was deep 
 in all hearts. The walls had been scrawled over as if 
 every man in General Havelock's force who could write 
 had there recorded his vow to God that he would exact 
 punishment in full measure for this crime, which blood 
 alone could expiate. I read many of these scribbled invoca- 
 tions, and, though written in ungrammatical, badly spelt 
 English, their meaning was unmistakable. But no man, no 
 matter what his rank might be, left those precincts without 
 clenched teeth and a longing in his heart for vengeance. 
 
 It is easy now at this distance of time, and in our quiet 
 homes, to enlarge upon the " quality of mercy," and on 
 Christ's holy teaching : but had any English bishop visited 
 that scene of butchery when I saw it, I verily believe 
 that he would have buckled on a sword. The blood ip now 
 cool. The grave has closed upon the instigators and per- 
 petrators of that hellish crime, that awful tragedy, and 
 justice has been appeased. But it was not so in those 
 days : " Let me see Thy vengeance on them," was the cry 
 heard wherever the English tongue was then spoken. We 
 had stUl to reconquer India, and in doing so to deal with 
 those fiends who had shamefully iUtreated and naurdered 
 Englishwomen. As I look back to that time and think 
 of its events, I am lost in amazement, mingled with a sort 
 of national pride, at the smallness of the retribution we 
 exacted, and how truthfully we can assert that mercy 
 did season our justice. 
 
 VOL. I. 273 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 Cawnpore in 1857 — The Nana's Country Place — 
 
 Advance into Oudh — Besieged in the Alum 
 
 Bagh Palace 
 
 AT Cawnpore we found the headquarters of the ist 
 Battalion North Staffordshire Regiment, and the sick 
 and wounded left behind by General Havelock when he 
 had marched for Lucknow. The situation at Cawnpore 
 then was by no means re-assuring. The of&cer in command, 
 a brave old soldier who had served in the Peninsula under 
 the Duke of Wellington, was in no way equal to the position 
 his seniority as a colonel had conferred upon him. The 
 last news from Delhi was not very promising ; we knew that 
 Sir James Outram was closely invested in Lucknow ; the 
 Gwalior contingent threatened our communications with 
 Allahabad, and the Nana, with a considerable force of Foot 
 and some horsed guns, was reported to be in the neighbour- 
 hood of Bithoor, that ruffian's principal country place. 
 
 Our brave old commander in Cawnpore resolved to attack 
 this force at Bithoor. He may have been a good battalion 
 commander in his day, but surely neither the science nor 
 the art of war were amongst the subjects he was familiar 
 with. He had, however, the good fortune to be subse- 
 quently killed in action : lucky man ! 
 
 A small column was formed of all the available odds and 
 ends of troops then in Cawnpore, Major Barnston's three 
 companies of my battalion being amongst them. There 
 
 274 
 
Darbishire iSr Stenfbrd, Ltd. 
 
 The Oxford Geogf Institute. 
 
CAWNPORE IN 1857 
 
 was a field battery of Bengal Artillery, which we irreverently 
 spoke of as our " cow-guns," because they were drawn 
 by bullocks. They were cheap animals, and if killed in 
 action could always be eaten. This sort of battery was 
 then common in the Bengal Presidency. 
 
 We marched aU night along a good pukha road and 
 came into action early the following morning. Our detach- 
 ment of white soldiers, consisting of men of the old historic 
 Northumberland Fusiliers, under my most gallant Crimean 
 friend. Captain, now General Bigge, and of Major Barnston's 
 companies of the 90th Light Infantry, were kept too long 
 in column on the hard metalled road. The consequence 
 was, that the enemy's first round shot flew rattling through 
 our ranks, kUling and wounding some ten of our men. White 
 soldiers in India were then worth more than the Koh-i-noor 
 to us as an Empire, and this stupidly-caused loss annoyed 
 us much. We felt it aU the more because the usual length 
 of time it took our " cow-guns " to come into action was 
 upon this occasion prolonged from an amusing cause. We 
 had some cowardly half-caste police immediately in front 
 of the guns, who, upon the first round shot coming amongst 
 us, fell flat on their stomachs and refused to move. Some 
 rough usage from boots and sticks became necessary before 
 they could be induced to remove their vile bodies to allow 
 our guns to come into action. I must not omit an episode 
 that caused this little skirmish to be remembered by most 
 who took part in it. In an explosion at Cawnpore, some 
 days previously, an Irish soldier, Timothy O'Brian, of the 
 Northumberland FusHiers, had been severely hurt. When 
 he heard that his detachment was under orders to march 
 and attack the rebels, he crept from the hospital and secreted 
 himself in one of the dhoolies told off for the march. In 
 
 275 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 this manner he contrived to get to the front. When the 
 first shot was fired, he was seen staggering to his place in 
 his company, his legs still bound in bandages. When 
 asked, " What the devil he was doing there ? " his answer 
 was, " As long as Tim 0' Brian can put one leg before the 
 other his comrades shall never go into action without 
 him." 1 
 
 I need not describe what followed. The operation was 
 badly planned and still worse executed, as judged by the 
 bumptious wisdom of my brother officers and myself. 
 However, we drove the enemy back, and then bivouacked 
 for the night outside the Nana's palace. I kept up a 
 rattling good fire through the cold hours of the morning, 
 using the great mahogany legs of that villain's billiard 
 table as fuel. The following day we returned to Cawnpore. 
 This was my first little action during the Mutiny, and it 
 did not incline me to think highly of old Indian colonels 
 of British regiments. Most certainly none of us learnt 
 anything from it. 
 
 During the few days I passed at Cawnpore I made a 
 survey of the barracks and of aU the ground round them 
 where poor General Wheeler had constructed the entrench- 
 ments which his gallant party so stoutly defended. Whilst 
 so engaged, I was accosted by an officer who was one of the 
 only two or three survivors of that prolonged siege and of 
 the massacre which followed it. The description he gave 
 me of the dreadful days of suspense our feeble garrison 
 endured was intensely interesting.* I wrote much of it in 
 
 '■ This scene is well described by General Bigge in the Sf. George's 
 Gazette, the Reginaental Newspaper of " The Old and Bold." 
 
 ^ If any of my readers have not read " Cawnpore," by Sir George 
 Trevelyan, Bart., I recommend them strongly to send for it at once. 
 It is the most thrilling history I have ever read. 
 
 276 
 
NEWS FROM LUCKNOW 
 
 my diary at the time, but, as I shall mention later on, 
 when the Gwalior contingent attacked Cawnpore during 
 our subsequent absence at the relief of Lucknow, the enemy 
 were allowed — through some one's fault — to loot the 
 baggage that I and others left there when we crossed 
 into Oudh. My small contribution to this baggage was a 
 little box in which I had placed my diary. When subse- 
 quently Lord Clyde, returning from what was " the real 
 and effective relief of Lucknow," drove off the Gwalior 
 contingent from Cawnpore, and our cavalry got in amongst 
 them, a Cross of the Legion of Honour was found upon a 
 sepoy who was killed. This must, I think, have been the 
 vagabond who looted my medals, for I believe I was the 
 only one of those whose traps were stored there who owned 
 that decoration. I wish I had caught that sepoy! 
 
 We now heard of General Havelock's proceedings up to 
 the day he had left his bivouac at the Alum Bagh to fight 
 his way through Lucknow to " The Residency," in what I 
 may well call the centre of the city. By the route he took 
 it was a hazardous operation with his guns and other 
 impedimenta. But nothing could have stopped the men 
 who then entered that city with him and Sir James Outram. 
 
 The news we received told us of four brother officers 
 who had been killed near the Alum Bagh. One was Nichol 
 Grahame, the bravest of the brave, who, amongst the first 
 who entered the Great Redan on September 8, 1855, was, 
 I believe, the last British soldier to leave it. No more 
 daring man ever died for England.^ 
 
 ^ He was the uncle of that distinguished officer, Lieut.-General 
 Sir A. Hunter, K.C.B., now commanding the troops in Scotland. 
 When the surgeon in reply to a question from young Grahame told 
 him he must die, he lay back and said, " All right, I die like a soldier," 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 We were all impatience to get forward, and at last we 
 received the order to do so. On October 21, 1857, our 
 detachment of three companies, with some odds and ends 
 of other regiments, about 500 men and four field guns, under 
 the command of Major Bamston, crossed the Ganges by 
 the Bridge of Boats there, bound for the Alum Bagh, a 
 palace within a mile of Lucknow. We were all in the seventh 
 heaven of delight at the prospect of at last getting into 
 serious touch with the enemy. We were to take a convoy 
 of 500 carts of provisions to the Alum Bagh and then to 
 return to Cawnpore without delay. Hope told us we might 
 be fortunate enough to escape the latter part of our in- 
 structions, for our one all-absorbing desire was to get at 
 the enemy : we left the rest to the varying chances of war. 
 I had picked up a good Madras servant on my way to 
 Cawnpore, who was invaluable to me throughout the 
 following eighteen months' campaigning in Oudh. He was 
 as brave as any man in my company, and used to chaff 
 any soldier he saw " bobbing " at a shot that went un- 
 comfortably near. He had managed to find a coolie for me 
 in Cawnpore, and I had bought a horse, for which I was 
 fortunate enough to secure a syce — a native groom. The 
 coolie carried some cooking pots on his head, together with 
 a bundle consisting of my greatcoat, in which were rolled 
 up the dressing-gown rescued from our wreck, a few flannel 
 shirts, socks, pocket-handkerchiefs, and a spare pair of boots, 
 etc. Except what I carried on my person those were all the 
 worldly possessions with which I crossed into Oudh, where 
 I was destined to campaign for the next year and a half. 
 I carried a watch in my pocket and a telescope over my 
 shoulder, to which was fastened a small compass. I had 
 extremely little to lose, and my heart was as light as my 
 
 278 
 
ADVANCE INTO OUDH 
 
 kit. I had nearly a hundred good men behind me, whom 
 I trusted and who I beUeve trusted me. What more could 
 any young captain of four and twenty wish for ? 
 
 Our first two marches through Oudh were uneventful. 
 The country was flat Hke a billiard table, and quite park- 
 like in character. The road — very good and absolutely 
 straight — passed through some deserted villages, and fine 
 topes of mango and tamarind trees in its neighbourhood, 
 each with a masonry-enclosed well, added much to the 
 beauty of the surrounding landscape. Pious men who are 
 successful in business often plant these groves and dig the 
 attendant well for the benefit of travellers. They are 
 usually the votary offerings of some Mohammedan in 
 recognition of AUah having granted his prayer when he 
 was in mental or bodily trouble, or of a pious Hindoo 
 desirous of squaring matters in the spiritual world with 
 some particular deity in his curiously extensive and un- 
 clean mythology. 
 
 To the wearied wayfarer along a dusty white Indian 
 road during the heat of the day such resting places are 
 indeed most grateful. Many a time when I thought my 
 head would split from long exposure to the sun I have felt 
 truly thankful to the man who had blessed the traveller 
 with such a haven, where he not only found shelter from the 
 sun and a drink of cool pure water, but where he could have 
 a bucket of it poured over his burning head and the scorched 
 nape of his neck. Oh, what a detestable country India is 
 to campaign in during the hot weather ! 
 
 The Sye River is an insignificant stream where the high- 
 road to Lucknow crosses it at Bunnee bridge, some 
 twelve miles from the Alum Bagh Palace. We were assured 
 that the enemy intended to hold that position. It was my 
 
 279 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 company's turn to form the advanced guard that day, so 
 all ranks looked forward to at least a satisfactory skirmish 
 there. When I started before daybreak, a thick mist 
 prevented us from seeing more than a hundred yards in any 
 direction. Having reached the neighbourhood of the 
 bridge I halted my company, and, drawing my revolver, 
 went forward alone. I found the place deserted and the 
 brick bridge destroyed. 
 
 Our three companies of the goth Light Infantry took 
 up their position in a nice Mttle tope of mango trees beyond 
 the river, and the rest of the day was spent in getting our 
 convoy across the ford, which grew deeper the more it was 
 used. But we made light of work now, for was not Lucknow 
 close at hand ? 
 
 In the middle of the night I was awoke up by the cry of 
 " Stand to your arms." We were quickly in the ranks in 
 profound silence. But no enemy was to be seen or heard, 
 and the outlying pickets were quiet aU round us. No one 
 could say who had given the alarm. But going round my 
 company as it stood silently in its ranks, I sti;mbled over 
 a man on the ground. I shook him, but he was evidently 
 unconscious, and feeling his face over, I found he was bleed- 
 ing from a wound in the head. The matter was mysterious. 
 Questioning the men if they could explain it, his comrade 
 said that whilst asleep he was awoke up by finding a man 
 trying to strangle him. Only half awake, both assailed 
 and assailant struggled to their feet, when the latter, 
 clubbing his rifle, hit his supposed enemy over the head, 
 and knocked him down : he then cried out, " Stand to your 
 arms." The whole detachment had thus been disturbed 
 in their bivouac through the indigestion and consequent 
 dreams of this man, and I hope his broken head may have 
 
 280 
 
ADVANCE TO THE ALUM BAGH 
 
 cured him of a malady that had interfered seriously with the 
 repose of his comrades. 
 
 Daybreak next morning, October 24, 1857, ushered in 
 a fine Sunday, but it was to be no day of rest for any of us. 
 To my great delight, " I Company " was detailed to form 
 the rear guard, so we were bound to come in for any fighting 
 there should be. I was ordered to remain where we had 
 bivouacked until I had started every cart and camel on the 
 road towards the Alum Bagh Palace, where General Havelock 
 had left a garrison with all his sick, his elephants, and other 
 impedimenta. We felt tolerably certain that the enemy, 
 who had come out from Lucknow in some force to oppose 
 us, would do their utmost to capture our long straggling 
 convoy before we could get it into the Alum Bagh. Our 
 idiotic enemy ought to have tried that during each day's 
 march we made after leaving Cawnpore. Now, with a 
 place of safety so near ahead of us, their chances of success 
 were greatly lessened. 
 
 Oudh, between the Ganges and the Goomtee rivers, is a 
 a dead level plain, well cultivated and supplied with villages 
 and topes of mango and tamarind trees. The only made 
 — or, in the vernacular, the only pukha — road of any im- 
 portance was that between Cawnpore and Lucknow, on 
 which we were then advancing. After a long wait and much 
 bad language, I succeeded in getting my last gharry, or 
 native cart, under way. But our progress was extremely 
 slow, for those horrible creaking vehicles seemed to break 
 down purposely to annoy us. The infernal gharrywans, 
 or drivers, seemed to be quite indifferent, and to think it 
 was our business to mend their carts when they broke down. 
 I am afraid that the shoulders of many a gharrywan that 
 day became disagreeably acquainted with our walking 
 
 281 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 sticks, for at first they would make no attempt either to 
 mend their carts or to hurry forward. The enemy's cavalry 
 followed us and several times came so close that I had to 
 halt and treat them to a voUey or two, firing by sections, 
 so that they should never be' able to charge home without 
 a warm reception from at least half of my men. Some 
 field guns opened upon us more than once, but the " cow 
 battery " we had with us kept them fairly quiet, and its 
 shells must have cost them some loss. The enemy had no 
 shells, and when beyond the range of " canister " could 
 only annoy us with round shot, which practically did no 
 harm. I had no one but my own company near me for a 
 long time, but even my ninety or a hundred men were too 
 much for the cowardly rascals, of whom we killed many. 
 I knew that I had a first rate soldier in the officer command- 
 ing the column, Major Roger Barnston, and that if he thought 
 I was in any serious danger he would send me reinforcements. 
 Our detachment had a few men wounded ; Captain Guise 
 was one of them. He had already lost his right arm, but, 
 daring to a fault, he nevertheless would engage one of 
 the enemy in single combat with a right handed sword, in 
 which encounter he nearly lost his left hand also. 
 
 The name " Alum Bagh " means " the Garden of the 
 World," and had been given to a palace built by some royal 
 Begum beyond the southern suburbs of Lucknow. It was 
 a large three-storied and very substantially built square 
 brick building, with a tower at each corner, in which there 
 was a staircase. Round it was a large square garden, whose 
 sides were about four hundred yards each, the whole enclosed 
 by a thick wall some twelve or more feet in height. There 
 was a large two storied gateway opening out upon the road, 
 beyond which was a very pretty little mosque with minarets. 
 
 282 
 
BESIEGED IN THE ALUM BAGH PALACE 
 
 At each angle of the garden was a tower, round the outside 
 of which we had constructed a bastion with a feeble attempt 
 at an abattis beyond the ditch. General Havelock had 
 left all his tents and other impedimenta, including sixty-four 
 wounded and the same number of sick, together with some 
 twenty elephants, at this place, under a guard of 280 
 men. The officer in command was an old major of the 
 Gordon Highlanders, upon whom the responsibihty of his 
 position apparently weighed heavily. I know he was a 
 brave man at heart, but it struck us young captains that he 
 was much too cautious. A great sportsman and a remark- 
 able shot, though no tiger had any terror for him, responsi- 
 bility made him over anxious and decidedly querulous. 
 
 Our horses soon began to suffer from want of food, so 
 one day several of us went outside the gates some few 
 hundred yards to protect our grass cutters whilst they 
 scraped together a little herbage for our poor starving 
 animals. The enemy, seeing this, sent forward some skir- 
 mishers, and we had an exciting little interchange of rifle 
 buUets with them. I suppose we were getting the best of 
 it, for at last bang came a 32-pounder shot among us. This 
 attracted our old Commandant's attention, and, looking 
 out from the top of the palace, he espied us, the delinquents 
 who had thus brought down a fire upon the post in his 
 charge. He was furious, sent for our commanding officer. 
 Major Barnston, and ordered him to go out and place us all 
 in arrest, my old and valued friend, Captain Bigge, of the 
 Northumberland Fusiliers, being one of the number. We 
 returned to our tents wrathful at this old gentleman's 
 " unheard-of presumption," as we deemed his action to be 
 in the matter. That night, or the next morning, Barnston 
 went to him to ask upon what charge we were to be tried, 
 
 283 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 as the officers of our regiment were not accustomed to be 
 placed under arrest. The old gentleman fumed, and at 
 last ordered us to be released with a wigging. This conduct 
 on his part did not tend to harmony in the garrison, for 
 after all, if any real or serious danger presented itself, it 
 would mainly be upon us young gentlemen lately from the 
 Crimea he would have to depend. Very improperly we all 
 thenceforth disliked him and thought little of him as a 
 soldier. 
 
 Our life when shut up with him in the Alum Bagh was 
 extremely monotonous. From a battery at the " YeUow 
 House," about 1,500 yards off, and situated near the 
 suburbs of the city, we were daily saluted by some 32- 
 pounder shot thrown in amongst our tents. Sometimes 
 they struck the palace itself, and occasionally a horse or a 
 gun-bullock was killed, but it is astonishing how little 
 damage any such ill-directed and random fire ever does. 
 It would have been very easy any morning at daybreak to 
 take this battery which thus constantly annoyed us and 
 occasionally caused us loss. But our old Highland Com- 
 mandant would not sanction any such enterprise. His 
 garrison was smaU, his sick and wounded in hospital were 
 numerous, and he over-estimated the dangers of his position ; 
 at least we young soldiers thought so. He was urged by 
 my commanding officer. Major Bamston — who understood 
 war thoroughly — to let us take this battery at early dawn 
 and spike its guns. We were then well into the cold weather, 
 and just before daybreak at that season the sepoy is at his 
 worst. Almost paralysed with cold, he is nearly torpid 
 and good for very little. All ranks in those three companies 
 of my regiment were young, and, as they had but lately 
 served in the batteries before Sebastopol, they thought 
 
 284 
 
BESIEGED IN THE ALUM BAGH PALACE 
 
 little either of the feeble fire from this battery or of the 
 sepoys who worked it. If permitted to attack it they 
 would have made short work of both the battery and its 
 garrison. But the commandant had been in India almost 
 aU his service ; he had seen next to nothing of war, and 
 knew little of its ways ; besides, the sun had apparently 
 taken all " the go " out of him. He would not hazard the 
 risk of failure, so we had to sulk and quietly submit to the 
 insolence of these rebels, who must have thought us a poor 
 lot in consequence. Perhaps I am prejudiced even still 
 against this old major and do his memory injustice. But 
 I write what all of us young captains and subalterns thought 
 at the time. The fact that we had served in the Crimea 
 had doubtless made us bumptious, but we were all bored 
 at being thus cooped up in a way which the circumstances 
 of the moment — as far as we understood them — did not 
 warrant. I think this inflated notion of our superiority 
 over those who had not had the advantage of serving 
 against the Russians was a notable feeling with us generally 
 throughout the Mutiny, and caused many of us to over- 
 estimate our importance and to undervalue our Indianized 
 comrades. 
 
 We had very little to interest us, or even to occupy our 
 minds, whilst we were besieged in the Alum Bagh. There 
 were no books to while away the tedious, oh ! the very long 
 hours of our imprisonment. We daily mounted the roof of 
 the Palace to gaze round through our telescopes and examine 
 the enemy's position between us and the city. But our eyes 
 were stiU more longingly bent in the Cawnpore direction. 
 " Sister Anne, Sister Anne, do you see any one coming ?" 
 was the common question we asked our friends who pos- 
 sessed the best binoculars. When the enemy treated us to 
 
 285 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 i few round shot, they gave us unwittingly something 
 interesting, often amusing, to talk about. But we were a 
 dull lot. I have often thought since of what a boon to our 
 garrison in every way a Baden-Powell would have been ! 
 Under his auspices we should have had theatricals, and if 
 our united store of books could not have supplied us with a 
 play, why, he would have written one for us and taken 
 himself the leading part in it, either as an old man or as a 
 beautiful young girl. It is men of his bright imagination, 
 resources and diversified talents, a first-rate soldier whom 
 all ranks feel to-be a real comrade, who springs to the front 
 during a siege, or when any body of men are in difficulties. 
 In all trying positions such a man is indeed worth much. 
 
 Not far from my tent were drawn up in a long row the 
 elephants General Havelock had left behind him when he 
 started thence in the hope of being able to bring back with 
 him the women and children besieged in the Lucknow 
 Residency. These poor animals grew thinner every day. 
 They were on a short allowance of flour, and but very little 
 green food ever came in their way. Their backbones became 
 more prominent as weeks flew by, and at last their bodies 
 assumed very much the shape of an upturned deep-keeled 
 sailing boat in a somewhat dilapidated condition. All of 
 us who were fond of animals felt much for these patient and 
 invaluable slaves. I watched them many an hour, and their 
 intelligent ways and habits interested me greatly. By day 
 their bodies are never entirely at rest. Although their skin 
 is very thick the smallest fly irritates it, and consequently 
 their huge broad ears never cease to flap nor their tails to 
 swing to keep these torments from them. To still further 
 protect them their trunks are employed in taking up pints 
 of dust which they blow over their much wrinkled skins, 
 
 286 
 
MR. KAVANAGH AND THE KOSSIDS 
 
 whose very thickness makes the Unes formed by these 
 wrinkles soft and a prey to every species of fly. Indeed, 
 these lines on their skin form a pattern that always 
 reminded me of the marks on old crackled china. 
 
 Kossids, that is native messengers carrying news, usually 
 written in Greek characters on small slips of thin paper 
 tightly roUed in a quill, were occasionally able to get through 
 the enemy's lines. But the risk was great, and more than 
 most natives were ready to incur. Outram was very anxious 
 to afford the Commander-in-Chief the benefit of his local 
 knowledge in preparing his schemes for the rehef of Luck- 
 now. But it was impossible to send a document describing 
 any such plan by a kossid. This coming to the knowledge 
 of Mr. Kavanagh, a European clerk in one of our public 
 offices in Lucknow, he at once proposed to try and reach 
 our camp disguised as a native. From long residence in 
 the country he spoke Hindostanee extremely well, and, it 
 might be said, like a native. He asked to be allowed to 
 take with him a trustworthy native — in fact an experi- 
 enced kossid — whom he knew well and upon whose coolness 
 and discretion he could rely. This native would do most 
 of the talking that might be necessary. Mr. Kavanagh's 
 offer was gladly accepted, and to him Sir James Outram 
 described the plan he considered best for Sir Colin Campbell 
 to follow in his intended advance upon the Lucknow Resi- 
 dency. Mr. Kavanagh knew the city and its vicinity 
 thoroughly. He would be able to afford Sir Colin a vast 
 amount of topographical information that was likely to be 
 of inestimable value to him and to the relieving army. 
 
 Mr. Kavanagh and his native companion crossed the 
 Goomtee River during the night of November 9, 1857, 
 without much apparent difficulty, and, thanks chiefly to 
 
 287 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 the coolness and quick address of his companion and guide, 
 he reached Sir CoHn Campbell's camp the next morning. 
 For this splendid and daring service the Queen awarded 
 him the Victoria Cross, and no man ever deserved it 
 more. The daring native was also liberally rewarded. 
 As I shall mention further on, I made Mr. Kavanagh's 
 acquaintance when my company and I were in rather a 
 " tight place " during our endeavour to join hands with 
 the Lucknow besieged garrison. 
 
 2S8 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 Sir Colin Campbell's Relief of Lucknow 
 
 WHEN it became generally known that the Bengal 
 native army had mutinied, the eyes of all men, 
 British and native, were turned to Delhi. Men asked one 
 another, " What would the native Royal Family do ? " It 
 had never been forgotten by the people that the man to whom 
 we accorded the empty title of king was the legal representa- 
 tive of the old Mohammedan conquerors and rulers of India 
 whom we had dispossessed. The hostile feeling of these 
 Princes towards us was proverbial, but the Indian world knew 
 there was not a really able man amongst them. When all 
 the English officials and other Europeans in Delhi fled for 
 their lives, its royal palace at once became the headquarters 
 of this formidable rebellion. We had long permitted this 
 Moslem royal family to reside there surrounded with every 
 luxury, but we had never allowed any of its members the 
 smallest share in the government of the country. The 
 native princes, thus bereft of aU power, were naturally dis- 
 contented with their lot, and when the Mutiny broke out it 
 was equally natural they should side with the sepoys who 
 were prepared to recognize the Great Mogul as their lawful 
 sovereign. It may be assumed, I think, that these princes 
 were fuUy aware from the first of the formidable and secret 
 combination against us. All available British troops were 
 at once collected in hot haste from north, south, east and 
 VOL. I. 289 u 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 west to besiege Delhi, and upon the result depended for a 
 long time the question as to whether we should be able to 
 hold our own beyond the space enclosed within the 
 old Mahratta Ditch at Calcutta pending the arrival of 
 reinforcements from home. 
 
 This Siege of Delhi was the most memorable event in the 
 history of the great Mutiny, and never did the pluck and 
 endurance of the British and of our Punjaub soldiers of all 
 ranks, from the general to the private, shine forth more 
 brilliantly. How I wished at the time to be there. Its 
 assault and capture marked the turning point in the Mutiny, 
 and we aU breathed more freely when it fell. It was a 
 splendid military achievement, and our subsequent pro- 
 ceedings in Oudh and elsewhere, though most creditable 
 to aU concerned, were not in importance to be compared to 
 it. When I subsequently learned the details of its events 
 from Sir Grant Hope and his aide-de-camp, Augustus Anson, 
 I realized how much I had missed. The story of that siege 
 and of the operations in its neighbourhood told to me by 
 them sounded to my ears hke an epic. It is not to be 
 surpassed either in the mighty consequences that hung 
 upon its issue, in the brilliancy of its daily incidents, nor in 
 examples of heroic daring on the part of the besiegers, by 
 any siege I know of in ancient or modern history. 
 
 When the news of its fall first reached us in Oudh we 
 felt that the backbone of the Mutiny had been broken. 
 The eyes of all Hindostan had from the first been turned 
 towards Delhi, and upon the line that would be taken by 
 its Princes, They certainly threw their lot in with our 
 mutinous sepoys, and they were now in our hands as pri- 
 soners. Delhi retaken became once more an appanage of 
 our Indian Empire. 
 
 290 
 
THE RELIEFS AND SIEGES OF LUCKNOW 
 
 The news received went on to say that most of our Delhi 
 army were already on the march southwards to help us, 
 and were expected to cross atXawnpore into Oudh about 
 the aSth instant (October). Sir Colin Campbell was to 
 come with it, and upon his arrival at the Alum Bagh would 
 take forward our three company detachment with him. 
 
 As some misapprehension has arisen from the manner 
 in which the expressions, " The Siege of Lucknow " and 
 " The Relief of Lucknow," are often used, I will here make 
 a few remarks upon the subject that may be of use to my 
 reader. 
 
 It is not generally remembered that we had two " sieges " 
 and two so-called " reliefs " of that place about the end of 
 1857 and the beginning of 1858. In the first siege, the 
 garrison consisted of a mere handful of British soldiers. 
 They occupied the unfortified Residencyj which was crowded 
 with English women and children who had taken refuge 
 there from many parts of Oudh. The besiegers were a vast 
 horde of mutineers and of armed men from the city and 
 neighbouring districts. That truly great man, General Sir 
 Henry Lawrence, who was " Chief Commissioner " to the 
 Court of Oudh, assumed military command of the place as 
 soon as it was hemmed in by the enemy. But within a few 
 days of its being invested he was most unfortunately killed 
 in his room overlooking the Goomtee River by a shell from 
 the enemy. The command of the garrison then devolved 
 upon Colonel Inglis, 32nd Regiment, who, though by no 
 means an able man in any respect, possessed the pluck and 
 decision to abide by Sir Henry Lawrence's injunction to 
 hold out as long as possible, and never to make any terms 
 with the treacherous enemy around him. 
 
 General Sir James Outram, having been appointed Chief 
 
 291 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 Commissioner of Oudh, vice General Sir Henry Lawrence, 
 reached Cawnpore September i6, 1857. There he found 
 General Havelock with the gallant troops that General 
 had so often led to victory. As a general officer, Outram 
 was Havelock's senior in rank, and according to Army 
 regulations the military command devolved upon the 
 senior. But, with his habitual chivalry in aU matters, 
 great and small, and a magnanimity all his own, he waived 
 his military right in General Havelock's favour. How very 
 very few would have acted thus ! His divisional order of 
 September 16, 1857, spoke the man. In it he said he felt 
 it was due to General Havelock and to the noble exertions 
 he had made to relieve Lucknow, " that to him should 
 accrue the honour of the achievement," that " in gratitude 
 for, and in admiration of, the brilliant deeds in arms achieved 
 by General Havelock and his gallant troops, he wUl cheerfully 
 waive his rank on the occasion, and will accompany the 
 force to Lucknow in his civil capacity as Chief Commissioner 
 of Oudh, tendering his military services to General Have- 
 lock as a volunteer. On the rehef of Lucknow, the Major- 
 General wiU resume his position at the head of the forces." 
 This noble unselfishness ratified the title unofficially, but 
 unanimously, accorded to him, of " Bayard of India." 
 
 The small garrison under Colonel Inglis was sorely pressed 
 and in great straits when Havelock forced his way into the 
 besieged Residency. This operation, which was effected 
 after much hard fighting and considerable loss in killed and 
 wounded, constituted the first " Relief of Lucknow." 
 But in reality this so-called " relief " was little more than a 
 succour thrown into that besieged place. 
 
 Upon reaching the Lucknow Residency, Outram found his 
 force was much too small to warrant him in any attempt 
 
 292 
 
HAVELOCK'S RELIEF OF LUCKNOW 
 
 to carry off the large number of women, children, and 
 wounded men of the garrison, and his own wounded also. 
 He had therefore to content himself with awaiting the 
 arrival of an army strong enough to do so, though his pre- 
 sence and the troops he brought with him saved the old 
 garrison and had given new life and vigour to every white 
 person in the place. 
 
 The space covered by the Residency was much too small 
 for the now augmented garrison, so he at once extended it 
 considerably, taking in the buildings and palaces known 
 as the Taree Khotee, the Pureed Buksh, and the Chattah 
 Munzn, all situated on the river Goomtee, below the 
 Residency. 
 
 As described in the next chapter, Lucknow was eventually 
 relieved by Sir Colin Campbell in November, 1857, an 
 operation that is commonly referred to as the " Second 
 and final Relief of Lucknow." Having carried off the 
 garrison, with its women, children, sick and wounded, and 
 leaving a division under Sir James Outram outside and to 
 the south of the city, near the Alum Bagh, Sir Colin Camp- 
 bell hurried back with all speed to save Cawnpore, then 
 hardly pressed by a very large hostile force and unskilfully 
 defended by its small British garrison. 
 
 When, therefore, the " second and final relief " of Lucknow 
 was effected by Sir Colin Campbell, he found the garrison 
 was under the command of Outram, not of Havelock. The 
 latter was disliked by our men, whilst Outram was their 
 hero. Havelock was one of the Covenanter School, a hard 
 man, as hard upon himself as he was upon others. In the 
 days when Christ's followers had to struggle for existence 
 with the pagan rulers they worked amongst, Havelock would 
 have willingly died a martyr's death in his Master's cause. 
 
 293 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 He was not of the nineteenth century ; his noble spirit 
 belonged to the age when men died gladly for the faith 
 they believed in. But, judging him as a leader of soldiers 
 and from a soldier's point of view, he was, according to my 
 estimate of the two men, Outram's inferior, except from a 
 purely religious aspect. 
 
 The second siege of Lucknow was that carried out by Sir 
 Colin Campbell in March, 1858. In it, as well as in his 
 relief of that garrison, I took an active but a humble part 
 as captain commanding my company in the 90th Light 
 Infantry. I shall now endeavour to tell my reader what I 
 saw and was cognizant of upon those two occasions. 
 
 I do not know of any instance in military history where 
 a general was called upon to face a more difficult, a more 
 dangerous problem than that which Sir Colin Campbell 
 had before him in the relief of Lucknow's beleaguered 
 garrison. The population of Lucknow was estimated to be 
 250,000, to which must be added a crowd of mutineers 
 from the Bengal army, which had largely consisted of Oudh 
 men. His task was rendered all the more critical and 
 delicate by the number of women and children who had to 
 be brought away from the heart of a closely invested city. 
 The soldiers of all ranks whom he had available for this 
 attempt did not exceed 4,500, whilst the enemy in and 
 around Lucknow must certainly have been twelve times 
 as numerous. 
 
 The nearest British garrison was at Cawnpore, fifty- 
 three miles away, and for the defence of that unfortified 
 city, only 1,000 bayonets could be spared, half of whom 
 were sepoys of no great fighting value. The Gwalior con- 
 tingent was known to be already on the march to attack 
 it, and although reinforcements from England were almost 
 
 294 
 
SIR C. CAMPBELL'S RELIEF OF LUCKNOW 
 
 daily being dribbled into it, the place could not resist any 
 prolonged and serious attack. 
 
 According to my views, the plan adopted by General 
 Havelock for the relief of the Lucknow garrison had been 
 faulty, but the plucky pertinacity with which that veteran 
 — enfeebled by age, illness, and a very long service in India 
 — fought his way through the streets of Lucknow into the 
 Residency, appealed to all classes of the English people. 
 John Bull never fails to admire chivalrous daring, and is 
 proud of the general who persists in heroic efforts to succour 
 threatened comrades, and who succeeds in doing so. 
 
 Sir Colin Campbell was not a man, however, to repeat 
 the blunder made by General Havelock, whose force had 
 suffered heavily from being taken through some of the 
 narrow streets of the city. He had the advantage also of 
 Sir James Outram's opinion — based upon fuU local know- 
 ledge — as to the route by which the Residency could 
 be most easily reached with the smallest loss, and he 
 entirely agreed with that general's views. The plan of the 
 city, brought through the enemy's lines by the plucky Mr, 
 Kavanagh, on which Outram had marked the route he 
 advised Sir Colin to take, was of great value to him. That 
 line he meant to follow, and practically it would enable 
 him to reach the neighbourhood of the Sekunder Bagh 
 without encountering any seriously fortified position held 
 by the enemy. 
 
 On November 4 clouds of dust along the Cawnpore road 
 told us in the Alum Bagh that troops were approaching, 
 and an advanced party of cavalry was soon at our gate. 
 It was not, however, Sir Colin's main army. It was merely 
 the advanced guard of the cavalry division under Brigadier- 
 General Little, who had come on ahead from Sir Hope 
 
 295 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 Grant's camp at Buntera, about six miles distant, to obtain 
 and take back for the Commander-in-Chief the plan of Luck- 
 now that Sir James Outram had sent to the Alum Bagh. 
 We were given to understand at the time that Major 
 Mclntyre refused to give up Sir James Outram's despatch, 
 saying that his orders were to deliver it himself to Sir 
 Cohn and to no one else. The cavalry column had accord- 
 ingly its march to no purpose. I believe this was the 
 case, for when Sir Cohn subsequently reached the Alum 
 Bagh, I was on the roof of the palace and witnessed the 
 meeting between him and Major Mclntyre. I was near 
 enough to see Sir Colin dance a sort of war dance round the 
 unfortunate major, often shaking his fist at him in dire 
 anger as he did so, whilst the delinquent stood with hands 
 behind him, and with his eyes on the ground like a naughty 
 schoolboy. Although the punishment of one who had so 
 inconsiderately hurt my amour propre in needlessly putting 
 me under arrest ought to have rejoiced my heart, I 
 sincerely felt for the gallant old officer whom a misconception 
 of duty led to adopt so unusual a course. 
 
 Brigadier-General Little and his cavalry were accordingly 
 soon on their way back to Buntera, which Sir Colin 
 reached some days afterwards. The relieving army, with 
 Sir Cohn at its head, reached our camp in the Alum Bagh 
 November 12. 
 
 Early in the forenoon of November 14, 1857, the three 
 companies of the 90th Light Infantry, of which I com- 
 manded one, moved from the Alum Bagh, and joined the 
 Brigade of that distinguished leader, Colonel Adrian Hope. 
 It consisted of the ist Battahon Shropshire Light Infantry, 
 the 2nd Battalion Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders, 
 and the scratch battalion under Major Bamston, made up 
 
 296 
 
SIR COLIN REACHES THE ALUM BAGH 
 
 by the addition to our three companies of some companies 
 of the 84th Regiment and of the Madras FusiUers to a total 
 of about 600 bayonets. We had no tents, and a bivouac 
 towards the middle of November in Oudh, where wood for 
 great fires is difficult to obtain, is not the way in which 
 " Micky Free " would have selected to pass a night. 
 
 Sir Colin's relieving army consisted of about 700 sabres, 
 3,800 bayonets, and some 24 guns, of which a few were 
 heavy pieces. Having deposited his camp equipment and 
 all umiecessary impedimenta within the Alum Bagh en- 
 closure, he started November 14, 1857, on his difficult and 
 most important mission. We had with us fourteen days', 
 provisions for ourselves and for all those whom we hoped to 
 relieve in Lucknow. Instead of pushing straight forwards 
 by the road General Havelock had injudiciously followed 
 as far as the Char-Bagh bridge, we moved off at once to our 
 right, and entirely clear of the city, passing by the old 
 ruined fort of Jellahabad, and keeping well in the open, 
 where we should always have the advantage of the enemy. 
 We circled, as it were, round the southern and eastern 
 outskirts of Lucknow at a distance of about a mUe and a half 
 from the then unfordable canal which there formed the city 
 boundary, until we struck the river Goomtee as it flows 
 below the high ground upon which stands, in imposing 
 grandeur, the palace known as the Dil Khoosha — in English, 
 " The Heart's Delight." It is about three and a half miles 
 south-east of the Residency, and was the shooting residence 
 of the Kings of Oudh. A high wall of sun-dried brick 
 surrounded it, through which openings were easily made. 
 As we entered it, several small deer of various sorts ran about, 
 terrified at this unusual invasion ; most of them were in the 
 soldiers' camp kettles that evening. We were thrown forward 
 
 297 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 into a line of sldrmishers, and as we advanced an elephant 
 came charging backwards through my company with the 
 lower half of his trunk hanging by a strip of skin to the 
 other half above it. This had been done by a roimd shot, 
 and the poor beast was trumpeting loudly from pain as 
 he passed me. I knew the elephant well for a couple of 
 years afterwards j it got on satisfactorily, its mahout 
 feeding it by hand, and taking it daily into deep water 
 to drink. 
 
 Below us, and about three-quarters of a mile north of 
 the Dil Khoosha, stood a very large, ugly, and un-Indian 
 looking edifice known as the Martiniere College, between 
 which and the city were fine mango gardens. From both it 
 and the Dil Khoosha the enemy retired upon our approach, 
 treating us to a few round shot as they did so. Having 
 reached this college, we turned sharp to the left — in a north- 
 westerly direction — along the road that led from it straight 
 into the city, and took up a position in a fine garden of 
 trees covered by Haidar's Canal, which there forming the 
 south-eastern boimdary of the city, empties itself about a mile 
 lower down its course into the Goomtee River. Our long 
 straggling column of commissariat animals was so far be- 
 hind that Sir Cohn determined to push on no further that 
 day. Fires were soon lit, and the smell of cooking had 
 begun to gladden the noses of our hungry men when the 
 enemy showed signs of attacking. They opened upon us 
 with some guns, and phed us with musketry pretty freely. 
 We fell in and advanced towards Banks' House, which 
 stood as a prominent feature beyond the canal just referred 
 to. Captain Peel's guns had come into action within a few 
 hundred yards of it, and as we came up and were about to 
 pass to the front through them, he held up his hand and 
 
 298 
 
THE ENEMY'S BRASS SHELLS 
 
 said, with the cool affability which always distinguished 
 him, " One more broadside, if you please, gentlemen." 
 The expression smelt of the sea, and amused us much. 
 What a splendid fellow he was ! We halted, he poured in 
 his " broadside," and we then doubled down to the canal, 
 but found it unfordable. However, the enemy showed no 
 more signs of annoying us, and my company having been 
 left there on picket and as a protection for Peel's guns, the 
 rest of Bamston's scratch battalion retired to their bivouac 
 in the Martiniere grounds. The enemy threw several small 
 shells amongst us during the evening from a mortar near 
 the canal bank. I don't think any of them burst, or if 
 they did, we at any rate received no injury from them. I 
 only refer to them because upon no other occasion had I 
 ever seen brass sheUs made use of. They had evidently 
 been recently cast in the Lucknow bazaars. The night 
 was cold, dark, and very still, so that as I went round my 
 sentries along the canal I could plainly hear the enemy 
 talking on the opposite bank. We remained on picket in 
 a hoUow out of sight all the next day, November 15. The 
 enemy fired heavily upon any one who showed himself, but 
 I don't think they harmed a man of my company. The 
 sun was very hot all through that day, and we felt it much, 
 having neither tree nor wall to shelter us. We were glad 
 to be relieved that evening, as we had been up and about 
 all the previous night. We aU slept soundly, though our 
 bivouac was cold ; I know I did. 
 
 Next day, November 16, we did not move off until nearly 
 noon. Sir Colin Campbell had paid us a visit some time 
 before, and telling Major Barnston that he wished to see 
 the officers of his " scratch battalion," he made us a little 
 address. He impressed upon us the necessity of using the 
 
 299 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 bayonet as much as possible when we got into the city, 
 and not halting to fire when we could avoid doing so. 
 
 Upon " falling in " we moved to our right, my company 
 leading. Passing round a native village, and then turning 
 towards the city, we marched between the village and the 
 Goomtee River to the canal, upon the bank of which we 
 had been on picket about a mile higher up the previous 
 night. We crossed this canal close to where it joined the 
 Goomtee and below where the enemy had dammed it, and 
 so got over it with dry feet. Cutting off a wide bend of the 
 river, we made for the northern end of a village — about a 
 mile from where we had crossed the canal — which I after- 
 wards knew as Sultangunj, into the long and narrow main 
 street of which we turned in a southerly direction. It was 
 deserted, and for some time we were unopposed. I think 
 we had two or three men of what was then the best of 
 cavalry regiments — the gth Lancers — in front of us. 
 Behind them came my company, and then some twent)' or 
 thirty more of that regiment. A couple of i8-pounders were 
 not far off, for Sir Colin was evidently aware that the enemy 
 strongly held the Sekunder Bagh (the garden of Alexander 
 the Great) and the Shah Nujif mosque beyond it, and that 
 heavy guns would be required to breach the thick, twenty- 
 feet high brick walls surrounding both those places. The 
 Sekunder Bagh was a garden about a hundred yards square, 
 with a substantial turret at each angle and a high two or 
 three storied gateway in the middle of its southern face. 
 
 Behind the guns came either the remainder of Barnston's 
 battalion or the 93rd Highlanders ; both were close together. 
 In passing through the deserted village, which the enemy 
 made no attempt to defend, we suffered nothing for some 
 time, though a continued flight of bullets was passing over 
 
 300 
 
MY PLUCKY COLOUR-SERGEANT 
 
 us. My Madras servant kept close behind me. He was a 
 very plucky fellow, much given to looting and quite 
 indifferent to danger. His brother was a native officer 
 in a Madras Sepoy Regiment. All along the village 
 street, at every short check, and there were many of 
 them, he kicked in the door of the house nearest to him, 
 and I believe collected (!) a good amount of rupees, for he 
 knew where to look for them in the roofs and floors. At 
 last I saw the few lancers who were in front of me huddling 
 close together in a corner of the street. The fire was be- 
 coming too hot for mounted men ; indeed, I thought at the 
 time it was unwise to have placed them in so false a position. 
 We now pushed forward beyond them, and had to cross a 
 tolerably wide street running at right angles to the line of 
 our advance. Down it the enemy poured a heavy mus- 
 ketry fire. I called out to my men to run across it, 
 and did so myself, with a splendid young sergeant close 
 behind. He is now Major Newland, on the retired list. 
 No pluckier man ever followed his officer, and no man ever 
 deserved his promotion better. 
 
 The colour-sergeant of my company was a fine-looking 
 feUow, but destitute of aU nerve or pluck. I never could 
 find him when the bullets were in full chorus, so I displaced 
 him immediately after we had relieved Lucknow. Of 
 course, he had come to us " from another regiment " : 
 that is a true article of regimental belief in all corps as 
 regards objectionable officers or useless sergeants or privates. 
 
 As I ran over this open street where it joined that 
 we were advancing along, I went as fast as I could, with 
 Sergeant Newland close behind me. I turned to see how 
 my men were coming on when I reached the far side, 
 and found Sergeant Newland with his hand on his mouth, 
 
 301 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 from which he was bleeding freely. When he removed 
 his hand, I saw that a bullet had cut away and mangled 
 his upper lip horribly. Of course he was thus lost to 
 me for the rest of the operations, and a great loss he was. 
 Where the village ends, the road ran into a sort of deep 
 cutting in which one was well sheltered ; but the highly 
 walled-in Sekunder Bagh was on our right, and from it a 
 heavy fire was poured upon any one who showed over the 
 sloping side of the road. In a short time way was made 
 along the road behind us for a heavy gun. When it reached 
 me, the question was how to get it out of this deep, hollow 
 road to the level of the ground on which stood the walls of 
 the Sekunder Bagh. It could only be done by hand, so we 
 all buckled to, and with hand ropes, and by dint of spoking 
 at the wheels, we at last got it where it came into action. 
 But it cost us much in men's lives to do so. The enemy's 
 bullets peppered us sorely, and seemed to hammer the iron 
 tyre of the wheel I was working at. It is astonishing how 
 any one lived through the heavy fire poured in upon us at 
 such very close range during this trying operation. How- 
 ever, my men lying down along the bank with their heads 
 only exposed when they had loaded and were ready to fire, 
 did much to keep down the enemy's fire, for I don't think 
 we were over eighty yards from the corner tower of the place 
 when we hauled the gun into action. The gun opened fire at 
 once, sending great clouds of dust into the air when at each 
 round its heavy shot struck the wall. Close behind me were 
 the 93rd Highlanders, and as soon as the gun had made a suffi- 
 ciently big hole in the wall, they went gallantly for it, whilst 
 Wylde, with his magnificent regiment of Sikhs, went for the 
 only gateway into the place and quickly burst it open. 
 There was a very narrow staircase on eaeh side of the 
 
 302 
 
BLOUNT'S TROOP OF HORSE ARTILLERY 
 
 arched gateway leading to an upper story, well packed with 
 the enemy. Without a moment's hesitation the Sikhs 
 mounted these winding corkscrew-like stairs, and in a few 
 minutes were amidst the enemy, cutting them up with their 
 tulwars and hurling others out of the open windows. Few 
 British soldiers would have done this, and yet their loss 
 was small. They knew their enemy's habits and mode of 
 thought better than we did. However, no matter what 
 they knew, it was a splendid illustration of the pluck and 
 daring of the Punjaub soldiers. Major Wylde, certainly 
 one of the bravest of men, was himself either killed or badly 
 wounded in this affair. 
 
 Blount's troop of Bengal Horse Artillery now came up 
 the lane of the village by which we had marched, and 
 having struggled up its steep bank to the level of the ground 
 surrounding the Sekunder Bagh, it galloped past that 
 building, unhmbered, and came into action against the 
 Shah Najif. I never saw anything prettier or more gal- 
 lantly done in action. 
 
 As we looked from the Sekunder Bagh towards the Resi- 
 dency, this Shah Najif mosque, with its massive white 
 dome, was to our right front, and not more than about six or 
 seven hundred yards from us, whilst immediately in our 
 front were the ruins of some mud-built sepoy lines. Our 
 brigadier, Adrian Hope, now told me to advance my com- 
 many at the double and occupy these ruined huts, as the 
 enemy's skirmishers had already begun to annoy the men 
 of Blormt's battery from them. At that time my men 
 were lying along the main road that led from the Sekunder 
 Bagh to the barracks, and were thus covering the left of 
 Blount's battery, then engaged with the sepoys in front. 
 I did as I was told, and we advanced at a quick pace — 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 much faster than our regulation double. I was glad when 
 doing so to hold on by Adrian Hope's stirrup leather, as he 
 trotted forward. A gallant, daring soul and a most rising 
 soldier, he was kOled soon afterwards in trying to accom- 
 plish what was impossible, but what the arrogant presump- 
 tion of an ignorant, over-bearing superior — styled a general 
 — had ordered him to undertake. I soon had my men under 
 cover amidst the walls and ruins of the old native Hnes. 
 But I found that I required cover from the rear quite as 
 much as from the front, as a large proportion of Blount's 
 shells, fired from our right rear, burst at the muzzle through 
 the badness of their fuses,^ and sent their splinters and their 
 bullets amongst us. Alas, I then lost a great friend. Major 
 Bamston, from this cause. He was one of the very best 
 soldiers I ever knew in the Army. 
 
 Sir Colin Campbell had ordered him to take his scratch 
 battalion forward — minus my company sent on another 
 mission, as I have just described — and strive to get into the 
 Shah Najif mosque, which I have already said stood on the 
 right of the road into the city. His orders were, " If you 
 cannot force your way in, get your men under cover near 
 it, and come back and tell me what you have done and 
 seen." 
 
 He did as he was ordered, but every available point of 
 ingress that he could get at was built up. He tried in vain 
 to force an entrance, but could not do so. Having therefore 
 placed his men in the best shelter he could find, he galloped 
 back and told Sir Colin what he had done. Sir Colin said, 
 " Very well, keep your men there for the present and I will 
 reinforce you." Bamston turned his horse and started to 
 
 1 Fuse composition deteriorates quickly in India, or at least it 
 did so at the time to which I refer. 
 
 304 
 
MAJOR BARNSTON MORTALLY WOUNDED 
 
 gallop back to his men,when another of those thrice accursed 
 shells from Blount's battery burst at the muzzle, and a great 
 piece of it struck my comrade in the thigh. 
 
 The Shah Najif fell into our possession towards evening, 
 after it had been for a considerable time subjected to such 
 a bombardment from Captain Peel's naval guns, and from 
 other heavy pieces worked by the Royal Artillery, that 
 the native garrison could no longer remain in it. 
 
 When the day's work was over, we were ordered to retire 
 and bivouac under the high walls of the Sekunder Bagh. As 
 soon as I had pUed arms, I went inside to try and find my 
 comrade Bamston, as I was told the wounded had been sent 
 there. This was a mistake, but I was glad I went in, for I 
 never before had seen the dead piled up, one above the other 
 in tiers, in order to clear a passage through a mass of slain. Such 
 was the case in the archway leading into that awful charnel- 
 house where lay the bodies of some 2,000 unfaithful sepoys. 
 As soon as I entered the garden I was fired at by some of the 
 enemy in one of the corner towers of the building, and having 
 ascertained that none of our wounded were in the place I 
 returned to my bivouac with a saddened heart at having 
 failed to find my chum. Major Barnston. Later on I found 
 him. He was quite cheery but said he was cold, so I gave 
 him my overcoat. We parted, and my heart was sore indeed, 
 for I knew from personal experience how dangerous big 
 wounds in India always are. I never saw him again. He 
 was taken to Cawnpore, and during the morning of the day 
 he died,as I was afterwards told, he received a letter from me, 
 which was read to him, at which he was much pleased, and 
 he was greatly interested with the military news it contained. 
 The remembrance of that fact has always been a satisfaction 
 to me. In common with all his comrades, I deeply felt his 
 VOL. I. 305 X 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 death, and we all realized that England had lost in him a 
 soldier of very great promise indeed : a man who possessed 
 all the qualities and qualifications required by a leader in 
 war. 
 
 I had a cold bivouac that night in a thin sUk jacket without 
 a greatcoat. When I sat up the next morning, I smelt some- 
 thing burning, and upon looking at the high wall of the 
 Sekunder Bagh immediately above me, I saw the dead body 
 of a sepoy lying across it, and partly hanging over its edge. 
 He was dressed in a cotton-padded sort of greatcoat, which 
 had caught fire and was slowly burning : the smell of his frizz- 
 ling flesh was not very refreshing in that early morning hour. 
 At the same time some Sikh soldiers made their appearance 
 upon the same part of the wall. They called to some three 
 or four of the enemy who had spent the night in a comer 
 tower, ordering them to come out. The evening before, long 
 after the fighting there was over, these men had kept up a 
 fire upon all who entered the garden and had wounded 
 several of our men. They came out, looking meek, for I pre- 
 sume they had had no food or water for many hours. The 
 Sikhs made them kneel down, and having asked them many 
 questions that I could not catch killed them with their 
 tulwars. Months afterwards whilst relating the fate of these 
 men to Augustus Anson, then A.D.C. to Sir Hope Grant, he 
 said that not long after the fighting had ceased for the day 
 he was sent with a message. Believing that the person for 
 whom it was intended might be found in the Sekunder Bagh, 
 he rode into it through the big gate. There was a little de- 
 sultory firing still going on between some Highlanders and 
 the sepoys in the towers. His attention was attracted to a 
 Highlander who at that moment was stalking some one 
 amongst the orange trees inside the place. He saw him go 
 
 30O 
 
A WOMAN SHOT IN A TREE 
 
 down on his knees, take steady aim, fire, and then heard 
 some one fall from the tree aimed at. To his horror, and to 
 that of the Highlander's also, they found it was an old woman 
 who, Anson afterwards discovered, had been put up there a 
 short time before by a humane officer who wished to get her 
 out of danger. The poor Highlander was very much put 
 out, but said he had been already fired upon several times by 
 some one in that direction, and thought the bullets had come 
 from a man in that tree. 
 
 Before my company advanced the next morning — Tuesday, 
 November 17 — two very long and deep trenches were dug 
 on the side of the road that led into Lucknow, and in them 
 the enemy's dead were placed crossways. Some one kept a 
 tally of the total number buried in them, and I was told at 
 the time that it was the number of the year, 1857. I don't 
 suppose that in modem times any such great number of men 
 killed in action on a very small space of ground, had ever been 
 thus buried in two heaps. The two pits were nearly filled 
 with the dead, and the excavated earth was heaped over 
 them. 
 
 Our pouches and artiUery limbers had to be replenished, 
 and we all wanted food, for we had had very little to eat dur- 
 ing the previous day. This, and I presume other circum- 
 stances that I know not of, made us late in renewing our 
 advance. We began by pressing back the enemy on our left 
 so as to secure that flank of the columns on our right with 
 which it was intended to attack seriously. The great point 
 to be attacked that day was what had been the officers' Mess 
 House of our 32nd Regiment — now the Duke of Cornwall's 
 Light Infantry — which had long formed the most important 
 part of the Lucknow garrison before the Mutiny. We knew 
 it was surrounded by a masonry-reveted ditch having two 
 
 307 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 drawbridges over it, one towards us, the other towards the 
 city. It stood on high ground in the middle of a large garden 
 enclosed with kutcha, i.e. unbaked brick walls in a dilapi- 
 dated condition, and both it and the garden were held in 
 force by the enemy. 
 
 When Sir Colin had pounded it for a considerable time with 
 all his available guns, he sent for me and made me quite a 
 flattering little speech. He told me he had selected me for 
 this attack, and described what he knew of the Mess House 
 defences, as I have just described the place. He added, that 
 if I found I could not take it, I was to place my men under 
 cover and return myself to teU him what I had seen, etc. All 
 he said conveyed to me the impression that he did not think 
 we should succeed at our first onslaught. But I was in the 
 seventh heaven of delight and extremely proud at being thus 
 selected for what Sir Colin evidently deemed a difficult and a 
 dangerous duty. I was pleased beyond measure with the 
 kind expressions he used towards me — what children we all 
 are, and how easily tickled by a great man's praise ! What a 
 lever it is for him to work with who knows how to use it 
 deftly ! But I confess that running then through the back 
 of my brain was the unworthy suspicion that my company 
 was to be employed upon a dangerous attempt which, although 
 it might not succeed, might yet open the way for the High- 
 landers. We aU suspected that he wished his despatch to 
 announce that one of his old Crimean Highland Brigade regi- 
 ments was the first to join hands with the besieged garrison. 
 Was it not even possible that the Gordon Highlanders, who 
 formed part of the garrison, should be ordered to make a 
 sortie to meet the relieving army ? How dramatic the story 
 would then read in despatches of how the splendid High- 
 landers under the Scotch general Sir Colin Campbell, had, 
 
 308 
 
ASSAULT OF MESS HOUSE BY 90TH L.I. 
 
 with pipes playing, fought their way into Lucknow to relieve 
 another distinguished Highland regiment that was closely 
 besieged there ! Surely, bonfires would have blazed on every 
 hill north of the Tweed in honour of such a national achieve- 
 ment ! 
 
 Thoughts such as these were in my men's heads also. 
 They may have been unworthy of the great, the splendid 
 soldier to whom they applied. But after all, the conviction 
 that inspired them sharpened the rowels of the spur which 
 stimulated all ranks in my company at the moment, and made 
 them determine that no breechesless Highlanders should get 
 in front of them that day. I overheard many of them ex- 
 press that determination in very explicit Saxon English. 
 They continued to be outspoken upon this point until, some- 
 what later in the day, they saw me in the big square of the 
 Motee Mahul shake hands with Captain Tinling of our regi- 
 ment, who with his company had just made a sortie from the 
 besieged garrison in order to meet the relieving force as we 
 approached. Thus, the first greetings between besieged and 
 besieger were between two companies of my battalion, a cir- 
 cumstance all the regiment was proud of. But this fact was 
 not recorded in any despatch. It is this intense feeling of 
 regimental rivalry that is the life-blood of our old, historic 
 Army, and makes it what it is in action. But some Scotch 
 generals were at this time prone to magnify the noble deeds 
 of Scotch battalions in a way that seriously irritated those 
 from England and Ireland. Neither Sir Hope Grant nor 
 Adrian Hope ever did so. Though both were ardent 
 and proud Scotchmen they did ample justice to all soldiers, 
 whether they came from the hills of Scotland, the 
 banks of the Shannon, the mountains of Wales or the shires 
 of England. 
 
 309 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 Having " front formed " my company, we started at a 
 good steady double for the Mess House. I had with me my 
 three subalterns, Carter, Herford and Haig, and close behind 
 my company came that of Captain Irby, of my bat- 
 talion. That old friend and best of comrades was, as 
 usual, smiling and using strong language to all around 
 him ; with him was my good friend Dr., now Sir Robert 
 Jackson, our regimental assistant surgeon. I steadied 
 my men and " whipped them in " at the garden wall as we 
 scrambled over it, and then made for the open doorway of 
 the Mess House itself. It was a fine, strongly buUt square 
 building, and as I reached the masonry-reveted ditch round 
 it, I rejoiced to find the drawbridge down, and quite passable. 
 It had suffered, however, from the heavy bombardment we 
 had kept up so long upon the position generally, and it was 
 broken at places. As I ran across it, no sepoy was to be seen 
 anjAvhere ! I ran to the corresponding door on the opposite 
 side of the house, and could see the enemy as they scuttled 
 quickly from the bullets some of my men were firing to help 
 them on their way. The garden in that direction seemed 
 fairly fiiU of them. My bugler sounded the 90th call and 
 the advance as we crossed the drawbridge, and I soon found 
 my " pal," Captain Irby, with his company beside me ; with 
 them sdso came a number of the 53rd Regiment. No corps in 
 India had a more deservedly high fighting reputation. It 
 was mostly composed of reckless, dare-devil Irishmen, but 
 at that time many of its company officers were middle-aged 
 men who had been too long in India. An old captain of that 
 regiment now came forward and wanted to find out from me 
 whether he or I was the senior as a captain, and therefore in 
 command of the place. I don't remember his name, though 
 I do his face. I am afraid my answer was not couched in 
 
 310 
 
ASSAULT OF THE MESS HOUSE 
 
 very polite terms, and I saw no more of him for the rest 
 of the day. 
 
 Some one in after years asserted that I claimed the 
 honour of having hoisted a Union Jack upon this Mess 
 House when we took it. My answer was, that it was taken 
 by my company, immediately supported by Captain Irby's 
 company, also of the 90th Light Infantry, but I did not 
 know who the hero was that had hoisted a flag upon it : all I 
 knew was, that it was not I who had done so, and that no flag 
 was hoisted upon the Mess House whilst I was in it, and as 
 to what took place after my company had gone through it 
 to take the Motee Mahul, I could say nothing. 
 
 The enemy opened a heavy fire upon the house as soon as 
 we got into it ; I had no orders as to what we shotdd do if we 
 succeeded in taking the place, so pointing to a very large and 
 fine building to our left front I said to my good cheery 
 comrade, Captain Irby — who laughed at everything — 
 "You go and take it, whilst I take the place to our right." 
 The building he took I knew well later on, as I lived in 
 it for a couple of weeks after the final capture of Lucknow. 
 It was called the " Tar a Kothee " or " House of the 
 Stars," as the Astronomer Royal of the Oudh Court lived 
 there with his instruments. The building I selected to 
 make for seemed an extensive place, but I did not know then 
 that it was the Moti Mahul Palace, which joined the ad- 
 vanced position recently occupied by the headquarters of my 
 own Battalion in the Chattah Munzil. Followed by my subal- 
 terns and men I got over the garden wall of the Mess House 
 in the direction of the Residency. We were then in a broad 
 road up which the enemy were firing pretty merrily from the 
 Kaisar Bagh Palace and neighbouring buildings, so we passed 
 it at a run to obtain shelter in a sort of open arcade-like place 
 
 311 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 outside the Moti Mahul Palace wall and close to the great 
 gate iiato it. This " Motee Mahul " or " Pearl Palace " was 
 surrounded by a thick masonry wall at least twenty feet in 
 height, and was the home of the Begum. There stood a high 
 detached wall, some fifteen yards in extent, in front of the 
 entrance, so that although you could drive round this sort of 
 outer " tambour," no matter where you stood you could 
 not see into the courtyard within. The enemy had recently 
 built up the two entrances round this tambour into the 
 palace square, the fresh brickwork being well loopholed. In 
 fact, they had thus provided that face of the palace with 
 a good flanking defence. From its loopholes the enemy at 
 once opened fire upon us. What was to be done ? We 
 could only stay where we were by taking forcible possession 
 of those loopholes. When two hostile bodies are thus sepa- 
 rated, it is naturally the pluckier of the two who maintains 
 himself at the loopholes. In this instance the Pandees soon 
 gave up the question of ownership in our favour. But they 
 occasionally contrived to sneak a shot through by crawling 
 along the ground with a loaded musket, and inserting its 
 muzzle suddenly into a loophole they managed somehow or 
 other to puU the trigger on the chance of hitting some one. I 
 had a few men wounded by this process, and was consequently 
 anxious to dig a hole as quickly as possible through this 
 newly constructed brickwork, whose freshly laid mortar was 
 still soft. The old walls round the palace were too high and 
 too solid to admit of our either climbing over, or of our bur- 
 rowing under them. I called to those in rear to send me a few 
 crowbars and pickaxes, and in a short time we saw men in the 
 near distance coming with some. My old servant Andrews, 
 seeing these men were going astray, ran into the open to put 
 them right again, and as he did so he was laid low by a shot 
 
 312 
 
RELIEF OF LUCKNOW 
 
 from a loophole that, not being one of those looking down 
 where my men were, I had not obtained possession of. I ran 
 into the road where he fell, and getting my arms under him 
 proceeded to drag him under cover. Whilst doing so, 
 another shot, coming from a loophole not ten feet off — fired 
 at me, I presume — went through him. I soon had him in a 
 place of safety, and I think my old and valued friend, now 
 Sir Robert Jackson, who was always in the thick of every 
 fight, then one of our assistant surgeons, patched him up 
 temporarily. But, poor fellow, he was never able to serve 
 again, and died some years afterwards from this wound 
 when serving in the Corps of Commissioners. A braver or 
 more daring soldier I never knew. He was a pure Cockney. 
 The newly arrived tools were soon in use, and with them 
 a hole was being rapidly made through the lately built loop- 
 holed waU, when a civilian made his appearance. My first 
 idea was that he had come out from the Residency. Asked 
 who he was, he said he was Mr. Kavanagh who — as already 
 mentioned — had recently joined us at the Alum Bagh from 
 Sir James Outram, for the purpose of pointing out to Sir 
 CoHn Campbell the best road by which he could reach the 
 Residency. He said he had lived so long in Lucknow that 
 he knew weU the locality we were in, and that if I would go 
 with him he would show me a way round by which I could 
 easily get into the Motee Mahul. I did so, but thought he 
 did not know his way about as well as he had led me to sup- 
 pose. At last he took me to another gate, but it was also 
 built up. I consequently made my way back quickly to 
 where I had left some of my men busily engaged in making a 
 hole through the wall that shut us out from the great 
 entrance. As I approached, I caught sight of the soles of a 
 pair of boots and the lower part of a man's legs, the rest of 
 
 313 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 his body being through the small hole just made, which others 
 were still working hard to enlarge. I asked who it was : 
 " Ensign Haig " was the answer. I have seen many a reckless 
 deed done in action, but I never knew of a more dare-devil 
 exhibition of pluck than this was. In any other regiment 
 this young ensign would have had the Victoria Cross, but to 
 ask for that decoration was not the custom in the goth 
 Light Infantry. 
 
 The hole grew rapidly bigger, and one by one we crawled 
 through it until the whole company were within the tam- 
 bour. I took them at once into the open courtyard, round 
 one side of which there were still stray knots of the enemy 
 who fired at us from open doors and windows. As I marched 
 along it, keeping close to the buildings, a man suddenly made 
 a fierce cut at me with his tulwar which nearly shaved my 
 head as I just managed to avoid it. They began to fire 
 through small loopholes that had been pierced through the 
 walls of the buildings in which they had taken refuge. I had 
 several of these holes covered over with little baskets, so 
 common in all native buildings, which well propped up from 
 without by sticks prevented those inside from aiming well at 
 us outside. We there killed many of the enemy, at which 
 work we were busily employed when suddenly there was an 
 explosion on the opposite, the western, side of the courtyard, 
 and out of the cloud of dust and smoke that rose from it, 
 there ran forward an of&cer and a number of British soldiers 
 coming from Mr. Martin's house and the Residency direction. 
 To the astonishment of us all, it was Captain Tinling of my 
 regiment with his company behind him. They had sprung 
 a mine to blow down the palace wall to enable them to make 
 a sortie in order to meet our relieving force. We had both 
 too much to do to squander time in commonplace talk, but 
 
 314 
 
THE GARRISON RELIEVED 
 
 to all ranks of those two companies the meeting was 
 indeed a hearty one, and none of the survivors are likely 
 to forget it. 
 
 Shortly afterwards there came out from the Residency 
 the chivalrous Outram, and with him the stern Iron- 
 side, General Havelock, looking ill and worn. 
 
 In that square, where the two companies of my 
 regiment, the reheved and the relievers, met, there 
 shortly afterwards took place the celebrated meeting 
 between Sir Colin Campbell and the two besieged 
 generals. The well-known picture of that event shows 
 the main gate by which my company forced its way 
 in, and though there is a theatrical air about the picture, 
 which represents every one looking clean and tidy, which none 
 of us certainly did look, the main features of that remark- 
 able and historic event are well represented on the canvas. 
 
 Whilst in this palace square, our Brigadier, Colonel Adrian 
 Hope, took me aside and said, " I advise you to keep out of 
 Sir Colin's way : he is furious with you for pushing on beyond 
 the Mess House, for the capture of which his orders to you 
 alone extended." " Rather hard on me," was my answer. 
 However I was fuUy compensated for this unlooked-for 
 injustice on the part of the Commander-in-Chief, by the 
 extremely kind and flattering terms in which Adrian Hope 
 spoke to me of what my company had achieved. I confess, 
 however, that I felt much hurt by what he told me, though I 
 fuUy understood the reason ; I had upset Sir Colin's little 
 plan for the relief of Lucknow by the 93rd Highlanders. 
 
 Colonel Adrian Hope said, "Your men must be tired, take 
 them back along the main road and halt upon it near the 
 Shah Najif ; they will be sure of having a quiet night there, 
 and they want it." 
 
 315 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 Rather sore, very sore indeed I may say, at what my Briga- 
 dier had told me, I marched my men off to the appointed 
 spot, piled arms upon the side of the road, and all having had 
 something to eat, we lay down there for a good night's rest. 
 I don't know how long I had been in the land of dreams when 
 I was roused by the angry voice of one of my subalterns, a 
 charming man named Carter. As he was using strong 
 language — and he could use strong expletives upon occasion 
 — I inquired what the matter was : he said that some infernal 
 son of a gun had put one of the legs of his charpoy — a native 
 bed — right in the middle of his stomach. I tried to soothe 
 him, and we were all soon once more soundly forgetful of 
 life's miseries. 
 
 At the first streak of dawn I awoke and sat up, somewhat 
 stiff, for I was cold, having no greatcoat. My eye Ht upon 
 the offending charpoy that Carter had condemned in strong 
 words to the " old gentleman's " care during the previous 
 night. Its occupant woke up at the same moment, and to 
 my horror I saw it was Sir Colin. He also had come back to 
 that quiet spot on the road for some sleep, and some one had 
 found a charpoy for him. In placing it on the road, Sir Colin 
 had accidentally planted one of its legs upon my subaltern 
 Carter's stomach. The whole position under ordinary cir- 
 cumstances would have been intensely comical had it not 
 been for what Adrian Hope had told me the evening before. 
 Sir CoUn saw me in a moment, and shaking his fist at me with 
 a pleasant smile, he said, " If I had but caught you yester- 
 day ! " His anger had left him, and no man ever said nicer 
 or more complimentary things to me than he did then. He 
 ended our conversation by telling me I should have my 
 promotion. He did not know that two years before I had 
 already been promised it as soon as I should complete the 
 
 316 
 
WITHDRAWAL OF THE GARRISON 
 
 regulation period of six years' service required for that rank. 
 What a lucky man I have always been in my relations with 
 all the brave and gallant soldiers of every rank I have had to 
 deal with in peace and in war, at home and abroad ! 
 
 The next day all arrangements were made for our tempo- 
 rary withdrawal from Lucknow. The news from Cawnpore 
 was very bad, for everything had gone wrong there. The 
 mutinied Gwalior contingent had attacked the place, and 
 had taken the city and the storehouses where Havelock's 
 army had left their baggage ; had driven General Windham 
 within his entrenchments, where everything was said to be 
 in confusion ; in fact, a capable leader was urgently required 
 there. 
 
 In addition to all this. Sir Colin was heavily encumbered 
 with sick and wounded soldiers, and with the care of a crowd 
 of about 500 British women and children of the Lucknow 
 garrison. Until he had put all these in some place of safety 
 he was as helpless for action as would be the giant over- 
 weighted with chains. 
 
 A screened roadway was made from the Residency 
 to the nearest of our outposts — which consisted of 
 my company — near the breach in the Motee Mohul wall, 
 through which Captain Tinling's company of my battalion 
 had come to meet us, as already described. Behind this 
 cover the women and children and the wounded were to 
 be withdrawn. It was very desirable to keep from the 
 enemy's knowledge as long as possible the fact that we 
 were about to abandon Lucknow for the present. That object 
 was most cleverly and successfully secured. It was a fine 
 piece of staff work and management that did great credit to 
 Sir Colin and to all the staff officers concerned. 
 
 Every one coming out of Lucknow had thus to pass through 
 
 317 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 my picket, so all my company had a good opportunity of 
 seeing the women whom they had fought for — alas, too 
 many of them were ^dows. Their faces bespoke priva- 
 tions, bad food and illness, and their careworn features 
 told us not only of bodily suffering but of sorrow bravely 
 endured. Amongst this long straggling crowd were widows 
 and orphans left by gallant soldiers who had nobly died 
 for England in the defence of the place. Let us hope 
 that these helpless women and their children were all 
 weU provided for by the country for whom their husbands 
 and their fathers had so gallantly fought. Many of the 
 women were heavily laden with bundles, and some had large 
 bags filled with rupees which weighed them down. Many 
 upon finding themselves safe amongst the relieving army 
 put down their babies and their parcels to converse with my 
 men. But I had to remind them that although hidden from 
 the enemy's view they had no protection there from his 
 round shot. In fact, I had to hurry them along. They 
 seemed too sad and down in their luck to manifest any joy at 
 their escape. A very few drove in buggies drawn by atten- 
 uated horses. I did not see a happy or a contented or a smil- 
 ing face amongst that crowd ; not one of them said a gracious 
 word to the soldiers who had saved them, a fact which my 
 men remarked upon. Indeed, poor creatures, they did not 
 make a favourable impression upon any of us, for they 
 seemed cross ; they certainly gmmbled much at everything 
 and everybody. 
 
 November 22, 1857, found me stiU on picket on the 
 path we had opened out between the garrison and the reliev- 
 ing force. One incident struck me as illustrating the indiffer- 
 ence to human life that war tends to engender. During 
 that afternoon a captain of my battalion, who belonged to 
 
 318 
 
A GREAT EXPLOSION 
 
 the besieged garrison, marched out with his company in charge 
 of the State prisoners. Upon reaching my post, he halted to 
 count them as they went past to assure himself they were all 
 there. As the last man of his company approached — he was 
 weU known as a good fighting soldier but not of irreproach- 
 able character — one prisoner was missing. My friend and 
 comrade was dreadfully distressed, and called out to the 
 soldier, '* Where's your prisoner ? " The reply came at once, 
 "We had great dif&culty in getting him along, sir, and at last 
 he stopped altogether and refused to go any further, so I was 
 obliged to shoot him." 
 
 To him the whole affair seemed a mere matter of no 
 moment. I am afraid that warfare, especially of the 
 nature we were then engaged in, tends much to blunt man's 
 best feelings, though it also develops the noblest man is 
 capable of. 
 
 My company did not move off until all the garrison had 
 passed out. Then the three Transit companies of the 
 90th Light Infantry marched silently away and rejoined our 
 regimental headquarters after an absence from it of over 
 seven months. When we had reached the Martiniere, I was 
 ordered to halt and pile arms not far from a deserted battery 
 of the enemy's. It was now daylight, and most of us were 
 soon asleep ; I know I was. I was roused suddenly by some- 
 thing hitting me in the face, a small clod of earth I think, 
 and upon jumping to my feet I saw a huge cloud of white 
 smoke rising up from this battery. There was no explosion, 
 so it must have been a quantity of loose powder that had 
 been accidentally ignited by some careless smoker. A black- 
 ened object rushed madly from this smoke, and when in a few 
 minutes afterwards I saw the poor fellow lying before me, he 
 said he was Private Pierce — my plucky and faithful servant 
 
 319 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 who had behaved so well when we were shipwrecked. He 
 had probably inhaled the flame, for his inside seemed to have 
 been burned, and when I saw him some time later on — he was 
 then unconscious — yellow pus was running from his mouth. 
 He could not then say a word, and we never knew how this 
 terrible accident occurred, for he died very soon. 
 
 Our retirement from Lucknow was carefully planned 
 and admirably carried out by Sir Colin Campbell. General 
 Havelock died whilst this retirement was being effected. 
 
 I have always believed from what I was told of General 
 Havelock's advance upon Lucknow, that, gallant soldier and 
 well experienced in Indian warfare though he was, he was 
 worn out and debilitated from long and arduous service in 
 India when the storm of the great Mutiny first swept over 
 the Bengal Presidency. The son — a man of untiring energy 
 and considerable ability, a real fighting soldier by nature — I 
 knew intimately, as he served under me upon the staff in 
 Canada, and I had also met him in India during the Mutiny. 
 A more daring or a braver soul never existed. He thoroughly 
 understood war in aU its phases, and was well read in its 
 science. Though at times eccentric, he was a grand fellow 
 all round. He helped his father greatly during all the 
 fighting between Cawnpore and Lucknow. 
 
 Sir Colin Campbell, having thus relieved the Lucknow 
 garrison, moved back to the Alum Bagh on November 24. 
 The serious condition of affairs at Cawnpore was at the 
 moment the point of most urgent consideration, and 
 demanded his immediate attention. 
 
 The Gwalior contingent of about 5,000 trained sepoys, 
 joined by a large number of mutineers from the native army 
 of Bengal and by a crowd of Budmashes from the surround- 
 ing districts, making in aU a force of over 10,000 fighting men, 
 
 320 
 
WITH SIR JAMES OUTRAM 
 
 had hemmed in General Windham. His hastUy constructed 
 entrenchments were Httle more than a very weak tete-de-font 
 protecting the bridge of boats by which Havelock's force had 
 crossed the Ganges on its way to Lucknow. It would be im- 
 possible to continue the war in Oudh unless Cawnpore was in 
 our possession and our line of communications from it to 
 Allahabad and Calcutta kept open. It was therefore of 
 paramount importance that the Commander-in-Chief should 
 hmry back in all haste to reUeve General Windham. In 
 fact, to make good our possession of Cawnpore and of its 
 bridge of boats was the most pressing necessity of the moment. 
 But Sir Colin resolved to leave General Sir James Outram 
 with a division of British troops in camp near the Alum 
 Bagh. This would be at least an outward evidence of 
 our rule in a province largely composed of fanatical 
 Mohammedans and of high-caste, EngHsh-hating Rajpoot 3 
 and Brahmins, all accustomed to the use of arms from child- 
 hood. It would also so engage the attention of the native 
 rulers of Oudh that they would not be Hkely to send help to 
 the enemy at Cawnpore. As soon as Sir CoUn could dispose 
 of the Gwalior contingent, make Cawnpore safe, and re- 
 establish order in its neighbourhood, it was Lord Can- 
 ning's intention that he should return to the Alum Bagh 
 for the'purpose- of finally taking and ' permanently'occupy- 
 ing Lucknow. I explain this further on. 
 
 On November 27 Sir Colin started for Cawnpore, taking 
 all the sick and wounded, all the women and children 
 brought out of the Residency, and his siege train with him. 
 None of us outsiders had any conception of the very critical 
 position Cawnpore was in at the moment. We subse- 
 quently learnt from Sir James Outram that Sir CoHn had 
 arrived just in time to save the Cawnpore position, but he 
 
 VOL I. 321 Y 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 did not tell us that Sir Colin had found everything and 
 everybody at sixes and sevens, hke a beaten army, within 
 the place. Having engaged and heavily defeated the 
 enemy, he then proceeded to clear them from the 
 Doab between the Ganges and the Jumna rivers. This he 
 did effectually, and at once began to collect the army that 
 subsequently enabled him to do the same in Oudh also. 
 
 After Sir Cohn Campbell's relief of Lucknow, many 
 wished him to push his success further and take final posses- 
 sion of the place, but he wisely decided otherwise. Al- 
 though not yet fully aware of the critical position into 
 which General Windham had fallen at Cawnpore, he knew 
 enough to make him anxious for the safety of that city, 
 then the most important link in his line of communications. 
 For no moment did he pay heed to this advice which some 
 tiien pressed upon him. He would have none of it. But 
 he had taken much trouble to make the enemy believe he 
 meant to follow it, and that a general assault of the city was 
 imminent. To further impress this belief upon the Lucknow 
 people, he opened fire upon the Kaiser Bagh on November 20, 
 1857, breaching its walls in three places, and, as it was 
 then believed, killing many of its garrison. It was to 
 him an anxious time. In his despatch upon the relief of 
 the besieged garrison, he says that during November 20, 
 21, and 22, 1857, the long line he held extended from the 
 Lucknow Residency to the Dil Khoosha Palace, and that 
 during those days his army was but one great outlying 
 picket, of which every man was always on duty. To this 
 statement I can add, from what I felt and saw, that every 
 man, from the genered to the bugler, was on his mettle, and 
 had the fullest confidence in their commander. 
 
 To have conveyed the 500 women and children, the 
 
 322 
 
WITHDRAWAL FROM LUCKNOW 
 
 1,000 sick and wounded, safely away, without a hitch, and 
 without any attack being made upon them, was, I think, 
 the best piece of staff work I have ever seen. The garrison 
 withdrew through my picket at midnight on November 22, 
 the whole operations being carried out by the brigadier- 
 general, the Hon. Adrian Hope, one of the most rising men 
 then in our Army. So completely were the enemy taken 
 in, that next morning they opened fire as usual upon the 
 buildings we had held during the siege, and for some hours 
 did not discover that we had vacated them. 
 
 This Sir Colin Campbell effected in the face of an enemy 
 many times more numerous than the force he commanded. It 
 was a great military achievement, and reflected the utmost 
 credit upon all concerned. He had vindicated our national 
 honour by what he had done, and rightly felt he must place 
 these soldiers' families and his woimded in a place of safety 
 before he undertook any new venture. 
 
 When he had crossed the Ganges in November, 1857, to 
 relieve the Lucknow garrison, he left Sir Charles Windliam 
 at Cawnpore with a smaU garrison of British soldiers, 
 subsequently made up to a force of about 2,000 fighting men. 
 Cawnpore was then a position of the first importance to 
 us, and where we had constructed a good bridge of boats 
 over the Ganges, by which we communicated with the 
 Alum Bagh. In fact, Cawnpore was the hnk which joined 
 Oudh to our old Indian provinces, and through which our 
 reinforcements from Calcutta reached us. Benares, 
 Allahabad, and Cawnpore were the three important garri- 
 sons that joined the army in Oudh to our base on the 
 river Hooghley. 
 
 As a friend and companion I liked General Windham 
 much when I came to know him well in Canada. A man 
 
 323 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 of the world, he had many charming qualities : was never 
 hard upon others in word or deed, and always inclined to 
 make allowances for human failings. But when in com- 
 mand of the column that assaulted the Redan, he had 
 been unfortunate as I have already mentioned in a 
 previous chapter. He had this other chance afforded 
 him at Cawnpore two years later, and he was again 
 unfortunate. But it must be admitted that he had an 
 extremely difficult game to play at Cawnpore, having not 
 only to defend his weak entrenchments, but also to keep 
 an enemy overwhelmingly superior in numbers at a suffi- 
 cient distance to prevent them from destroying the boat 
 bridge over the Ganges there. The Gwalior contingent, 
 a large and fairly well drilled native force, and furnished 
 with field and heavy artillery, had mutinied and moved 
 down upon him in a body. Driven back to his entrench- 
 ments, the position was only saved by the timely arrival 
 of Sir Colin and the force with which he had just reUeved 
 Lucknow. I cannot help adding, however, that in my 
 opinion Sir Colin might have finished his work at Lucknow 
 and reached Cawnpore two days earHer. Had he done so. 
 General Windham's abandonment of his camp and the retreat 
 within his entrenchments would have been avoided. 
 
 324 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 With Sir James Outram at the Alum Bagh 
 
 IT had long been customary with the great Oudh zameen- 
 dars to keep on foot considerable bodies of well armed 
 feudal sepoys, undisciplined according to our notions, but 
 good fighters and loyal to their chiefs. Most of those great 
 landowners lived in considerable state in their well-built 
 forts, some of them well provided with guns, and aU of 
 considerable size and importance. For the previous half 
 century or more they had lived at constant war with one 
 another, and thus both the use of arms and the practice 
 of war on a small scale were common to all classes in the 
 Province. The Commander-in-Chief determined there- 
 fore to leave for the present a weak Division under Sir 
 James Outram encamped near the Alum Bagh to represent 
 British rule in Oudh, until he could return, when he had 
 disposed of the Gwalior contingent then attacking Cawn- 
 pore. Apart from the fact that Sir James Outram was one 
 of our very best generals, his intimate knowledge of Oudh 
 and of its affairs, of its chiefs and their history, eminently 
 qualified him for that important command. My battalion, 
 now the Scottish Rifles, formed part of that Division. 
 
 The position he took up was astride the Cawnpore Road, 
 about a mile south of the Alum Bagh and two miles from 
 the suburbs of Lucknow city. The right rested upon the 
 
 325 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 fort and neighbouring jeels of Jellahabad ; the left was in 
 the open, but protected by the villages, which, within a 2,000 
 yards' radius of our left flank had been placed in a state of 
 defence. For a dead level country it possessed some 
 elements of defensive strength, and it was above all things 
 a defiant challenge to the very numerous enemy in front 
 and all round to come and attack us if they dared. 
 
 Sir James Outram's Division consisted of over 200 
 Military Train, then being converted into cavalry, and 
 a few Volunteers (British) also mounted. The British 
 battalions were of the Northumberland Fusiliers, of the 
 Gordon Highlanders, of the Seaforth Highlanders, of the 
 York and Lancaster, of the Scottish Rifles, and of the 
 Madras Fusihers ; there were two native battalions. 
 Brazier's Sikhs, and a Madras native infantry regiment. 
 The Division was divided into two Brigades, both of 
 which were commanded by absolutely incompetent men. 
 They were the two senior colonels in the Division, and 
 in those days no other qualifications were required. They 
 were both gallant gentlemen who would ride straight for 
 their enemy whenever he presented himself, but it was 
 a parody upon sense to call them generals, for neither 
 had any knowledge of the science or the art of war. 
 We are still an extraordinary nation as regards our 
 military system, but we were then even much worse. 
 The grand total of the Division was 3,395 English, and 
 1,047 natives. All were seasoned to fighting and all were 
 the survival of the fittest, the weaker having already suc- 
 cumbed to disease, or being still in or on their way to the 
 hospitals at Cawnpore. 
 
 Our Transit detachment of three companies was now 
 to rejoin our battalion headquarters. Our late Brigadier, 
 
 326 
 
OLPHERTS AND MAUDE 
 
 Adrian Hope, under whom it was a real pleasure to serve, 
 came to our bivouac to bid us good-bye. He made us a 
 little speech, thanking all ranks in most graceful words for 
 their gaUant services. We thoroughly appreciated such 
 praise from so loveable, so brilliant a leader. Alas, my 
 great friend Bamston, by far the best officer of any rank 
 in Colonel Hope's brigade, was not there to hear him : he 
 died of his wounds soon after, and without doubt he went 
 to the bright abode that is surely reserved for all good 
 soldiers who die in action, and where the daring Hope, the 
 young brigadier we aU esteemed so higlily, was so soon to 
 foUow him. Our detachment gave our late Brigadier 
 three hearty cheers as he rode away : we were never to see 
 him again in this world. He fell fighting nobly soon after- 
 wards. 
 
 There were two batteries of field artillery in this 
 Division, both commanded by remarkable men. One 
 by Captain Olpherts — invariably called to the day of 
 his death Billy Olpherts — the other by a clever fellow 
 named Maude. Both were as brave as God ever creates 
 brave men, and they vied with one another in deeds of 
 reckless daring. In this splendid quality there was no 
 choosing between them. But BiUy Olpherts — an Irish- 
 man all over — appealed most to the affection of every one 
 who was privileged to know him well. Whenever he lost 
 men he generally came to my battalion for others to re- 
 place them, and so popular was he in it, where he was 
 well known, that he always found fine reckless spirits 
 anxious to join him. The above-mentioned Battalion of 
 oiu' then newly invented Military Train, which had been 
 diverted from China for service during this Mutiny, was a 
 valuable military asset. Though not suited by figure or 
 
 327 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 length of leg to be cavalry soldiers, they were white men 
 and were being rapidly converted into useful soldiers on 
 horseback, under an officer of the ^gth ^Lancers. 
 
 Altogether, notwithstanding its drawbacks in the shape 
 of Brigadiers, it was a splendid fighting division of seasoned 
 veterans, all ranks thoroughly imbued with the fullest 
 confidence in their able General, the daring fighter, the 
 practical administrator, and the generous comrade of all 
 soldiers, Sir James Outram. Of the many leaders I have 
 served under, he possessed the affection and the confidence 
 of all ranks more than any other. Over me he exercised a 
 great, an enduring speU. I did not know him well person- 
 ally : I worshipped him at a distance. His manner both 
 with men and officers was most captivating, and if any 
 General more than another deserves the special gratitude 
 of his country for great ser^dces rendered in Oudh during 
 the Mutiny, I hope I am not presumptuous in sa5dng that 
 I would certainly give the palm to Sir James Outram. 
 And here perhaps I may describe his character as I learnt 
 it from others, and as I judged it myself at the time and still 
 continue to estimate it. Upon each and all of us he made 
 a deep impression. Out generally at daybreak, I can see 
 him in my mind's eye now as he walked up to my outlying 
 picket, his horse led behind him, with the invariable cheroot 
 in his mouth, and a cheery " Good morning " to all around 
 him. If a kossid had lately arrived with any news, he 
 would usually read it out to the men, who thoroughly appre- 
 ciated his familiar kindness with them. His presence 
 anywhere made others bold and daring, and seemed in an 
 unaccountable way to stiffen the weak knees of the poor in 
 spirit. The very coward took heart to foUow him into 
 danger. There was something magnetic about his high 
 
 328 
 
SIR JAMES OUTRAM 
 
 courage that inspired general confidence. J,One forgot 
 one's own self in admiration of his determined bearing, and 
 at aU times and under all circumstances you recognized 
 the superiority of his manly iron nerve. I was always told 
 by those who knew him far better than I did, that his 
 chivalrous sympathy for those in trouble was on a par with 
 his heroism. He laughed at danger and mocked at diffi- 
 culties. A keen sportsman in every sense, he excelled in 
 manly exercises. Few Indian of&cials knew the native 
 character as thoroughly as he did. This insight into their 
 thought and mode of reasoning enabled him to foresee 
 what they would do under specified conditions and circum- 
 stances. In this innate faculty lay much of the influence 
 he exercised over them and through which he inspired 
 them with confidence in his justice. Styled the " Bayard 
 of India " by another great soldier as brave as he was and 
 perhaps blessed with a more brilliant genius, his name will 
 be long remembered by the descendants of the wild native 
 tribes he ruled so wisely. It will never be forgotten by our 
 soldiers who knew him in Oudh as long as manly daring 
 and fidelity to duty is held in honour by our race. Our men 
 repaid his kindness and geniahty by a real reverence and a 
 sincere affection. In January, 1858, Sir James Outram said 
 that according to the best information obtainable, the 
 number of the enemy then near his position at the Alum 
 Bagh was over 100,000 fighting men. This estimate, of 
 course, included many thousands of Lucknow budmashes, 
 the armed and turbulent scum of a fighting and factious 
 population. '■ 
 
 Life at Alum Bagh camp was monotonous, but by no 
 
 1 I take this estimate from a published dispatch of Sir James 
 Outram, dated February 28, 1858. 
 
 329 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 means dull. The want of books was felt most, far more 
 than the want of wine or other luxuries. Of course we had 
 races, for where is it that two or three Englishmen are ever 
 gathered together for any length of time without a race 
 meeting ? We had sports also, in both of which amusements 
 the men took great interest, and I have no doubt backed 
 their favomites freely, for at that time our men were " fuU 
 of money." They had not had any other opportunity of 
 spending their pay for a long while. Then we occasionally 
 had false alarms, those most worrying of aU incidents in a 
 campaign, to occupy us. The regimental bazaars were 
 always rife with startling rumours, and we only wanted a 
 halfpeimy " daily " to cheer the imagination on to further 
 developments in that line. 
 
 Our picket duty was heavy, and done, at least in my 
 battalion, by companies, the true system, the only possibly 
 good system on active service. I rather enjoyed this work, 
 although it kept me out of bed for the night, and often meant 
 a great deal of walking round my line of sentries to see that 
 all were on the alert and no enemy near at hand. 
 
 Either one or two days before Christmas, 1857, my com- 
 pany was on outlying picket in a village about a mile in 
 front of our camp, when the following curious incident 
 occurred. I have already mentioned a Major McInt5Te, 
 of the Gordon Highlanders, who had, as I thought unfairly, 
 put me and some brother officers under arrest when we were 
 under his conunand in the Alum Bagh Palace. I was con- 
 sequently prejudiced against him and always avoided him. 
 Upon the occasion I now refer to he had, as field officer 
 of the day, aU the outposts under his command during his 
 twenty-four hours' tour of duty. We had had a quiet 
 night, and as day was breaking the following morning I 
 
 330 
 
A SPLENDID SHOT 
 
 clambered to the flat roof of the biggest house in the village 
 to have a good look-out all round, and Major Mclntyre 
 quickly followed me there. The mutineers in front were 
 playing our ordinary reveille on their drums and fifes as 
 they had learnt it in their regiments. A sentry stood be- 
 tween me and Mclntyre, and we all three peered earnestly 
 into the twilight towards the enemy's position. Just then 
 two vidld geese flew over at about duck-shot range from us. 
 Quick as lightning this major snatched the sentry's rifle 
 and fired. One of the geese fell not far in front of us. Had 
 he not been known well as a first rate shot I should have 
 looked upon this as a mere " fluke," but in his case one 
 could not think so. Quite involuntarily on my part 1 ex- 
 claimed, " Well done, a splendid shot." 
 
 I was soon relieved and marched my men back to camp. 
 In the afternoon a native servant came to my tent with a 
 note, a bottle of port wine, and this wild goose. The note 
 was very civil, asking me to accept the goose for my Christ- 
 mas dinner the day following, and hoping I would wash it 
 down with the bottle of wine he ventured to send me. 
 So ended my enmity with this old major. He had entered 
 the Army when I was still in swaddling clothes. 
 
 I rode a great deal for exercise every day, and there were 
 some jeels about where my old chum Irby, an unerring 
 shot, managed often to pick up a few wild vduck. He had 
 a curious soldier servant whom he had trained as a retriever, 
 and no matter how deep the water where a duck fell, he 
 quickly brought it to his master. 
 
 General Outram's spies frequently brought news of in- 
 tended attacks upon our position, and once or twice the 
 enemy made some show in that direction, though they 
 usually preferred to keep at a respectful distance from us. 
 
 331 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 Our general was not a man to be caught napping, and long 
 experience of natives enabled him to foresee their inten- 
 tions and to thwart their plans. Every evening they 
 enlivened us with their old regimental bands at tattoo, 
 and it was amusing to listen to the old famihar airs they 
 played. Upon more than one occasion some of the more 
 adventurous and fanatical sepoys actually came close up 
 to our outposts ; but our rifle fire was not to their taste. 
 One of these attacks was headed by a fellow dressed up as a 
 Hunnoman, the Hindoo Monkey God. He was encountered 
 by Brazier's Sikhs, and although almost riddled with bullets, 
 one of which took out both his eyes, he was not killed. 
 The Sikhs kept him afterwards as a sort of sacred Joss, and 
 treated him most kindlj'. 
 
 Major Olpherts, whom I have ah'eady mentioned, was 
 an intimate friend of all the officers of my battahon. Dan- 
 ger, I beheve, amused as well as interested him. His 
 battery was a sort of nuhtary curiosity in every way. His 
 gun-carriages were old and always on the verge of absolute 
 dissolution, and as for his harness, it seemed to be tied 
 together with pieces of string. The battery had gone into 
 Lucknow with General Havelock, and was in every sense 
 a scratch lot. But the heart of every man belonging to it 
 was stout indeed, aU ranks taking their tone from their 
 gallant dare-devil captain. I knew him well up to the time 
 of his death, only a short whUe ago, and I am proud to 
 remember that he always regarded me as a real friend and 
 comrade. 
 
 One day there was more than usual semblance of a serious 
 attack upon us. Our bugles had suddenly sounded the 
 " Assembly," and I was soon busUy employed inspecting 
 my men on their " private parade." I heard the galloping 
 
 332 
 
BILLY OLPHERT'S BATTERY 
 
 of horses near me, and upon looking round saw it was 
 Olphert's battery going as fast as their wretched equipment 
 wovld admit of. First came dear old Billy himself, clad 
 in garments he had used in the Crimean War, a fez cap 
 and a Turkish grego, the latter tied round his waist with a 
 piece of rope. About fifty yards behind came his well- 
 known battery sergeant-major in a sort of shooting coat 
 made from the green baize of a billiard table ; then a gun, 
 every driver flogging as hard as he could ; then another at 
 a long distance in rear. One broke down, to the unprac- 
 tised eye hopelessly, immediately in front of my company. 
 Some of the spokes had gone : they all rattled. We were 
 all highly amused and interested, for many men in the 
 battery belonged to the goth Light Infantry. What would 
 the smart young major of horse artillery at Woolwich have 
 thought of such a battery ? I laugh even now as I recall 
 its appearance on parade, but as I think of the great ser- 
 vices it rendered at a very trjdng time dming the Mutiny, 
 and wherever they were required, I am proud to have 
 served in the same division with it, and to have been the 
 friend of the splendid soldier who commanded it. Would 
 that he were alive to read these pages ; I wonder if there 
 be a lending library in heaven. 
 
 333 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 The Siege and Capture of Lucknow, 1858 
 
 THE Governor-General can dictate to the Commander- 
 in-Chief the general line of pohcy to be adopted in 
 any war, but Lord Canning was wise enough to interfere 
 very little in the military plans adopted in 1857-8 for what 
 really constituted the re-conquest of India. 
 
 The relief of the Lucknow garrison being effected and the 
 serious attack of the Gwalior contingent upon Cawnpore 
 having been repulsed with loss, the great question was, in 
 what direction could our military forces be now used to the 
 best advantage ? Our new ally, Jung Bahadoor, at that 
 time a somewhat " doubtful quantity " in our miUtary 
 calculations, was to be in Soogowlee in our territory about 
 December 21, 1857, marching upon Goruckpoor. The 
 question was in what direction should he be ordered to 
 advance ? Westward to Fyzabad, or south by Azingweh 
 and Jaunpore across the Ganges and Jumna into Bundel- 
 cund ? In other words, which should have priority in our 
 plans, the reconquest of Oudh or the restoration of law and 
 order in our old provinces of Rohilkund, the Doab and 
 Bundelcund ? It was more a matter of policy to be decided 
 by the Governor-General than a miUtary point for the 
 Commander-in-Chief's decision. Sir Colin Campbell was 
 in favour of the first plan, but very properly referred 
 the matter to Lord Canning. His decision was that the 
 
 334 
 
SIR COLIN CAMPBELL 
 
 complete re-establishment of our sovereignty in Oudh 
 should have precedence over aU other proposed schemes at 
 that moment. He gave his reasons for thinking so, and I 
 think they were unanswerable. A rival power to ours had 
 been set up in Oudh, and at the moment every eye in India 
 was fixed upon that kingdom. Our proceedings there had 
 consequently become more important in native opinion than 
 any measure we might adopt for the re-establishment of law 
 and order in our older districts. 
 
 With that loyalty to those in authority over him which 
 was one of Colin Campbell's strong characteristics, he at 
 once accepted Lord Canning's decision without demur, and 
 threw himself heart and soul into the operations necessary 
 to give it effect. 
 
 On February 27, 1858, Sir Colin Campbell rode into the 
 Alima Bagh Camp to have an interview with Sir James 
 Outram. He had just encamped within a few miles from 
 us, with what was for India in those days a big regular army 
 of over 3,000 sabres and nearly 12,500 bayonets, and with 
 a large number of heavy guns and several batteries of horse 
 and field artillery. Jung Bahadoor's and Brigadier General 
 Frank's column were daUy expected, and upon their arrival 
 it was hoped we should have an army with a total strength 
 of about 30,000 men and 164 guns of aU sorts available for 
 the capture of Lucknow, 
 
 For Sir Colin every man of our army in Oudh had a good 
 word to say. Every inch a soldier, he had a sincere sym- 
 pathy with all men who worked hard under him, The 
 bravest of men, he hked brave soldiers, and they knew that 
 he did so. AU ranks were proud to serve under him, 
 though men not bom north of the Tweed felt they were 
 somewhat handicapped when he estimated the respective 
 
 335 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 merits of the troops under his command. He was essen- 
 tially a man of strong prejudices, fond of having the well 
 bom round him, but having little belief in those who had 
 not had, like himself, considerable Indian experience. He 
 seemed, as far as I could judge, to be somewhat prejudiced 
 against those who had served on the staff in the Crimea. 
 Colonel Pakenham, afterwards Lord Longford, had there 
 proved himself to be a very able staff officer, but had never 
 served before in India. Colonel WetheraU was certainly 
 one of our very best and most rising officers in the Crimea, 
 where all who knew him well trusted and thought highly of 
 him. But he too had never served in India. Lord Clyde 
 employed both of these colonels when they arrived 
 in Calcutta, both being, I believe, strongly recommended 
 to him by H.R.H. the Duke of Cambridge, but he did not 
 make that use of them as, according to my estimate of 
 their military value, they deserved and were entitled to 
 expect. 
 
 General Sir WUliam Mansfield, his chief of the staff, was 
 possessed of a rare abOity that would have placed him high 
 in any non-military walk of life. His was a cold, calculating 
 and logical brain of rare quality, and he was doubtless 
 of much use to his master. The minutes in which'he 
 conveyed that master's instructions to his generals in 
 the field are fine samples of clearness and perspicuity. 
 But I think I may say that no one liked him, indeed 
 many averred not even Lord Clyde. Numbers hated 
 him as supercilious and inclined to presume upon the 
 acknowledged fact of his great general ability. He was 
 so short-sighted that he was of but little use in the field 
 as a leader. Personally, I knew him but slightly, but the 
 little I )had to do with him impressed me much against him. 
 
 336 
 
STRENGTH OF THE ENEMY 
 
 The task before Sir Colin in the winter of 1858-g — diffi- 
 cult in many respects — ^was rendered particularly so from 
 the fact that fully ten battaHons of British infantry, one of 
 British cavalry, much of the Bengal artillery, and many of 
 the Punjaub regiments had already become very weak in 
 numbers and were fairly worn out by long marches and 
 constant fighting since the Mutiny had burst upon us. 
 England had sent India all the battalions she could spare 
 from home and from her foreign possessions. She had few 
 more to give, and we had not then had a Mr. CardweU to 
 provide us with an Army Reserve such as that which recently 
 enabled us, after several long campaigns, to bring the Boer 
 War to an end. 
 
 Whilst Sir James Outram occupied the Alum Bagh 
 position between the Relief of Lucknow in November, 
 1857, ^T^^ the return of Sir Colin Campbell in the beginning 
 of March, 1858, the enemy had almost encircled Lucknow 
 with a double line of substantial works, of which the 
 Kaiser Bagh Palace was the citadel. It was said by those 
 esteemed the wisest in all such calculations, that its de- 
 fending army consisted of some 30,000 of our own disloyal 
 Sepoys, and of at least 60,000 Oudh men besides, who had 
 been accustomed from boyhood to carry arms.^ Those 
 hostile forces were amply supphed with guns, and the 
 followers of the Prophet and the believers in Vishnu now 
 joined cordially in what I may call a great effort to free 
 Hindostan for ever of the unclean EngUsh who had ruled 
 them for just a century. 
 
 The first move in our new game was necessarily the 
 capture and final occupation of Lucknow. The plan for 
 
 1 Many estimated the enemy opposed to us at a much higher 
 figure. 
 
 VOL. I. 337 z 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 what is commonly known as the " Seige of Lucknow " was 
 ably conceived. Its principal feature was, that a consider- 
 able force should be thrown across the Goomtee River below 
 the city and take up a position to enable its guns to enfilade 
 and take in reverse the enemy's lately constructed works. 
 Both General Havelock and Sir Colin Campbell had forced 
 their way into Lucknow from the east, and the enemy had 
 consequently assumed that our next attack would be deli- 
 vered from the same direction. It was not therefore ex- 
 pected that we should find any large fortifications on the 
 north bank of the Goomtee. 
 
 As Jung Bahadur had promised, he sent a Nepaulese 
 division to co-operate in the taking of Lucknow. It num- 
 bered about 9,000 men, which brought up the force em- 
 ployed to the expected total of nearly 30,000, of which about 
 3,000 were cavalry, British and Native, and 10,000 were 
 British infantry. 
 
 Almost all the British battahons in Sir CoHn's army had 
 recently arrived from home, and their smart clothing con- 
 trasted forcibly with the many-coloured " rags " of the 
 troops in Outram's division of veterans. 
 
 It soon became bruited abroad that in the organization 
 of the new army the 90th Light Infantry was no longer to 
 be in Sir James Outram's division. This was sad news for 
 all of us, for in his skill we trusted implicitly, and to him 
 all ranks were personally and sincerely attached. We had 
 at the time good reason to believe that he asked to have 
 our battalion in his division, a fact which pleased us much, 
 but it was not to be. The common " camp-shave " at the 
 moment was, that Sir Colin was for some reason or other 
 jealous of Outram and of his popularity with aU those under 
 him. But if this were so. Sir Colin certainly did not show 
 
 338 
 
THE KAISER BAGH 
 
 it in his dispositions for the capture of Lucknow, as he gave 
 Outram command of the strong force he pushed across the 
 Goomtee to attack the city from the north, the most 
 important factor in his plan of operations. But if thus 
 disappointed, all ranks of the Transit's three com- 
 panies rejoiced to find themselves once more in Adrian 
 Hope's Brigade. The other battalions in the brigade were 
 the " Black Watch," the 93rd Highlanders, and a Punjaub 
 regiment. 
 
 I shall make no attempt to describe the movements that 
 ended in the capture of Lucknow by Sir Colin Campbell. 
 The plan of operations bespoke a master's hand, and that 
 plan was admirably carried out by his subordinate com- 
 manders. I content myself with a reference to the force 
 I belonged to. 
 
 We started in the evening of March 7, 1858, for the DH 
 Khoosha Palace, where we halted the following day. The 
 day after, March 9, we occupied the Martiniere, the enemy 
 offering very little resistance, although they had erected a 
 considerable amoimt of field works about it. By March 14 
 I may say Lucknow was in our possei'sion without any very 
 serious fighting. My battalion had marched into the 
 Kaiser Bagh, a very fine palace with beautiful gardens. 
 There, in front of the main building, was a canal with 
 marble sides and a very handsomely carved marble bridge 
 over it. The imposing and beautiful marble throne which 
 is now in the King's garden at Windsor Castle stood near 
 it. The effect was good, and the first view of the palace 
 impressed me much with its lavish Eastern magnificence. 
 There was a great deal of loot about, but throughout my 
 soldiering career I have never been a looter. Not from any 
 squeamish notions as to the iniquity of the game, for I 
 
 339 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 believe that, as a rule, to the victor should belong the 
 spoils of war, but in the interests of order and of disciphne. 
 It is destruction to all that is best in the mihtary training 
 of the British Army for the officer to piUage alongside the 
 private and possibly to dispute with him for the ownership 
 of some valuable prize. But I know that others were 
 richer by many pearls and much jewellery when they 
 quitted than when they entered the Kaiser Bagh. I se- 
 lected a nice open colonnade as my company's quarters for 
 the coming night. Several doors opened into it, but they 
 were locked. One door was soon kicked open — what is it 
 that the " ammunition boot " will not kick open ? The 
 room inside was small and contained numerous chests. 
 Some contained nothing but buckskin breeches, others 
 top-boots, and some Highland and other British uniforms, 
 all being old-fashioned in shape but evidently unused. We 
 also found a photograph of the King of Oudh taken in a 
 kUt and a Highland feather bonnet. It was curious, but 
 not pretty. The fighting seemed over, so I stroUed into an 
 adjoining square where the headquarters of most of our 
 companies were. One officer had a pile of Cashmere shawls, 
 of which he gave me my choice of one to sleep on for the 
 night. I took it back and laid it carefuUy on the ground 
 in the colonnade where I rejoined my men. We managed 
 to cook some food, but long before we could digest it the 
 enemy made a faint-hearted attack upon us " all along the 
 line." I had to go into a smaU mosque with taU minarets 
 near at hand, whence we inflicted some loss upon the enemy. 
 When everything quietened down again I returned to my 
 colonnade, but my shawl was gone ! Some one passing by, 
 regarding it as a derehct, had " jumped it " — that is the 
 looter's mild technical synon5an for the ugly sounding 
 
 340 
 
NUNC FORTUNATUS SUM 
 
 word " stole " ! And so I lost my one piece of loot , and that 
 had been given to me. 
 
 I have no hesitation in saying that the loot secured by 
 the rank and file of our army in Lucknow at that time was 
 very injurious to its military efficiency and affected its 
 discipUne for a considerable time afterwards. 
 yK clever man in imitation of Caesar's " Vent, vidi, vici" 
 had described Sir Charles Napier's conquest of Scind in 
 the one word " Peccavi." It was superior in wit to the 
 Roman's alliterative description of his success, as Napier 
 was commonly supposed to have sinned much in his attack 
 upon the Ameers and by his annexation of their province. 
 A witty friend of mine, Major the Hon. James Dormer, 
 who was A.D.C. to Sir CoHn Campbell, wrote as if from 
 his general to describe his capture of Lucknow, " Nunc 
 fortunatus sum." ' If not as elegant as Caesar's three 
 words, nor as witty as Napier's supposed despatch, it 
 passed muster in our camp, and amused many at a time 
 when even a small joke was thankfully received. 
 
 " I am in luck-now." 
 
 341 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 On the Staff of the Oudh Division, 1858 
 
 WITHIN a few days of these events Sir Colin Campbell 
 selected me for staff employment, and appointed me 
 Quarter-Master-General to Major-General Sir Hope Grant, 
 who had just been given command of the Oudh division. 
 I was extremely glad, not only at being given a position on 
 the staff, but to be employed under so able and distin- 
 guished a general. Common report told me that he was 
 one of the generals in whom Sir Colin Campbell had the 
 most implicit confidence, and whom he had selected to com- 
 mand the Oudh division, then, I think, the most important 
 division in India. 
 
 Sir Hope Grant was then just fifty years of age : a tail 
 man of muscle and bone and no unnecessary flesh about 
 him. He had aU the best instincts of a soldier, and was a 
 brave daring man that no amount of work could tire. He 
 was a perfect horseman, who thoroughly understood the 
 animal he rode, and was understood by it. No heat 
 seemed to affect him, and long service in India had 
 taught him the character, ways and mode of thought 
 common to the Indian people. He was liked by every good 
 man who knew him, and all those with whom he was intimate 
 loved him. I never met a man with a higher sense of duty. 
 His manner was against him. He was often confused in 
 
 342 
 
SIR HOPE GRANT 
 
 his conversation, and always experienced some dif&cmiy 
 in putting his thoughts into words, or in describing clearly 
 what he wished you to do. He knew exactly himself what 
 it was he wanted done, but had not the knack of impart- 
 ing it clearly to others. 
 
 He very seldom used a field glass of any sort in action, 
 for his sight was very good, and he quickly and accurately 
 took in the enemy's position before the fight began. I 
 often heard him maintain that after troops had been de- 
 ployed for action the general in command could exercise 
 little or no further influence over the fortune of the day. 
 Once fully engaged himself in any battle, he interfered httle 
 in its further progress until the pursuit began. Being in 
 early life a first rate man with hounds, it was often a puzzle 
 to me that he should have so much difficulty in taking in, 
 either from a map or from personal inspection, the general 
 features of a country, the direction of its rivers, the lie of its 
 hills, etc. Like the great majority of those who were his 
 contemporaries in early life, he was imperfectly educated 
 upon aU subjects except that of music. That he thoroughly 
 understood, scientifically as well as practically. He played 
 delightfully upon the violoncello, and always told us laugh- 
 ingly that he owed to it his first chance in the Army. It 
 was thus : General Lord Saltoun, who had been appointed 
 to command a Brigade in our China war, of 1839-40, was a 
 good musician and played the fiddle well. Anxious, if 
 possible, to obtain the services of a Brigade Major who could 
 accompany him on the violoncello, he went to the Horse 
 Guards to ask if the authorities knew of any one who could 
 do so. He was at once told of Captain Hope Grant, of the 
 9th Lancers, who had recently published some of his own 
 compositions for that instrument. The Brigadier and his 
 
 343 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 Brigade Major fiddled together for months in the old sailing 
 frigate Belle Isle that took them to Chusan. 
 
 Except the Bible, which he knew thoroughly, he read few 
 books. He was one of the very best and most religious men 
 I ever knew. His religion was of the simplest kind, an im- 
 plicit trust in God, whom he knew to be his helper in all he 
 did. Honest, upright, truthful, fearless and good, he was 
 simple minded and absolutely chivalrous in all his thoughts 
 and deeds. Daring to a fault in all his military plans and 
 actions, he endeared himself to every one who knew him 
 weU. To be intimate with him was to love him, and to 
 his staff he was the most hospitable of generals, the best 
 and the kindest of friends. He possessed the military 
 intuition that made him a perfect commander of outposts, 
 and he handled cavalry with great quickness and judgment. 
 It was his own arm, and he never thoroughly understood 
 the handling of infantry in action. Good fortune followed 
 his footsteps, and the ^affair of Simree, which I describe 
 further on, was the only occasion I knew of where that fickle 
 wench played him false. 
 
 In aU the military history of our country I do not know 
 of a campaign that was better planned or more successfully 
 brought to a conclusion than that which he conducted in 
 China in i860. Comingjafter the great naval disaster at the 
 Pei-Ho Forts, and ending with the capture of Pekin, it 
 marked a great epoch in the history of our relations with 
 the East. It certainly did him great credit as a general. 
 
 Sir Hope's A.D.C., the Hon. Augustus Anson, was a 
 soldier after my own heart. A man of much ability and ot 
 great common sense, but badly educated. A daring though 
 an indifferent rider, he might have been a first class general 
 had he stuck to the Army and not taken to poUtics and 
 
 344 
 
AUGUSTUS ANSON 
 
 Parliament instead. No better, no braver gentleman ever 
 wore a red coat. He was a keen sportsman, and his energy 
 and determination were boundless. He possessed the great, 
 the rare gift of a natural aptitude for war. A general 
 favourite, Sir Hope Grant was sincerely attached to him, 
 and that feeling was fully returned by the A.D.C. for his 
 general. He had much influence with Sir Hope, and more 
 than once when he and I, putting our young heads to- 
 gether, thought that some particular plan should be adopted, 
 or certain movements made, he was able to induce Sir Hope 
 to see matters as we did. But Sir Hope was very difficult 
 to persuade, and without Augustus Anson's backing up I 
 should have failed entirely. It was long before I obtained 
 any influence with him, for he seemed to regard me as too 
 young to be wise, and most probably also thought me 
 bumptious and self-opiniated. What struck me as very odd 
 was, that although Sir Hope and his adjutant-general had 
 been for very many years in India, neither of them could 
 speak Hindostanee. Indeed, neither could say more than 
 a few words in it. But in those days the ofiicers in the 
 Queen's Army had practically no inducement to study the 
 native languages. The Indian Staff at that time was by 
 no means what it should have been. It had in it some ex- 
 tremely able soldiers, men like Sir Henry Norman, Sir 
 Peter Lumsden and others who would have risen to emi- 
 nence in any army. But as a rule, the staff I came to know 
 in the Bengal Presidency at the period I am writing about, 
 were too old and too old-fashioned in their ideas. They 
 were over-weighted with out-of-date regulations which 
 smacked more of the counting-house than of camps and 
 garrisons, and which tended to dwarf the initiative and 
 smother the natural intelligence of the of&cers for whose 
 
 345 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 guidance they were intended. Many of these regulations 
 were positively silly, and all seemed framed to control theft 
 in high places, which was apparently assumed by those who 
 framed them to be the instinct natural to all military 
 of&cers. To administer a British Army on those Unes might 
 be possible in time of peace, but the attempt to do so when 
 the whole native army of Bengal were in arms against us 
 was supremely siUy. 
 
 Sir Colin Campbell should have had those military regu- 
 lations pubUcly burnt by the Provost-Marshal. As an ex- 
 ample I may explain to my readers that to draw my 
 monthly pay, the application had to be in triplicate, accom- 
 panied by a certificate from certain named authorities that I 
 was alive upon the dates I claimed it for. The fact that I 
 was certified, say by a bishop, to be alive in June, was not 
 held to be sufficient evidence that I had been so also in the 
 previous month of May : a separate certificate was required 
 for that fact as weU. What an amusing article might be 
 written upon those military regulations and upon those who 
 framed them ! 
 
 I was stiU only a captain, but had been promised as a 
 reward for my Crimean services that I should be promoted 
 to the rank of major as soon as I had been six years in the 
 army. That was, and stiU is, the minimum length of ser- 
 vice required before any captain can obtain a majority. I 
 had completed that period of service the previous month, 
 and expected to see my name in the next Gazette we re- 
 ceived from home. My great drawback at the moment 
 was a want of Indian experience and my ignorance of the 
 Hindostanee language. However, I knew that time and 
 earnest work would soon correct both those shortcomings. 
 When I reported myself to Sir Hope Grant, I could see that 
 
 346 
 
MY YOUTH WAS AGAINST ME 
 
 he looked upon me as a mere boy, accustomed as he was 
 from long residence in India to old lieutenants, ancient 
 captains and fossilized staff of&cers. His adjutant-general 
 was an old gentleman from the ranks who had been his 
 adjutant for several years. Sir Hope believed him to be a 
 first rate man ; I did not. He had many good qualities, 
 but of staff work in the field he did not know the first 
 principles. 
 
 34/ 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 The Re-Conquest of Oudh, 1858-9 
 
 THE conquest of Oudh, after the final capture of Luck- 
 now, entailed a vast amount of marching, fighting and 
 skirmishing through its plains, and the crossing of many 
 rivers, of which the Gogra at Fyzabad was over 1,000 yards 
 in width. We had at times several small columns operating 
 in different parts of the kingdom, but except during the 
 time that Lord Clyde took part in its subjugation, the 
 largest and in every way the most important column was 
 that under the immediate command of Sir Hope Grant. 
 During these marches, which extended over a period of 
 many months, the usual routine was as follows. The first 
 bugle went at 2 a.m. : I dressed and had a cup of tea and 
 ate a biscuit, and was in the saddle at 2.30 a.m. I then 
 rode slowly — with a native guide by my side — to the 
 point I had selected the previous evening for the advanced 
 guard to form upon. The several battalions of foot, bat- 
 teries of artillery and regiments of cavalry then fell into then- 
 allotted positions in the main column along the road or 
 track I had recormoitred for a short distance the day before. 
 AU was usually ready for the march by 3 a.m., when we 
 started. If not near an enemy, the bands struck up, and 
 for the first two hours we made good play in the required 
 direction. The sun rose in the months of March and April 
 
 348 
 
ON THE MARCH IN OUDH 
 
 about 4.30, and when the moon was at all big it gave us 
 that clear, bright light which she only condescends to afford 
 man in the tropics. In looking over some old home letters 
 I find that when marching beyond the river Gogra in April, 
 1859, I mention that when the sun had risen above the 
 horizon, upon more than one occasion the moon, a planet, 
 and some great stars combined with it to brighten all objects 
 in the surrounding landscape. My old Irish nurse, the best 
 and most genial of very good women, who died when over 
 eighty in my mother's house, used to tell me when a boy 
 that I had only to " wish " for anything I desired upon 
 seeing such an auspicious conjunction of luminaries, to be 
 assured of having it accomplished. I always did so wish 
 upon those rare occasions, but I cannot in any instance 
 record the fulfilment of the wish I thought of. 
 
 Our ordinary marches were generally of ten miles only, 
 as the sun became extremely unpleasant by 8 a.m. 
 
 The length of our daily column of march extended over 
 several miles. Crowds of doolies for the sick and wounded, 
 some thousands of camels carrying tents, the men's packs, 
 their bedding, ammunition, spare horses, crowds of syces, 
 many of them on ponies, a large hospital establishment of 
 doctors, apothecaries and servants to look after the sick. 
 I forget what camels the regimental officers had, but I know 
 that I usually had five or six. The officers paid for their own 
 camels. Then the Commissariat required a vast amount of 
 hackeries — native carts — each drawn by two bullocks to 
 carry provisions, and a baker's establishment, for we had 
 fresh bread every day. In any other country where I have 
 campaigned any such amount of impedimenta would have 
 rendered aU movements impossible. The number of our 
 servants were preposterous ; for each of my horses I had 
 
 349 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 two men, one a groom the other a grass cutter. What a 
 chance for an enemy Uke that opposed to us, who Uved upon 
 the country and required no transport ! If there had been 
 a thousand of good mounted infantry under a real good 
 leader opposed to us in Oudh at this time it would have 
 altered the whole character of the war. We could not 
 possibly have marched in the formation we did. We should 
 have had to march the cavalry and artillery across country, 
 leaving what we called the road for the native hackeries. 
 Never did any regular army have to contend with a more 
 unenterprising enemy than we had then. It was a bad 
 school in that respect for young of&cers anxious to learn 
 their work. The feeling that we could thus march about 
 with impunity wherever we wished tended to make us 
 careless in scouting and in aU the precautionary measures 
 usually taken to protect an army against surprise when on 
 the march. 
 
 Our campaign in the Baiswarra district began in the 
 hottest part of the hot season, when the sun's angry 
 and aggressive heat seems not only to scorch the head, 
 but to muddle and make chaos of the brain within it. It 
 was very trying to every one who took part in it, but to the 
 British Foot Soldier it was an awful experience. How my 
 heart bled for him as I saw him trudge along, mile after 
 mile, through dense clouds of dust over a parched and 
 bumt-up country. What an uncomplaining fellow he is ! 
 In all my campaigning recollections he stands out as that 
 which I am proudest of, and as the character in the great 
 play of my soldier-career that I admire most. Those 
 allotted more prominent parts in the drama of miUtary life 
 are better known to the outside world, and are consequently 
 more talked of. But in my heart I feel that aU the King's 
 
 350 
 
THE PROVINCE OF OUDH 
 
 subjects owe most to our Infantry Rank and File who for the 
 last two centuries have marched through the Low Countries, 
 France, Spain, and Portugal, or who shared in the trench 
 work before Sebastopol and in the privations to which the 
 winter of 1854-5 exposed them, or who have marched from 
 the north to the south of India to fight our battles for us. 
 If ever I became rich, I would erect a splendid monument 
 to the memory of the private soldiers who in their thousands 
 have fought round the world to make England the great 
 Empire she is now. 
 
 Oudh is a level rich and well cultivated province. Its 
 villages are all built of sun-burnt brick, and are conse- 
 quently of an ugly khaki colour, their walls being well 
 scored by the heavy rains they are exposed to every wet 
 season. Their doors, and the shutters which close the 
 openings where we should have windows, are of the roughest 
 carpentry. But in all the native houses of these upper 
 provinces, the royal palaces excepted, the woodwork is as 
 if hewn with an adze rather than as if cut with a saw or 
 smoothed by a plane. Their roofs are invariably flat, upon 
 which, at sunset every evening, the women and children 
 assemble in order, as their native idiom describes it, " to 
 drink the air." There are a few tamarind and mango 
 trees usually about these villages and detached houses, 
 many of the latter being enclosed by high kutcha-built 
 walls. In the mango groves — topes, as they are called in 
 the vernacular — there is usually a good well, constructed of 
 burnt brick, whose water is reserved for drinking purposes, 
 whilst from others of larger size water is drawn by bullocks 
 to irrigate the neighbouring gardens and surrounding fields. 
 In some parts of Oudh there are cocoa-nut trees, but they 
 are not numerous. The villages remind one much of those 
 
 351 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 to be seen all over Eg5^t. I was daily brought in contact 
 with their well-to-do, as also with their poorest, inhabitants 
 in my inquiries about roads, the depth of rivers and streams 
 to be crossed, the whereabouts of the enemy, and the com- 
 mon news of the locality, etc. In dealing with every class 
 one had never to forget that all are liars by nature and 
 habit, and, from suspicion as to the object of your questions, 
 they endeavour to mislead, and show much ingenuity in 
 the construction of their untruthful answers. Some villages 
 were loop-holed, and the large proprietors usually lived in 
 forts with deep ditches and hidden all round by some 
 hundred yards of close jungle. 
 
 The mass of the people are Hindoos, including the 
 great landlords, or zameendars and talookdars, as they are 
 locally called. The traveller in Oudh sees here and there 
 a mosque, but the gracefully shaped Hindoo temple is ten 
 times more numerous. Scattered throughout the province 
 there are many very fine tanks. Most are surrounded 
 with tall handsome trees, and at each there is usually 
 either a Hindoo temple or a Mohammedan shrine, according 
 to the religion of the charitable person at whose cost the 
 tank was made. In many instances the surrounding groves 
 are enlivened by numbers of monkeys or baboons. They 
 chatter without ceasing as long as it is daylight, and are 
 interesting creatures to study. Upon many occasions I 
 have camped or bivouacked in the shelter of these groves, 
 and have at times been highly amused and almost fascinated 
 by their cunning but solemnly performed antics. They are 
 so very human in many of their ways. They even steal 
 from one another, and their females, who quarrel and jabber 
 incessantly, seem fuU of feminine jealousy. Yet these 
 monkeys never express by laughter the fun they are evi- 
 
 352 
 
THE LUCKNOW MOULVEE 
 
 dently full of. It would seem to be the one characteristic 
 that distinguishes man from aU the beasts that perish. 
 
 After many a long dusty march, when camped near such 
 a tank, I have thrown my hot, weary body into its cool 
 water. I remember one evening, in the very hot sesison, 
 Augustus Anson and I rode to one of these taiiks that was 
 near where the army had encamped. Whilst roUing about 
 in its refreshing waters, a yeUow snake put his head up over 
 the surface close to my face and shook his tongue at me as 
 he did so. Having, more than most men, a loathing horror 
 and indescribable repugnance to all sorts of reptiles, and to 
 snakes in particular, I felt almost paralyzed with a sort of 
 terror, and struck out for the stepped side of the tank ks 
 fast as if I were pursued by a whole zoological garden full 
 of hostile and man-devouring beasts and reptiles. My 
 sense told me, from the shape of the snake's head, that it 
 was harmless, as most water-snakes are, but this knowledge 
 brought me no immediate satisfaction ; it was, I think, the 
 dread lest my body should come in contact with it that 
 terrified me. I have never been able to get over this horror 
 of reptiles, and stUl fly even from the harmless toad. 
 
 At the beginning of April, 1858, the celebrated 
 Moiilvee had collected a force of about 6,000 foot 
 and 1,000 horse — all fanatical Mohammedans — at Baree, 
 a village on the Seetapore road, some twenty-nine nules 
 NNW. of Lucknow. He was an active, clever fellow, 
 with a great reputation for sanctity, and bore us an old 
 grudge for having placed him in irons previous to the Mutiny. 
 This we had done because he openly preached resistance 
 to our rule. Every day that his holiness was left unmolested 
 he grew more important in native estimation. 
 
 Until Sir Hope could make the Oudh people reahze that 
 
 VOL. I. 353 A A 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 he meant to take the field whenever it was thought necessary 
 to do so, no matter how hot the weather might be, the idea 
 would prevail amongst them that European soldiers could 
 not march during the summer season. What hundreds of 
 lives would have been saved could we have mounted our 
 men on camels, donkeys, or ponies ! This supposed immunity 
 from attack brought daUy reinforcements to the Moulvee's 
 camp, until at last it was deemed necessary to teach him a 
 lesson. With that object in view, Sir Hope Grant started 
 from the Lucknow Cantonments on April ir, 1858, We 
 all felt that the heat was the worst enemy we should have 
 to encounter. It made my heart sick to see our soldiers 
 tumble about on the march from heat apoplexy. In all 
 those hot weather marches, and we had many of them then, 
 our British infantry had to tramp along rough country 
 cart-tracks from which rose dense clouds of dust that hung 
 about and enveloped us. No breath of wind came, either 
 to drive the dust away or to afford the soldiers any relief. 
 
 The column employed on this occasion consisted of a 
 brigade of British foot, a battalion of Sikhs, a brigade of 
 cavalry composed of the 7th Hussars, a squadron of the 
 Queen's Bays, some troops of Wales' Horse, of Hodson's 
 Horse, and a battery of horse artillery ; there were also 
 two field batteries and some heavy guns with the column. 
 In the fight with this Moulvee, which came off during the 
 third day's march, our loss from sword and bullet was 
 insignificant, but the sun kOled many and incapacitated a 
 stOl larger number. The enemy fought with much pluck 
 under their holy leader, but our attack, well planned and 
 admirably carried out, was too much for them. Indeed, 
 the whole affair in many respects resembled a successful 
 field day. 
 
 354 
 
CHARGED BY ENEMY'S CAVALRY 
 
 We had started an hour before daybreak, and, as usual, 
 I had marched with the advanced party of the advanced 
 guard, having some guides to show the way alongside my 
 horse. 
 
 Just as the first gleam of day showed itself on our 
 eastern horizon, and whUst it was stiU dark, I saw to my 
 surprise, about 400 yards in front, a body of horsemen 
 drawn up across the path we were advancing by. I gal- 
 loped back to bring up the cavalry of the advanced guard, 
 thinking the enemy would bolt, as they usually did upon 
 the approach of the British dragoon, I was jogging forward 
 at a trot with this cavalry detachment when, to my intense 
 astonishment, the enemy came on at a good pace and 
 charged us. Our two horse artillery guns with the ad- 
 vanced guard had just time to unlimber, load, and meet 
 them with a round of canister. The enemy came upon us 
 so quickly and so pluckily that I was obliged to draw my 
 sword, an unusual necessity with a staff officer. When 
 they had come near enough to take in the position, they 
 swerved from our front, and went helter skelter into a 
 squadron of Wales' Horse that had formed up on the other 
 side of the guns. I did my best to persuade the officer 
 commanding the squadron of the 7th to charge, but he 
 did not think it advisable to leave the guns unprotected. 
 I thought he was wrong, as the opportunity was good, and 
 the moment seemed ticklish. Wales' Horse, by no means 
 a brilliant lot in any way upon any occasion, were now in 
 confusion, although they stood the charge and met the 
 enemy hand to hand. I did not, however, rehsh standing 
 by doing nothing when separated only by the two horse 
 artillery gtms from the melee going on within a few yards 
 of us. The enemy, thinking it was time to be off, made 
 
 355 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 for our dhoolies, already tolerably fuU of sun-stricken men. 
 As soon as we had deployed, an advance was made upon 
 the position taken up by the enemy's infantry and guns. 
 Their horse made several charges upon the flanks of our 
 infantry. A squadron of the 7th Hussars charged them, 
 both sides met at full tUt, and we lost several men. At 
 the moment I was engaged in posting two companies of the 
 Bengal Fusiliers to protect the flank where our baggage 
 was being collected. The fusiliers stood well, and received 
 them with a well delivered volley that emptied many 
 saddles. The enemy had charged well home ; indeed, one of 
 their sowars was killed amongst our dhoolies. The whole 
 affair was creditable to Sir Hope Grant and to his com- 
 manding officers, and I find it noted in a letter I wrote home 
 that same day that it was the first occasion upon which I 
 had seen the enemy face us bravely in the open. I 
 believe it was because of the Moulvee's presence, as his 
 followers had absolute faith in that holy man's invin- 
 cibihty. 
 
 Having broken up the Moulvee's force and so destroyed 
 his claim to invincibility, Sir Hope Grant was ordered to 
 Poorwa, a village of some importance about thirty miles 
 south of Lucknow, to protect the Cawnpore road, then 
 threatened by Beni Madhoo. There we were joined by the 
 Sikh Rajah of Kuppertola in the Punjaub, and it was deter- 
 mined to transfer this duty to him. When he paid Sir Hope 
 his formal visit of ceremony, a salute was fired in his honour. 
 He was not prepared for this comphment, and his fat figure 
 bounded off his chair when the first gun was fired, for he 
 thought we were attacked. When the matter was ex- 
 plained, he was much gratified, for all native princes attach 
 much importance to such honours. 
 
 356 
 
THIEF CATCHING IN INDIA 
 
 This rajah was a nice young fellow and sincerely anxious 
 to serve the State. He spoke and wrote English well, was 
 very rich and much bejewelled when he paid his visit. Some 
 months afterwards, when we were suffering much in camp 
 from professional thieves, he quite calmly and seriously 
 advised Sir Hope, the most humane of men, to adopt the 
 method by which he said his father had rid his camp of 
 these pests many years before. The father succeeded, he 
 said, after much difficulty in catching in a trap set for the 
 purpose one of these thieves who had followed his camp 
 for weeks and had stolen heavily from it. He had him 
 profusely anointed with sulphur and brimstone, and then set 
 fire to him, every one in camp being obHged to watch the 
 burning operation. He said, with a curious grunt of satis- 
 faction, that they were never annoyed by thieves after 
 that. 
 
 When the hot weather with its burning winds had set in, 
 Sir Hope Grant found it necessary to restrict his military 
 expeditions from Lucknow. No British infantry could 
 march through Oudh in such heat without great loss from 
 sunstroke and heat apoplexy. But we had a Chief Com- 
 missioner living in a very comfortable house, whose head 
 was never exposed to the piercing sun, whilst every luxury 
 that a great salary could provide helped to keep his quarters 
 cool and his body in good health. But not so the British 
 foot soldier. His life was a very hard one at this time, 
 and this Chief Commissioner would have had Sir Hope Grant 
 make it harder. Long service in India had taught Sir 
 Hope to dread the power of the highly placed civilian 
 administrator to ruin any general's reputation. But he 
 was not a man to be induced by any such personal considera- 
 tion to unduly expose his soldiers during the hot months. 
 
 357 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 The result was, frequent complaints were made to Govern- 
 ment that Sir Hope would not undertake military expeditions 
 which the Chief Commissioner deemed necessary. What 
 did it matter to him if soldiers died of heat apoplexy during 
 these marches ! Somewhat sore because he had not been 
 able to quickly restore peace in Oudh, he now strove, with 
 unmanly ingratitude for all the general had already done 
 for him, to throw the blame of that failure upon Sir Hope. 
 He accused of want of energy, and even of daring, one 
 who was the most ceaselessly energetic and enterprising 
 man I ever served with ! It was an abuse of the position 
 he occupied. But Lord Clyde, who knew Sir Hope Grant 
 of old, was not to be misled by this Commissioner's self- 
 interested complaints. Staunch to his convictions regarding 
 a well known comrade, he defended Sir Hope against the 
 fault-finding aspersions of the civHian clique in Lucknow, 
 who then had Lord Canning's ear. But how different it 
 might have been had the Commander-in-Chief known little 
 of Sir Hope Grant's character, and of his absolute indiffer- 
 ence to all personal comfort in the performance of his 
 military duties. 
 
 I was at this time busy in trjong to provide better accom- 
 modation for our soldiers at the several military stations 
 we had estabhshed in Oudh. The horrors of a hot season 
 under canvas on the baked fields of that province are terrible 
 to the soldier in a crowded tent. Nothing to do all day but 
 fan the flies from his face, as he hes on his rough native 
 charpoy, means a weary existence indeed. We had no books 
 for our men, and very few newspapers came their way. 
 Their life was horrible, and well might any man amongst 
 them wish he were within the cool clean precincts of a home 
 prison instead. If, my civilian friends, you knew the 
 
 358 
 
EFFECT OF HOT WEATHER UPON US 
 
 miseries our men endured uncomplainingly in the hot 
 weather of 1858 in Oudh, you would feel how much you owe 
 and how much you ought to esteem every old soldier you 
 meet who wears a Mutiny medal with a Lucknow ♦-clasp 
 to it. 
 
 We young soldiers, though new to India, were fully aware 
 of how completely the old order of things under the Indian 
 system of government, civil and military, had broken 
 down, and were consequently astonished to find the old 
 civiUan servants of the Company anxious to re-establish 
 ever5rwhere the pre-Mutiny system. 
 
 For the benefit of any military officers who may ever 
 find themselves in the position of Lord Clyde or of Sir Hope 
 Grant, at this juncture I would warn them against exposing 
 British soldiers to fatiguing and protracted military opera- 
 tions during the hot weather in a country like Oudh. When 
 that kingdom was won back by our soldiers in 1858, and 
 civil authority was once more fairly re-established under 
 the protection of their bayonets, commanding officers of 
 British troops were often called upon by inconsiderate 
 civilians to march their men in the hottest season of the year 
 for the purpose of punishing some Rajah or Nawab, who 
 would neither pay his taxes nor obey Government orders. 
 In such cases many will always be the reasons urged for 
 immediate compliance with such demands. Because our 
 commanders never spared themselves nor their men during 
 the great crisis we had recently passed through, the un- 
 thoughtful commissioner of a district was too prone to con- 
 clude that he ought never be refused the help of British 
 troops to enforce his decrees. No dread of how fatal the 
 Sim might prove to our soldiers when employed upon this 
 police work ever seemed to give the commissioner pause. 
 
 359 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 It is not easy for those who are unacquainted with the 
 East to fully appreciate what the march of an Indian army, 
 with its thousands of camp-foUowers, means to the inhabit- 
 ants of the country traversed. FoUow in the wake of such an 
 invasion, and you will find the effect upon the districts 
 passed through to be usually very Hke that caused by the 
 march of a huge column of locusts before they can fly, as 
 I have seen it in C3rprus. The walking locusts go forward 
 in the direction they have fixed upon, and turning neither 
 to the right nor to the left, eat up as they advance 
 every green leaf in their path, and leave an absolute desert 
 behind them. In many instances, such was very much the 
 result of our marches through the still unsettled districts 
 of Oudh at this period. 
 
 In some instances the friendly zameendar who had sought 
 our help must have repented him of the evU he had thereby 
 inflicted upon his country and its inhabitants. In many 
 of our tramps over the plains of Oudh, I thought of the 
 marches made further north by the armies of Alexander 
 and of Porus, and felt how much there must stiU be in 
 common between the scene before me and that looked upon 
 by every Greek soldier who followed the Macedonian mad- 
 man as he pressed forward towards the Jelum. The same 
 glitter from bright weapons, the same tramp of men, neighing 
 of horses, beating of drums and braying of trumpets ; the 
 similarly caparisoned elephants, the same grunting, over- 
 laden camels. In Hindostan, where native habits and 
 customs change httle with time, we are justified in assuming 
 that twenty-one centuries earlier the men whom the Greeks 
 met in the country of " The Five Rivers," were clothed in 
 garments very similar to those worn by our splendid Sikh 
 soldiers in 1858. 
 
 360 
 
MOUNTED INFANTRY 
 
 Alexander, however, most probably marched on a much 
 wider front than we did, in order to embrace a larger extent 
 of country from which, in passing, to draw supplies. His 
 army Uved entirely upon the inhabitants ; ours did so only 
 partially. 
 
 Whilst encamped at Newabgimj Bara Bunkee, at the end 
 of May, 1858, Sir Hope continued to receive letters from the 
 Chief Commissioner in Lucknow that would have alarmed 
 most men. But my general had become accustomed to this 
 cry of " wolf " from that quarter, and although they were 
 usually marked " Immediate " and filled with stories that 
 warned us of great rebel armies on the march to destroy us, 
 they were for the most part merely docketed and " put 
 away." If we had had a Commander of weak nerve and 
 who was gullible by nature, our troops woxild have been 
 harassed by frequent marches in the hottest season of the 
 year, and our loss from the sun would certainly have been 
 enormous. Indeed, there would have been but little left 
 of our British infantry by the end of 1859. 
 
 Here I must once more record my regret that it never 
 occurred to anyone at the time I now write about to make 
 use of mounted infantry. That lesson we were to learn four 
 years later from the War of Secession in the United States. 
 Armies are slow to adopt new ideas, for even as late as 1870 
 no use whatever was made of mounted infantry by either 
 France or Germany. 
 
 361 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 The Baiswarra Campaign, 1858 
 
 FROM the date of our fight at Baree until the end of the 
 month— April, 1858 — Sir Hope Grant was constantly on 
 the march. He destroyed many strong native forts, and by 
 starting very early each morning was enabled to finish 
 his ten miles before the sun had become dangerously hot. 
 But notwithstanding every precaution, we lost men daily 
 from heat apoplexy. 
 
 We found Jung Bahadoor's troops halted on the road to 
 Newabgunj, where it was intended we should remain for 
 the present. This Ghoorka force numbered about 8,000 
 fighting men with twenty guns. But 2,000 were sick, and 
 as he had 4,000 carts carrjdng supplies, and as each cart 
 required a man to guard it, only 2,000 men were left avail- 
 able for the day of battle. 
 
 After some fatiguing marches we were ordered back to 
 Lucknow, and thence to Poorwa. My own battalion now 
 joined our column, which I was very glad of, for I knew it 
 could always be depended upon to do whatever was required 
 of it. The total strength of our column was 4,500 fighting 
 men. 
 
 It was with great satisfaction that we shortly after- 
 wards marched to Doundea-Kera, a very strong native 
 fort on the Oudh side of the Ganges, and about thirty 
 
 362 
 
WE FIGHT AT SIMREE 
 
 miles below Cawnpore. There several of the poor fugi- 
 tives, men and women, who had escaped from that 
 city of slaughter, had been caught and murdered by 
 the monster who owned the place. Finding it deserted, 
 we took possession on May lo, 1858, exactly a year 
 from the day the Mutiny began. We destroyed it, but 
 regretted much we had not caught the miscreant Hindoo 
 owner, to have hung him on the spot where he hadonurdered 
 our countrypeople. 
 
 On May 12 we marched ten miles in a north-easterly direc- 
 tion to Nuggur, where I had hoped the general would halt, 
 as the dreadfully hot weather had already begun to tell 
 seriously upon our men. But shortly after we had pitched 
 camp, news came that the enemy had taken up a position 
 about six miles to the eastward of us, at a place called 
 Simree, and the general decided he would march upon them 
 at five o'clock that same afternoon. It was an unwise 
 decision, for no European infantry could march in such heat, 
 especially as the hot wind was then blowing hard, striking 
 the face as does the blast from a furnace which is suddenly 
 opened upon you. Sir Hope would hsten to no remonstrance, 
 so the march was ordered. A guard of 200 men with two 
 guns and a squadron of cavalry were left with the baggage, 
 stores, etc., etc., and it was intended we should bivouac 
 for the night wherever we should be after we had disposed 
 of the enemy. 
 
 Upon this occasion the infantry private was tried more 
 than I have ever seen him tried, and our losses from heat 
 apoplexy alone were accordingly very heavy. Our fight 
 that followed this awful march and its events are indelibly 
 burned into my memory. 
 
 This is the only operation Sir Hope Grant ever made 
 
 363 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 to my knowledge that I feel justified in finding fault 
 with. It was a terrible lesson to all of us. I know that he 
 was most anxious at the time in question to clear the dis- 
 trict of the rebels and to make them realize that not even 
 the hottest of hot weather could protect them from the 
 bayonet of the British soldier. But in war you may pur- 
 chase even the most desirable objects at too great a cost. 
 In this instance he and his troops had to pay dearly in 
 order to bring this fact home to the native mind. 
 
 Upon this occasion. May 12, 1858, tents were 
 struck and the column of route formed about 3 p.m. 
 A fiercely hot wind blew upon me clouds of burning 
 dust as I turned in the required direction. I felt 
 it hxira my skin, and I had some trouble with 
 heel and spur to make my Arab charger face it. 
 About a mile or two from camp, I came upon a 
 squadron of the 7th Hussars on outl5dng picket. Its 
 general appearance was appalling. Two of its three 
 officers lay helpless under trees with wet towels round 
 their heads, and the men in an exhausted condition 
 lay about in twos and threes under whatever shelter 
 they could fimd. I had a good hehnet with an unusually 
 long turban wound round it, yet the sun seemed to 
 gimlet a hole through it into my brain. My very hair 
 seemed to crackle from the burning heat, and the nails of 
 one's fingers became as if made of some brittle material 
 that must soon break. 
 
 I formed the column along the dust-laden cart track that 
 by courtesy and custom I styled a road when I spoke of it 
 in Hindostanee to the guide who accompanied me. I 
 wonder what he must have thought of it all ! In what 
 words did he describe to his friends afterwards the general 
 
 364 
 
HEAVY LOSSES FROM THE SUN 
 
 condition of the " Ghora Log " whom he saw with that 
 outl5Tng picquet upon the road ? 
 
 Before we were fairly formed up and had started, the 
 division had already suffered heavily in men disabled by 
 heat apoplexy, of which many subsequently died. 
 
 Sir Hope Grant had passed all his life in the cavalry, 
 and did not realize how much the foot soldier, laden with 
 rifle, bayonet, accoutrements and sixty rounds of baU 
 ammunition, suffers when marched in extreme heat. He 
 consequently adopted a formation to advance in which in 
 temperate zones, and when not exposed to any serious 
 artillery fire, is a very convenient one to deploy from into 
 line of battle. I mean a line of quarter cohimns at de- 
 ploying intervals. But in the great heat and dust of that 
 season of the year it was an extremely unwise formation. 
 His mind was apparently so full of the question from a 
 tactical point of view that having had httle experience 
 with infantry, he overlooked all other considerations. The 
 result was a most disastrous march, during which the men 
 in the centres of these quarter columns absolutely stifled 
 from want of air and the dense dust they inhaled, fell out by 
 dozens, whilst the enemy's cavalry, sweeping round our 
 flanks, fell upon our dhoolies, already filled with soldiers in 
 every phase of sunstroke. I regret to say the enemy's 
 sowars kUled many of them, decapitating several as they 
 lay in an unconscious state. When at last we got at the 
 enemy the usual process took place ; we charged and took 
 about a dozen of their guns. They seemed to know that 
 they could no more stand against our men, than our men 
 could stand the heat. We kept driving them before us, 
 not calculating that the sun was already near the horizon. 
 The cooler the day became the more we revived to our work, 
 
 365 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 and so went blundering forward, killing numbers, but forget' 
 ting that darkness was at hand. The sun went down, and 
 the general still pressed on until want of light stopped all 
 further advance. In that part of India it gets niore or less 
 suddenly dark without any special warning. But the usual 
 indications of approaching night were there, though we were 
 too busy, our minds too preoccupied, to notice them. There 
 was no moon to be seen, and consequently we soon found 
 ourselves in the unfortunate position of not knowing ex- 
 actly where we were, and of having but a vague notion of 
 where the several component parts of our division were to 
 be found. No one knew who was on his right or left. To 
 halt for the night when darkness thus suddenly overtook us 
 was consequently our sole resource. Of food we officers 
 had little, but the men had biscuit in their haversacks. 
 Happy the mounted officer who had a syce to hold his 
 horse whilst he lay down. I cannot say that the staff 
 had much sleep, but all were worn out, and on all sides the 
 snoring of exhausted men was to be heard. During the 
 night the enemy managed to carry off the guns we had 
 taken from him, so we thus lost the only trophies of the 
 success we had achieved under the greatest difficulties 
 that an Indian hot weather can oppose to military oper- 
 ations. I must confess that every one had a really bad 
 night of it, but I feel convinced that our leader. Sir Hope, 
 must have felt it the most from having realized that he had 
 made a mistake, and his staff, who were sincerely attached 
 to him, loyally felt for him accordingly. 
 
 In the course of my campaigning I have experienced 
 some trying false alarms by night. Under aH circum- 
 stances they are usually terrible affairs, never to be for- 
 gotten. For a moment they appear to rob of their senses 
 
 366 
 
A NIGHT ALARM 
 
 even men of the stoutest heart and of the calmest intellect. 
 Yet, even then, the steadying voice of one cool man will 
 often restore reason to those about him. But that " cool 
 man " is not always at hand when most required. Dark- 
 ness magnifies the supposed dangers which a heated brain 
 is apt to conjure up upon any sudden " alarm " at night, 
 and it often paralyses the reasoning power during the noise 
 and fury which foUow. For the instant, manj' are absolute 
 lunatics and wholly irresponsible for what they do or say. 
 To me it has always been literally terrif}dng to see brave 
 soldiers not only thus bereft of reason, but often for the 
 moment of all courage also. We are prone to pooh-pooh 
 the phlegmatic man as slow and dull, but at such moments 
 of terror we feel that God has not made him in vain. 
 
 Having a great horror of night alarms, of which I had had 
 some previous experience, I induced Sir Hope to take up 
 a position for himself and staff to await daybreak between 
 the guns of a field battery that was near us when darkness 
 set in. It is a secure place in the event of any untoward 
 affair at night, for no one can run or ride over you. The 
 gun-teams remained hooked to all night, so the tired drivers 
 had a bad time until day broke the following morning. 
 
 I lay beside my chief, and was soon in the land of forget- 
 fulness. I cannot remember at what hour it was that I 
 was roused by a fiendish uproar as if all the devils in hell 
 had been let loose. Every one seemed to be engaged in 
 shouting on his own account as I awoke ; the tramp of 
 riderless horses galloping to and fro added much to the 
 confusion ; some shots were fired, and several comrades 
 fought in deadly strife one with another, each under the 
 belief that he was attacked by a mutineer. The of&cer 
 commanding the battery between whose guns we had been 
 
 367 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 sleeping, a fat, prosy, stupid little man, was, according to 
 the account he subsequently gave of the affair, attacked 
 and knocked down. As he fell, it was said that seeing 
 something suddenly rise between himself and the sky 
 which he took for his enemy, he fired his revolver and put 
 a bullet through the supposed mutineer. But unfortu- 
 nately, it was not an enemy, but his own foot he had fired 
 at, and it was through it the buUet went. For many years 
 afterwards no one dared to talk in his presence of this 
 unfortunate battle, and it was too serious a subject ever to 
 allude to his womided foot. 
 
 In a battaHon close to us, the officer commanding cut 
 down one of his own officers thinking he was a sepoy making 
 for him. I do not remember what our loss in the action 
 had been, nor how many were killed or injured in this 
 appalling false alarm : but taking it all in all, the whole 
 business was the most unfortunate affair I was ever engaged 
 in. Although he never talked of it to me, I am convinced 
 that Sir Hope felt it deeply, and was fuUy aware of how 
 great, how fatal was his error in undertaking such a march 
 in the hottest time of the day at that very dangerous period 
 of the summer. 
 
 A senseless panic at times seizes upon even the bravest 
 soldiers ; I know not why, but it rarely spreads to the 
 commissioned officer. He is better bred and better edu- 
 cated, and, accustomed to think for others, he acts less upon 
 impulse and more upon reason than the private. Taught 
 the habit of command and trained to lead others, he is far 
 less liable to this sudden heart-sinking than the brave 
 fellows who foUow him. 
 
 When under the influence of panic, men for the moment 
 are mad, and act without reason. Whilst the fit lasts, 
 
 368 
 
SENSELESS PANIC 
 
 they axe^capable of the most idiotic actions, and often be- 
 come dead to all sense of self-respect and of discipline ; in 
 fact, they cease to behave like responsible beings. Nothing 
 but some violent shock, as with the somnambulist, or some 
 chance and often trifling occurrence brings them back to 
 the grave realities of their position. This can only be fully 
 realized by those who have witnessed a false alarm on a 
 dark night with an army in the field, and who have felt the 
 shock of panic which it sometimes occasions in a mass of 
 even the bravest men suddenly roused from sleep by some 
 imtoward accident, some unusual event. The extent to 
 which stalwart soldiers may become a terrified mob in the 
 twinkling of an eye is amazing. The surromiding darkness, 
 and the suddenness with which they are awakened, the shouts 
 and still worse, the clang of arms, all add to their causeless 
 fright. Men so bewildered often bayonet one another ; I 
 have known even of&cers to cut down their comrades in the 
 first burst of wild alarm, and when once any such sort of 
 surprise degenerates into fighting, a regular stampede often 
 follows. 
 
 The man of any rank who on such an occasion keeps his 
 head and at once takes in the position is for the moment 
 invaluable ; he is a true king of men. In the midst 
 of deafening noise and turmoil, if he be cool, his cool- 
 ness soon reduces the high temperature of those around 
 him, for as panic is infectious, so is stoHd, angered coolness 
 also. See such a man spring nobly to the front. Although 
 perhaps not the senior officer on the spot, all instinctively 
 recognize and obey him as their leader when in tones of 
 angry authority he shouts his orders in a way that com- 
 mands instant obedience. He soon brings all those near 
 him to their rational senses ; and as widening circles extend 
 
 VOL. I. 369 B B 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 round the spot where a stone falls into the pool, so reason, 
 with collected courage spreads round him m a rapidly 
 widening circumference. Personal danger, great though 
 it may be, is at once forgotten by all near him, for his over- 
 powering individuality is soon felt and quickly leavens the 
 perturbed mass, until reasoned quiet reigns supreme once 
 more. The men who had been dazed with, they knew not 
 what, are forthwith sobered into normal sanity : their 
 frenzied fear vanishes, and under the steadying influence of 
 this one of&cer's example they are once more a daring, de- 
 fiant Rank and File, as with fierce demonhke reckless- 
 ness they ttun upon their enemy, heedless ahke of danger 
 and of all consequences. The first act in such a drama 
 comes back in after years as a nightmare to be remembered 
 with horror. But with the remembrance of its second 
 phase comes the redeeming recollection of noble deeds, and 
 of heroes to whom danger with aU. its usually terrible accom- 
 paniments seemed to have been an ordinary occurrence, a 
 positive enj oyment. It is the indescribable influence of a bom 
 leader maddened for the moment with the exultation that 
 some feel during the presence of extreme danger, which 
 converts dismayed confusion into order, and begets triumph. 
 When such a man appears amidst a panic-stricken crowd, 
 even the faint in spirit take new strength. Their brief, 
 though appalling heart-sinking vanishes as with the stroke 
 of a wizard's wand, and they press forward with that shout 
 which with friend and foe is known to mean victory. Men 
 who thus rapidly experience such opposite sensations live 
 for the moment as it were in another world. The dazed 
 skulker is often converted in an instant into the hero so 
 recklessly brave that it is impossible to pronounce whether 
 he be human or divine, mere soldier or inspired devil. Those 
 
 370 
 
THE EXCITEMENT OF BATTLE 
 
 who have had to fight for their hves in the confusion of a 
 storming party or in the noise and din of a cavalry melee, 
 know what all this means. They understand its delights 
 and exultation, and remember its disappointments and the 
 crushing reaction which often follows. Until men have 
 had such experience they cannot know how often glory is 
 closely allied to shame, and how nearly related the noble 
 feeling of self-sacrifice may be to the frenzied brutality of 
 the savage. 
 
 Most surely it is only the man that has often fought side 
 by side with the British soldier who knows what a daring 
 and self-sacrificing fellow, and what a magnificent fighter 
 he is when well led. But he must be well led, and as a 
 general rule I believe that leader must be a British 
 gentleman. 
 
 At daybreak next morning aU the staff were busy collect- 
 ing our scattered Division, the enemy having entirely 
 disappeared. During the confusion of the night, however, 
 they had repossessed themselves of aU the guns they had 
 lost during the action 1 From Simree we carried away 
 no trophy, but it taught us a lesson which none ever 
 forgot. 
 
 Soon afterwards, on June 13, 1858, Sir Hope Grant had 
 a most successful engagement at a place north of the Goomtee 
 named Newabgunj Bara Bunkee, and nearly eighteen miles 
 due east from Lucknow. There we inflicted heavy loss, 
 both in guns and in men, upon the enemy. Upon that 
 occasion we struck camp at Chinut in the evening before it 
 was dark, and left our tents and all baggage under the 
 protection of a guard 1,200 strong. The men slept until 
 about 10 p.m., and fell in at ir p.m. to begin their march 
 of twelve miles. Newabgunj Bara Bunkee had lately been 
 
 371 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 the rallying point for all the Oudh rebels, and our latest 
 information led us to believe that their fighting force col- 
 lected there numbered about 15,000, most of whom were 
 plucky zameendary men, who had with them a large 
 number of guns. All told, our column only numbered 
 3,500 fighting men, but we always went into action quite 
 certain we should win, and I presume that one of the 
 reasons we did so was that the intelligent men amongst 
 the enemy also felt we should. They were consequently 
 half beaten by the time we had opened fire upon them. It 
 was a very dark night, and the last six miles were across 
 the open, as we had quitted the usual road. 
 
 We had a small cavalry charge during the day, when 
 Captain Charles Frazer, in command of his squadron of the 7th 
 Hussars, got right in amongst some of the enemy's horse and 
 foot. I had charged with it to see what the thing was like. But 
 the dust raised was so great that all I really saw when in the 
 thick of the melee was the flashing of tulwars and of sabres. 
 Frazer was given the Victoria Cross for this charge, and 
 deserved it, for he was a daring and brilliant cavalry leader. 
 
 Augustus Anson, V.C, was riding a big flea-bitten greyish 
 Gulf Arab that had belonged to his uncle General Anson, 
 who died when Commander-in-Chief at the beginning of 
 the Mutiny. Augustus, an indifferent horseman and a 
 bad swordsman, never lost a chance of taking part in any 
 cavalry charge that " was going " in his neighbourhood. 
 So of course he also charged with Frazer, and joined in this 
 melee to his heart's content. When I saw him after the 
 charge, his flea-bitten grey was bleeding from many a 
 sabre cut. During the course of the Mutiny he had had a 
 large number of hand-to-hand encounters with individual 
 Sowars, in which he had generally killed his man. I can 
 
 372 
 
A CAVALRY CHARGE 
 
 see him in action in my mind's eye now, with his mouth 
 firmly closed and determination marked on every feature 
 of his face. He was in every sense a soldier, absolutely 
 indifferent to danger ; he revelled in those hand-to-hand 
 encounters. His family should revere his memory, for he 
 was a relative to be remembered : I know that I am proud 
 to have been his friend. 
 
 During this action I had a great deal of galloping about, 
 and during one of my goings and comings, I suddenly 
 found myself confronted by a foot soldier of the enemy who 
 wore a green turban, which I believe indicated that he 
 claimed descent from the " Prophet." As I approached 
 at a canter, he had just planted a green standard about 
 fifty yards in front of a battery he was evidently serving 
 with. He cried out in the most defiant Hindostanee, 
 "Come on with your tulwar." I had^only a regulation 
 infantry sword, and I had not been trained to fight on 
 horseback, but I could not shirk such a challenge. So 
 drawing my sword, I put spurs to my horse and rode for 
 him as hard as I could. Just as I reached him, I made my 
 horse swerve in order to knock him down, and he cut at 
 me at the same moment ; but in trjdng to avoid my horse 
 by a sort of jump to one side he stumbled and nearly fell, 
 and before he could " right himself " my Sowar Orderly, 
 who was behind me, finished him with his lance. I was not 
 very proud of this achievement, so I kept it to myself at 
 the time. 
 
 In one of my gallops to and fro during this action I came 
 upon the place where the surgeon of the 2nd Battalion 
 Rifle Brigade was patching up the wounded. A young 
 lieutenant who had been hit in the foot had just had one of 
 his toes amputated, which the surgeon threw from him as 
 
 373 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 he finished the operation. Almost before the toe had 
 reached the ground a big kite — of which many were then 
 fljdng about — swooped down, and the young of&cer had 
 the excitement of seeing his toe carried away into the air 
 to be devoured at the kite's leisure. 
 
 After all Sir Hope Grant's actions in Oudh, it was my 
 duty to make a sketch of the ground fought over, showing 
 its features and all the movements made by the troops 
 engaged. It was after this action — and we had many 
 whose names even I now forget — that I saw the largest 
 number of the enemy's dead whilst I was engaged in making 
 my plan of the position that had to accompany the general's 
 despatch to Army Headquarters. It was no easy matter 
 to make a plan that Sir Hope could fully understand. 
 Like many whom I have known, he found it dif&cult to 
 take in the features of ground from a military sketch. I 
 was a very fair draughtsman, and often, when I took him 
 any such sketch, he would turn it in every direction, but 
 I do not believe he was ever able to fully follow upon it 
 the movements shown there which had been made by his 
 own orders. When he was a young officer, very few were 
 ever taught to sketch ground or to make even the simplest 
 military survey. 
 
 By far the ablest native ruler I met in India was Maun 
 Singh, an Oudh talookdar of great importance and wealth. 
 About thirty years of age, and very cunning, he was careful 
 to be always on the wirming side. When he fuUy realized 
 that the Mutiny was a failure, he became loyal, a poHcy 
 that so incensed most of the other great Baiswarra zameen- 
 dars that they besieged him in a strong fort he owned near 
 Fyzabad. After the siege had lasted some time he applied 
 to us for help, saying he was running short of provisions. 
 
 374 
 
MAUN SINGH 
 
 To help a man of such importance, who was at least a de- 
 clared friend, Sir Hope moved on July 22 from Newabgunj 
 Bara Bunkee with the force he had kept at that place since 
 the important fight there, which I have just described. 
 
 After a week's marching in the extremely hot weather 
 of July, 1858, we reached Fyzabad. It stands upon the 
 right bank of the river Gogra, and used to be a large city 
 of great importance. The news of our approach had akeady 
 broken up the bulk of the enemy's forces in the neighbour- 
 hood. Some had joined the Begum beyond the river, 
 and about 8,000 had made for Sultanpoor, on the Goomtee, 
 about thirty-five miles, due south of Fyzabad. Four miles 
 below the latter city, on the same bank of the river, are the 
 remains of Ajoudia, the ancient Hindoo capital of Oudh. 
 That river swarms with alligators. I have seen at least 
 fifty, big and little, basking together in the sun upon 
 its mud banks. When our advanced guard of cavalry 
 and horse artOlery reached it, we found several boats 
 laden with sepoys just pushing off for the opposite 
 bank. A couple of our six-pounders opened fire, but 
 did them no harm. There are some extremely old temples 
 at the Ghat on the river, and I was shown a spot 
 on the bank where the great Hindoo god Ram is said 
 to have disappeared into the earth. Hooneeman, the 
 monkey god, is worshipped here, and the numerous tamarind 
 trees about the place are thickly inhabited by a species of 
 large monkey, who are treated by the inhabitants with 
 great respect. Sir Hope Grant insisted upon the lazy 
 priests who crowded the place opening the temple where 
 was the sacred image of this deity. They shilly-shallied 
 until at last they opened the door, and, to the horror of the 
 bystanders, we entered. In the middle was a block of 
 
 375 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 heavy black wood, lignum vita, I believe, which was sup- 
 posed to represent the head and body of a monkey, but I 
 could see no resemblance to any such animal in it. It 
 was clothed in a garment of some rich stuff, and was decked 
 with jewels and gold-mohurs. My general kicked it over, 
 to the horror of the dirty fat priests about, who had wor- 
 shipped, or pretended to worship, it since they were boys. 
 
 The next day Maun Sing paid the general a visit, accom- 
 panied by a younger brother, who was fat and jolly. Upon 
 Sir Hope's return visit I had a good opportunity of inspect- 
 ing his fort, but could discover no ruins made or other 
 damage done to it by the enemy's fire during the siege 
 he alleged he had sustained, in which however we had 
 never beUeved. 
 
 Sir Hope Grant lost no time in collecting a sufficient 
 number of boats to bridge the river Gogra, which is 
 there about 500 yards wide. When good piers had 
 been constructed upon each side, the actual space 
 to be bridged was reduced to 470 yards. We secured 
 seventy-five flat-bottomed native boats, of which two- 
 thirds varied from about twenty to seventy tons in 
 grain-carrjdng capacity, the remainder were smaller. 
 Bamboo was largely used for the superstructure, and 
 answered admirably, being both strong and Ught, ele- 
 phants crossing it without danger or difficulty. The bridge 
 took over five weeks in construction. 
 
 The enemy were in considerable force on the opposite or 
 left bank, and had some heavy guns, but made poor use 
 of them. A large sandy island had been left when the river 
 flood went down, and to it our bridge was made imder the 
 protection of a post|°',we established upon it. Our force only 
 numbered between four and five thousand men, of which 
 
 376 
 
FORCE A PASSAGE OVER THE GOGRA 
 
 some 1,000 were cavalry and a battery of horse artillery. 
 During the night of November 26-7, 1858, Gordon's Bat- 
 talion of Sikhs were ferried over above the bridge with orders 
 to advance and take the enemy in flank when the first gun 
 was fired in the morning. Before it was Hght the bridge 
 was crowded with troops making their way to the northern 
 bank, and as soon as day broke our guns opened fire, and 
 Gordon's Sikhs advanced. This double attack, in front and 
 on flank was too much for our enemy, who retired, carrying 
 off all their guns but one. The land upon the enemy's 
 side near the river was very deep for a couple of miles, 
 being flooded every year in the rainy season, and we had 
 some trouble in getting our guns over it. By the time that 
 our cavalry and horse artillery had reached sound ground, 
 the enemy had a considerable start of us, but Sir Hope lost 
 no time in following them up. Our cavalry and horse 
 artillery pursuit extended to about twenty miles, at which 
 distance all our horses were well pumped. We took six guns, 
 and the enemy must have felt there was no use in attempting 
 to fight us. I rode my horse to a standstill, and when we 
 turned towards camp I was compelled to abandon him, for 
 I regret to say he was completely foundered. I had to get 
 back to camp with my saddle and bridle on the Umber of 
 the horse artillery battery we had with us, and I confess that 
 twenty miles on such a springless conveyance across a 
 country abounding in baiiks of from two to three feet high, 
 was about as fatiguing a journey as I ever made. In crossing 
 those banks we broke several, if not most, of our spare wheels, 
 as in descending the far side of each bank the spare wheel, 
 being^carried in a vertical position, was frequently caught 
 by'the edge of the bank as the Hmber dropped down the 
 bank on the opposite side. 
 
 377 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 I had a lengthened conversation with the horse artillery 
 gunner on the limber-box beside me. He began by trying 
 to frighten me, a favourite amusement with a soldier when 
 he has the opportunity of trying it on with some one whom 
 he regards as young and inexperienced. He described the 
 horrible accidents he had seen when Horse Artillery had been 
 obliged to cross banks " just like this one, sir," as we 
 bumped over one of the many that fell so plentifully in our 
 way upon that occasion. He did it cleverly, for his imagina- 
 tion was decidedly vivid. When at last he suddenly dis- 
 covered that I was " drawing him out," and that instead of 
 looking horror-stricken my face wore an amused expression, 
 he " shut up," and we talked upon other subjects durin 
 the rest of the journey. 
 
 This was the longest cavalry pursuit I ever took part in, 
 and all ranks were very glad that our little force did not 
 move again for some days. Indeed, the horses required a 
 good rest after it. 
 
 We had heavy torrential rains at Fyzabad the end of 
 July and beginning of August, 1858. They cooled the 
 air, but rendered the country cart tracks, I must not call 
 them roads, well-nigh impassable, and they made even the 
 small rivers unfordable. It was not therefore until the 7th 
 of the latter month that any detachment could be made 
 from our force at Fyzabad to drive the enemy from Sultan- 
 poor as ordered by Lord Clyde. That city is about forty 
 miles due south of Fyzabad. Brigadier Horsford was sent 
 in command of the column employed. A brave man and 
 a charming companion, full of wit and with plenty of ability, 
 he was not, however, a keen soldier in the field, and this 
 species of employment in the rainy season was not much to 
 his taste and did not accord with his habits. He liked his 
 
 378 
 
MARCH UPON SULTANPOOR 
 
 creature comforts, and home service suited him better than 
 the rough-and-tumble, temper-trjring mishaps of a campaign 
 in India. He found the enemy prepared to oppose his 
 passage over the Sye, on the south bank of which Sultanpoor 
 stood. That river had become wide, deep and rapid from 
 the recent rains. Not thinking he was strong enough to 
 force a passage, he did nothing. The gift of imagination 
 in war's affairs had not been bestowed upon him at his 
 baptism. His force was small and the enemy were numerous 
 and well provided with guns. He therefore sent back to 
 Sir Hope Grant for orders. The latter, the keenest of 
 soldiers, whom neither heat nor rain could stop, thought he 
 had better go there himself, and accordingly started for 
 Sultanpoor with the movable column then at Fyzabad. 
 
 We took with us two heavy guns and four 8-inch mortars, 
 which increased the difficulty of our march over flooded 
 tracks into which our wheels sank often to the axle. But 
 the elephant, that most intelligent of beasts — and most 
 useful also when you can feed him, managed to pull and push 
 these heavy pieces over all the worst parts. It is a pleasure 
 to watch the cleverness with which they apply their great 
 strength upon such occasions. 
 
 In August, 1858, Sir Hope Grant's division moved to 
 Sultanpoor, which is on the southern bank of the river 
 Goomtee, and about thirty-seven miles nearly due south of 
 Fyzabad. We had some skirmishes with the enemy near 
 the river, which is there about 200 yards wide, and runs 
 with a swift current at that season. AH the boats had been 
 removed by the enemy, but we found a few rotten " dug- 
 outs," which the enemy had sunk as useless and not worth 
 the labour their destruction would entail. With these some 
 rafts were made, and upon them we crossed, men, guns and 
 
 379 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 stores. The horses were swum over very cleverly by the 
 men of the Punjaub Regiment, and of the large number 
 thus crossed over we only lost two. The enemy attacked 
 us as soon as we had formed on the other side, and of course 
 they got the worst of it. The following morning, August 29, 
 we advanced at the first glimmer of daylight upon the 
 position the enemy had occupied the evening before, but 
 all had bolted. 
 
 When in the neighbourhood of Sultanpoor I heard many 
 stories of babies having been stolen by wolves and suckled 
 and reared up by them. I had previously read of this in 
 Sir WUliam Sleeman's interesting book on Oudh, so I 
 assume it was a well authenticated fact. If so, the legend 
 handed down to us by the Conscript Fathers about Romulus 
 and Remus, which many have ridiculed for twenty-six 
 centuries, may well have been true at a time when wolves 
 flourished in the vaUey of the Tiber. 
 
 380 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 The Baiswarra Campaign in the Winter of 
 1858-9 
 
 THE Baiswarra district of Oudh may be said to lie 
 between that part of the river Goomtee on the north, 
 which is between Lucknow and Sultanpoor, and that part 
 of the Ganges on the south that is between Cawiipore and 
 Allahabad. According to the information suppHed us by the 
 civil authorities, there were about 60,000 men in arms there, 
 exclusive of the mutinous sepoys, and there were some 
 300 guns of sorts distributed amongst its many forts. A 
 very large proportion of the Bengal native army had always 
 been recruited there. The whole district was owned and 
 ruled by great talookdars, who resided in strong forts, 
 from which they governed their respective districts in 
 true feudal fashion. Amongst them, Beni Mahdo, of Roy 
 Bareilly, Lall Mahdo, of Ametie, and Maun Sing — whom 
 I have just mentioned — were the most powerful. The 
 forts in which they lived were places of considerable strength, 
 surrounded with ramparts and one or more deep and often 
 wet ditches, outside of which again was a dense and impass- 
 able jungle. It consisted partly of bamboo, but mostly of 
 thorny bushes, that made all passage through it extremely 
 difficult. 
 
 These forts were all of the same character, though 
 
 381 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 differing much in size and importance. The three we 
 took, Amethie, Rampoor-Kussia and Shankerpoor, were 
 the largest and of greatest consequence. The space enclosed 
 by the outer line of works in each was from 200 to 250 acres. 
 Their trace was irregular, but in a rough way approached 
 that of the square. In none that I saw were there any 
 re-entering angles nor any provision made in their general 
 outline for an effective flanking defence. Their designers 
 apparently considered the large, high, and sohdly built 
 towers in the enceinte, which were well provided with guns 
 of many cahbres, would answer all purposes. Their parapets 
 had a profile of from ten to eighteen feet thick of curiously 
 strong clay that resisted well the ink of the only heavy guns 
 we had with us. 
 
 Between the lines of works and for several hundred yards 
 beyond the outer ditch was a thick and practically an 
 impenetrable jungle of thorn bushes and bamboos. After 
 we had taken these places we could not get through this 
 jungle, nor even along its inner edges to sketch the works, 
 so dense was it and so formidable were its thorns. The 
 interior line of works was usually quadrilateral and had 
 substantial circular bastions at each corner, and if its size 
 was great there were others on the faces also ! It generally 
 had a considerable command over the outer works, and its 
 guns in many places could range even well over the sur- 
 rounding jungle and ground beyond it. 
 
 Every able-bodied man in each of these districts 
 was compelled by custom to fight for his feudatory chief 
 whenever required to do so, and I may truthfully say that 
 England had not a friend in any part of this wide and wild 
 Province. The defenders of these forts had no rifles, and 
 their musketry fire was contemptible!. Although they were 
 
 382 
 
SIR EDWARD WETHERALL 
 
 well furnished with good brass guns their ammunition was 
 bad, and they did not know how to use artillery effectively. 
 Here I had the greatest satisfaction of being once more 
 associated with Brigadier-General Sir Edward Wetherall, 
 whom I had known in the Crimea. He was in command 
 of a column, and was one of the few first class men we then 
 had in any important command in Oudh. But although a 
 thorough soldier in every respect, well versed in the science 
 and practice of his profession, and all round an able com- 
 mander, he was not a favourite with either Lord Clyde or 
 with General Sir William Mansfield, the chief of the staff. 
 It was to me, however, always a pleasure to be associated 
 with one who so thoroughly knew his work, and who could 
 explain so clearly to others what he wanted done. Sir 
 E. Wetherall was one of the ablest and best generals I ever 
 served with. 
 
 We did little during the months of September and October, 
 1858, beyond taking and destroying some of the important 
 forts that belonged to the landowners in the Baiswarra 
 district. They were all of the same character, and were 
 mostly deserted because their owners knew they were not 
 strong enough to resist us. 
 
 On November 3, 1858, Sir Hope encamped within about 
 six miles of Rampoor Kussia, a strong fort on the Sei River, 
 that belonged to a Rajah of doubtful character. Lord Clyde 
 had arranged that whilst General Wetherall attacked it 
 on November 4 from the south. Sir Hope Grant should do 
 so from the opposite direction. To our astonishment, how- 
 ever, we heard some heavy firing in its direction early 
 on the 3rd, soon after we had encamped, and before long 
 a kossid arrived with a letter written in Greek character. 
 As an instance of how little the ordinary schoolboy's know- 
 
 383 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 ledge of that tongue lasts with him, I may mention that it 
 was only with much fumbling hesitation that my staff 
 colleagues, Major, afterwards Sir Hemy, WHmot, Captain, 
 now General, Sir Robert Biddulph, and I were able to make 
 out its meaning. The message was to say that, without 
 intending it, he had come to close quarters with the enemy, 
 and not wishing to retire from the contest to which he was 
 thus unintentionally committed, he felt obMged to assault 
 the place. He therefore asked Sir Hope Grant to co- 
 operate and attack the enemy, who were already retreating 
 up the river Sei. 
 
 Sir Hope, taking with him the cavalry and some horse 
 artillery guns, started as soon as possible ; but we were 
 too late to do anything. In taking this strong fort WetheraU 
 had lost seventy- eight killed and wounded, but by attacking 
 before every bolt-hole had been closed to the enemy, as the 
 Commander-in-Chief had planned, he had won Lord Clyde's 
 eternal enmity. Lord Clyde was not a forgiving man 
 towards those whom he did not class as his personal friends, 
 and WetheraU had never been one of them. Besides this, 
 he had a great predilection for combined movements, for 
 which great exactitude as to time and the pace of marching 
 were essential. This made him aU the more furious with 
 those who did not play up to the somewhat complicated 
 plans of operations in which he delighted. 
 
 In our cavalry pursuit after Rampoor Kussia, one of the 
 1st Punjaub Cavalry, when rifling the body of a sepoy whom 
 he had killed, found upon him two English miniatures. He 
 gave them over to his commanding officer, who, dining that 
 evening with Sir Hope Grant, mentioned the circiunstance 
 to him. Sir Hope, fond of art, expressed a wish to see them, 
 and when subsequently shown them found they were the 
 
 384 
 
AMETHIE 
 
 likenesses of his father-in-law and mother-in-law, whose 
 house had been looted when the Mutiny broke out. 
 
 In the combined operation against Amethie, Sir Hope 
 Grant had been ordered to take up a position in some well 
 selected spot about two miles to the north-east of it. WhUst 
 the camp was being so formed, he went forward to recon- 
 noitre the enemy's works, and was greeted with some round 
 shot. Lord Clyde had at the same time pitched his camp 
 about three miles to the eastward of it. Receiving a 
 message that the Commander-in-Chief wished to see him. 
 Sir Hope started with a squadron of native cavalry as an 
 escort, taking me to show him the way. We found his 
 Lordship in by no means the best of humours and inclined 
 to find fault with every one. When he paused in his ejacula- 
 tions. Sir Hope said laughingly, but perhaps with the inten- 
 tion of paying him off in his own coin, that he had come 
 from the vicinity of the enemy's position straight into the 
 Commander-in-Chief's camp without having seen an out- 
 l5ang picket or even a sentry until he saw the sentry over 
 Lord Clyde's own tent. 
 
 Lord Clyde's anger was unbounded at this news ; the 
 thrust had been well planted on my general's part, for Lord 
 Clyde specially prided himself upon having all duties, 
 especially those of outposts, well and promptly executed by 
 his own immediate surroundings. But here, in close 
 proximity to the enemy, Sir Hope, the best outpost of&cer 
 in his army, had penetrated to his very tent with a squadron 
 of cavalry without having encountered a picket of any sort ! 
 It was too much for him. He sent at once for the Brigadier 
 commanding his cavalry, and poured forth upon him the 
 vials of his wrath in the broadest of Scotch, shaking his fist 
 at him as if he would have killed him. This Brigadier was 
 
 385 cc 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 not generally regarded as a Solon or a Caesar, and owed his 
 position in the Army solely to the purchase system and not 
 to either ability or military experience. But, we all asked, 
 how was it that the Commander-in-Chief had not found this 
 out before ? 
 
 During most of November and the early part of December, 
 1858, we were engaged in this Baiswarra district, pursuing 
 the scattered forces into which the mutineers had then sepa- 
 rated. We killed large numbers of them, and at last drove 
 them, together with the Nana and the still more inhuman 
 monster his brother Bala Rao, into the Nepaul jungles. 
 
 In pursuit of these two men, we reached Bulrampoor the 
 middle of December, 1858. It was a small town with a 
 fort, about fifty mUes due north of Fyzabad, and only a 
 few mUes south of the pretty river Raptee. It was a well 
 kept fort belonging to a rajah who had behaved well 
 throughout the early period of the Mutiny, when all 
 Oudh was against us. He was a very active man, about 
 thirty-five years of age ; he rode remarkably well, was 
 cheery and modest. He had saved several poor British 
 fugitives during the awfiil days when desponding native 
 loyalists began to think our rule had come to an end for 
 ever. From him we learnt that the Nana and his brother, 
 Bala Rao, had taken possession of the old fort of Tool- 
 sepore with eight guns and a large armed following. 
 That place was about eighteen miles to the east-north-east 
 of us. 
 
 We had then a small column operating in the Gormkpore 
 district under a stupid Brigadier. His movements were 
 so slow that the force he commanded was commonly known 
 as the " Hackery Brigade." The only British troops with 
 him was a battalion of the Somersetshire Light Infantry 
 
 386 
 
LORD MARK KERR 
 
 under a remarkable man, Colonel Lord Mark Kerr. He 
 was able but flighty, and amongst other peculiarities he 
 entertained a sovereign contempt for his Brigadier, who was 
 a weak old Indian fossil entirely unaccustomed to the 
 control or management of British soldiers, and absolutely 
 unfit for any independent command on active service. The 
 two men had no ideas in common, and their temperaments 
 differed as much as the climate of Iceland from that of the 
 Gold Coast. Numerous misunderstandings arose between 
 Ihem, until at last Lord Mark telegraphed to know if he 
 might put his Brigadier under arrest ! 
 
 Sir Hope Grant sent this Brigadier orders to take Toolse- 
 pore, but he completely failed in the attempt, as Lord Mark 
 Kerr would give him no effective help. Sir Hope then 
 ordered the Brigade to join him, and I was sent out some 
 miles to meet it. When I saw the dust of its column in the 
 distance I halted to let the advanced guard come up. The 
 first figure I made out was a man on horseback without a 
 hat but with a white umbrella over his head. He carried in 
 his hand a light infantry shako, and he rode without 
 stirrups. His horse was a good one, and he sat it like one 
 who was no stranger to the saddle. I had often seen him 
 during our last year's stay in the Crimea, and had there 
 heard amusing stories about him. He was eccentric by 
 nature, and wished the world to remark upon his eccentri- 
 cities. He was a very well read man, full of talent, 
 and had his regiment in first-rate order, though he ruled it 
 as an absolute monarch, and was consequently often " in 
 hot water " with the military authorities. Subsequently 
 I came to know him well : to admire his talents, to forget 
 his peculiarities, and to like him for the goodness of his 
 heart. Taking it altogether, this " Hackery Brigade " on 
 
 387 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 the march was a curious sight and amused me and others 
 intensely. 
 
 Shortly after these events Sir Hope Grant, taking his 
 Staff with him, returned to Lucknow. 
 
 In the early months of 1859 the adjutant-general of the 
 division, now General Sir Robert Biddulph, and the judge 
 advocate-general, the late Colonel Sir Henry Wilmot, Bart., 
 and I had just settled down comfortably in a good house at 
 Lucknow, when Sir Hope Grant received an order from Lord 
 Clyde to retake the field. I had gone to Cawnpore for the 
 first few days' leave I had had since I left home, in order to 
 see a young brother — now General Sir George Wolseley — 
 who was to pass through that station on his way to join his 
 regiment in the Punjaub. I had only time to say " How 
 are you ? " and " Good-bye " to him, and then to hurry 
 back to catch Sir Hope before he left for Fyzabad on April 
 12, 1859. From Lucknow to that ancient city is about ninety 
 miles, which distance we did in three long marches. We 
 embarked at Fyzabad in a small craft and dropped down the 
 river Gogra some fifteen miles to where our horses had 
 been previously sent forward. A brisk canter took us to 
 Amorha, where we joined the force with which Sir Hope 
 was about to operate. 
 
 In the spring of 1859 we marched through a great 
 variety of country between the Ganges and the Nepal 
 Mountains. We crossed many rivers, small and big, and 
 in many places the scenery was exceedingly beautiful. 
 The valley of the swift running Raptee is very fine from an 
 artistic point, and is exceedingly picturesque where it winds 
 round an important lower spur of the mountain range that 
 is the watershed between the great Bramapootra and the 
 Ganges. The lower sides of these mountains are well 
 
 388 
 
THUGGEE AND INFANTICIDE 
 
 covered with timber, but those forests were uninhabited, 
 being the hotbed of malarial fevers. Into them we at last 
 drove the remnant of our mutinied sepoys. The level 
 district to the south of these lower mountain slopes is one 
 where Thuggee had been extremely common. Men were 
 murdered for the sake of the few annas they were supposed 
 to have about them. Female children were often murdered 
 by their fathers who wished to save themselves the expense 
 of providing them with marriage portions when they grew 
 to women's estate. Altogether, it was a country wUd in 
 its natural characteristics and inhabited by a people that 
 were httle influenced by the humane principles that are 
 common amongst Christians. 
 
 There were said to be in the Toolsepore neighbourhood and 
 in the Nepaul jungles north of it about 50,000 rebels, of 
 whom one-half were mutineers of the late Bengal army. 
 They were close to our frontiers and in a condition of abj ect 
 want, and had become a great source of anxiety to Jung 
 Bahadoor, for being high caste Hindoos he dared not adopt 
 coercive measures towards them. They still had a large 
 number of guns, and the Nana and his infamous brother, 
 Bala Rao, was with them. 
 
 Upon revisiting Bulrampoor the first week in May, 1859, 
 Sir Hope Grant received letters from both those brothers. The 
 younger brother, Bala Rao, wrote humbly declaring he had 
 murdered no European, and in the Queen's proclamation 
 it was promised that those whose hands were clean in that 
 respect would be dealt with leniently. The Nana's letter 
 was couched in a very different tone. He abused our East 
 India Company, and boldly asserted they had no right to 
 the country, nor to proclaim him an outlaw. 
 
 There was nothing for it but to cross the Nepaul frontier 
 
 389 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 and disperse this force of mutineers and the crowd of bad 
 characters from Oudli who had joined them. We were 
 engaged in this unpleasant work for about a week. It was 
 a curious sensation finding oneself opposed to men dressed 
 in scarlet coatees. In some places we had to leave our 
 horses and clamber up the hillsides as best we could. We 
 found several women and children in the last phase of 
 starvation, and also the bodies of others who had evidently 
 died of want. Sir Hope Grant, with that kindness of heart 
 and Christian spirit that distinguished him, did what he 
 could to help these poor creatures, a line of conduct that 
 greatly astonished those whose lives he saved. 
 
 On May 21 we had some considerable skirmishing up the 
 sides of these hiUs under a dropping, badly-aimed fire from 
 our red-coated enemy. We occasionally came to fairly 
 close quarters with them, but their ammunition had not 
 been improved by the damp jungle climate, and beyond 
 wounding Sir Hope's aide-de-camp, whose life was not 
 deemed of much value by any of us, they hurt very few of 
 our party. 
 
 Two days afterwards, on May 23, 1859, we had our last 
 skirmish with the mutineers of the Indian army, and I think 
 I may note that date as the end of the great mutiny that 
 had for a time so seriously shaken our power in Asia. 
 
 Very shortly after these events, I returned with Sir Hope 
 Grant to Lucknow and resumed my ordinary staff duties 
 there. 
 
 And so ended the mutiny of the Bengal Army. It 
 abounded in examples of British heroism, of which our 
 race has every reason to be proud. 
 
 It was a period of storm and stress, of horrors and 
 of glory. Its history abounds in military events of 
 
 390 
 
END OF THE MUTINY 
 
 transcendent national importance, and in brilliant in- 
 stances of individual prowess. Surely, a great fighting 
 reputation is a most valuable item when we estimate the 
 strength of any State. The self-sacrifice in the cause of 
 country and in the maintenance of our wide Empire which 
 fills the history of the Mutiny, should be learnt by every 
 British schoolboy. Without doubt, the splendid daring and 
 heroism of our countrymen of every class throughout that 
 awful period will never be forgotten by the natives of India. 
 In a land where reading is a rare accomplishment, and where 
 books are few, such stories are more carefully handed down 
 from father to son than in the noise and busy turmoU of 
 European civilization. But even during profound peace it 
 is essential that the millions of our fellow subjects in India 
 should always have before their eyes an army of British 
 soldiers as the outward evidence of Britain's strength. It 
 will not suffice to tell them we are strong in Europe ; all 
 classes must see for themselves our strength in India if we 
 mean them at all times to fuUy realize our power. 
 
 Putting upon one side all consideration of humanity — 
 for it did not enter into his religion — the line of conduct 
 adopted by the Nana throughout the Mutiny was the 
 extreme of folly. Had he been really clever he would never 
 have allowed the atrocities perpetrated at Cawnpore to 
 have been committed. The wise rebel ruler would have 
 released the British officer upon parole not to serve in India 
 for say two or three years, and he would have shielded the 
 helpless women and children who feU into his hands from 
 aU harm and insult. He might either have sent them down 
 the river to Benares under a strong guard, or have kept them 
 safe until he could have released them for a heavy ransom. 
 Had he even killed the officers but spared the women and 
 
 391 
 
THE STORY OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE 
 
 children, how much better would have been his position ! 
 That dreadful House of Blood and the WeU by its door 
 haunted every one who had seen it soon after the massacre. 
 AH the English troops employed in the two reliefs of Luck- 
 now and in its subsequent capture had seen it when 
 passing through Cawnpore into Oudh, and it was the re- 
 membrance of it that kept so long alive their craving for 
 vengeance. 
 
 End of Volume L 
 
 392 
 
Index to Vol. I 
 
 Airey, Lord, 145, 201, 216 
 Alarms, False, 280, 366 
 Aldershot, 13 
 
 Join at, 224 
 
 Camp, 225 
 Alexander, Fort, 99 
 
 the Great, on the march in India, 
 360 
 Allahabad, 253 
 
 Reach, 267 
 Alum Bagh, Descriptions of, 282 
 
 Commt. of, 283 
 
 Sir J. Outram left with a division 
 camped there, 321, 326 
 Amethie, 382 
 Amsterdam, Fort, 22 
 
 Island of, 22 
 Andrews, my servant, 189, 192, 312 
 Anglcsea Barracks, 227 
 Anson, Hon. Augustus, 344, 372 
 Army, our, in 1854, 80 
 
 Sent to Crimea, 85, 86, 97, 
 
 Embarks for home, 2:6 
 Artillery, Coolness of, at Sebastopol, 
 
 152 
 
 Baiswarra Campaign, 350, 362, 381 
 
 Forts, 381, 382 
 Balaclava, reach, 90 
 
 Land there, 93 
 
 Our position there, 96 
 
 Embarkations of Army there, 216 
 
 Soldiers, British, their sufferings, 
 resignation and fine feeling, 
 138, 141 
 
 Shops, 140 
 
 Bid goodbye to, 220 
 
 Road to, 138 
 Bala Rao, 386, 389 
 
 Banca, Straits of, 240 
 Bara Bunkel, Battle of, 371 
 Baree, stout fight at, 353 
 Bamston, Roger, 113, 153, 252 
 
 Commands in Transit, 230 
 
 Mortally wounded, 305 
 Barrack damages, 9 
 Barrel Bridge, Burmah, 58 
 Batteries, aUied, open fire, 149 
 Battle of the Boyne, 2 
 
 Inkermann, 142 
 Bayard of India, Outram, 329 
 Bellerophon, given quarters in, 233 
 Benares, reach, 267 
 Bengal Native Infantry, 65 
 Bengalee, The, iy 
 Biddulph, Sir R., 388 
 Bigge, General, 275 
 Bithoor, Nana's home, 274 
 
 Fight near, 275 
 Beni Mahdo, 381 
 Black Hole of Calcutta, 249 
 Bosphorus, 89 
 
 British force in India when Mutiny 
 broke out, 257 
 
 Soldier, 350 
 Brown, Sam, 258 
 
 Sir George, 144 
 Bruce, Hon. F., our Minister in 
 
 China, 230 
 Buddhism, 36 
 Buffalo water flesh, 60 
 Bullock transport, 260 
 Bulrampoor, 386 
 Burial of dead, killed in Sekunder 
 
 Bagh, 307 
 Burmese, 39, 40 
 Bunnee Bridge, 279 
 Burmese women, 40 
 
 Calcutta during Mutiny, 250 
 
 393 
 
INDEX 
 
 Camels, number of, on line of 
 march, 349 
 
 Possessed by each officer, 349 
 Camp of 90th, 96 
 Campbell, Col., 90th, 153 
 
 Major, 121 
 Canal, Haidar's, 298 
 Cannock Chase, i 
 Cape, reach the, 237 
 Cape Town, 21,75 
 Cardwell, Mr., 337 
 Careening Creek Ravine, 114 
 Carter's Charpoy on Colin Camp- 
 bell's stomach, 316 
 Cathcart's Hill, 94 
 Cavalry charge at Bara Bunkee, 
 
 371 
 pursuit after passage of Gogra, 
 
 377 
 Cavan, Duke of Berwick defeated 
 
 at, 2 
 Cawnpore, 251 
 Reach, 272 
 To Alum Bagh, 278 
 The well and house of Massoire 
 
 there, 272 
 Bad news from it received when 
 
 in Lucknow, 317, 318 
 House of Blood at, 392 
 Importance of, 320 
 Chandernagore, 26 
 Char Bagh Bridge, 297 
 Chatham, join at, 9 
 Cheap, Sir J., 51, 53, 54' 
 Chelsea, Royal Commission, 216 
 complains to me, 315 
 Would have taken Redan, 196 
 His little Scotch scheme for 
 
 taking of Lucknow, 308 
 The troops very fond of him, 335 
 Chersonese, Cape, 97 
 Chillianwallah, 1 2 
 China, ordered to, 227 
 Cause of war with, 228 
 Gunboats for, 229 
 Embark for, 231 
 Chinaman, The, 248 
 Chinsura, 25, 250, 255 
 
 Station, 261 
 Cholera on the march, 59 
 Christmas Day, no 
 Civilian Commissioner had no re- 
 gard for the overworkedBritish 
 soldier, 357 
 Clifford, Col. Hugh, 145, 
 Hon. H., 204 
 
 Clogher, Bishop of, 4 
 Codrington, General, 120 
 Colin Campbell, 94, 144, 251 
 
 Making a speech, 299 
 Commissariat, 82 
 Constantinople en fite, 87 
 Corunna, 235 
 
 Cossacks, escape from, 203 
 Craigie, Capt., killed, 133 
 Crimea — -Army embarks there for 
 
 home, 220 
 Crucified prisoners, 53 
 Czar's death, 135 
 
 D 
 
 Dardanelles, run by night, 87 
 Delhi besieged, 254, 289 
 
 Form of Mutiny, 268, 289 
 Dil Khoosha, 297 
 Discipline, 242 
 Dockyard Creek, 98, 99, 100 
 Doctor, the nervous, 239, 243 
 Donnabew, Capt. Lock's disaster at, 
 
 43. 45 
 Military Expedition to, 51 
 Doundea-Kera, 362 
 Dress of Queen's wing in Burmah, 
 
 52 
 Dubhn, join 90th L.I. in, 81 
 Life in, 84 
 
 Population sympathy with priso- 
 ners, 84 
 Duperier, Capt. ,'41 
 
 Elephants in Alum Bagh, 286 
 Elgin, Lord, as ambassador, 228 
 Engineers' Rl., 114, 135 
 
 Assistant, 113 
 
 Duties, 121, 128, 129 
 
 Made prisoners, 137 
 Europa, SS., 88 
 Execution of a Newaderoi, 207 
 
 At Futteepore, 270 
 Explosion in Artillery Park, 209 
 
 Fyzabad, 375, 378, 388 
 Fire, first time under, 53 
 Firewood, want of, 115, 140 
 
 394 
 
INDEX 
 
 Food, badness of, 138 
 Franks, Col., 16 
 Freemasonry, 81 
 French at Grand Review, 214 
 Futteepore, reach, 269 
 
 Garnet, Dr., Bishop of Clogher, 4 
 Generals, British, the uselessness 
 
 of, 144, 222 
 Generals, our, 97 
 Godwin, General, 28 
 Gogra, passage of, 376 
 Golden Bridge House, 6 
 Goomtee River, passage of, at 
 
 Sultanpore, 379 
 Gordon's Battn., Charles G., 147 
 Gordon, Major J., 133 
 Government, our, 97 
 Grahame, Nichol, 15, 277 
 Grand Trunk Road, 260 
 Grant, Sir Hope, 342 
 Grattan, Col., — his order about 
 
 the command ashore, 33, 46 
 Greeks in India, 360 
 Green, Sir Henry, 116 
 Grog, 105 
 
 Gunboats for China, 229, 230 
 Gunner's, French, duties, 122 
 Gwalior Contingents attack Cawn- 
 
 pore, 317 
 
 H 
 
 Haig, Ensign, distinguished courage 
 
 of. 314 
 Halliwell, Col., 216, 218 
 Havelock, 292, 293 
 
 DisUked by our men, 293 
 
 Died, 320 
 
 His son, 320 
 Hawkes, Handsome Bob, 51 
 Helena, St., 75 
 
 Highland Brigade in Crimea, 214 
 Highlanders, Argyle and Suther- 
 land, take Sekunder Bagh, 302 
 Himalaya, H.M.S., Our Headquar- 
 ters embark in, 230 
 
 Nearly lost, 237 
 Hindoo festivals, 38 
 Holdrich, Sir Harry, 53"^ 
 "Hackery Brigade", 387 
 
 Hope, Lieutenant, at explosion in 
 R.A. Park, 209 
 Adrian, Brigadier, 303 
 
 Tells me Sir C. Campbell is 
 
 very angry with me, 3 1 5 
 Bids us good-bye, 327 
 Horses, cost of, in Crimea, 218 
 Hot weather, campaigning in, 357, 
 359 
 
 Indian Regulations, 345 
 Infanticide, 389 
 Inglis, Col., 292 
 Inniskilleu Dragoons, 2 
 Irby, Col., 232, 237, 310 
 
 J 
 
 Jackson, Sir Robert, iii, 112, 310 
 Jamestown, 76 
 Johnson, Lieut. Allan, 66 
 Jones, Sir Harry, 167 
 
 Wounded, 169 
 Jun'g Bahadoor, 335 
 
 TlxDops, 362 
 
 K 
 
 Kaiser Bagh, capture of, 339 
 Kavanagh, Mr., 287, 313 
 Kerr, Lord Mark, 387 
 
 Lall Mahdo, 381 
 
 Lawrence, Sir H., 291 
 
 Legion of Honour, my cross of, 277 
 
 Leprandi, General, positions near 
 
 Balaclava, 93 
 Light Infantry Regiments, 84 
 Luders, General, visits our camp, 
 
 213 
 Line, Crossing the, 19 
 Lizards in Burmah, 32 
 Lock, Capt., disaster, 42, 45 
 Loot at Lucknow, 339 
 Lord Longford, 336 
 
 395 
 
INDEX 
 
 Lucknow — 
 Siege of, 291, 294 
 
 And capture of, 333. 339 
 Relief of, 293 
 Plan for relief of, 297 
 Garrisons, withdrawal of, 317 
 Women and children, 318 
 
 M 
 
 Maclntyre, 296 
 
 Under arrest, 283 
 
 A very good shot, 330 
 Mackenzie, Jock, 216 
 Madras servant, my, 301 
 Magrath, St. Martin's, 69 
 Mahometanism, 36 
 Maidstone, ship, 14 
 Malays at Cape Town, 2 1 
 Malakoff, 99, 167, 169 
 
 Assault of, 156, 188 
 
 Gallantly taken by French, 193 
 
 Mutiny xumour of, 237 
 
 Mutiny heard of at Banca, 247 
 Malta, 87 
 
 Mamelon, Assault of, 155, 156 
 Mango-groves, 279 
 Mansfield, Sir Wilham, 336 
 March past of allied Army, 214 
 March, our hne of, length of, in 
 
 hot weather, 349, 357 
 Martiniere College, 298 
 
 Explosions at ; my servant killed 
 by it, 319 
 Maun Sing, 374, 381 
 Mauritius, 73 
 Meeanee, 1 3 , 
 Meeah-Toon, 43 
 Mess House, Lucknow, 308 
 
 Assault of, 310 
 Middle Ravine Picket, loi 
 Ministers, British, 97 
 Molyneux, Sir Thomas, 3 
 Monastery of St. George, 186 
 Monkeys, 245, 352 
 Moore, Sir J., 234 
 
 His grave, 235 
 Motee Mahul, 309 
 
 Taken by I Company 90th L.I., 
 
 309 
 Mother, my, 6, 7 
 Moulvee — we defeat him, 356 
 
 Mutiny, 250 
 Causes of, 253 
 End of, 390 
 
 Mutinies, former, 253 
 
 N 
 
 Napier, Sir Charles, 13, 247, 250, 
 251, 256, 262 
 
 Napoleon, 75, 77 
 
 Native Police, 265 
 
 Naval Brigade, Admiral Hewitt's 
 opinion on, 47, 121, 131 
 
 Naval Officers commanding gun- 
 boats, 229 
 
 Nana Sahib, 386, 389, 391 
 His palace, 272 
 
 Nepaul Jungles, 388. 390 
 
 Newland, Major, 301 
 
 Newtown-Butler, Battle of, 2 
 
 Night panics, 367 
 
 O 
 
 Officers, inefficient, 222 
 
 Olpherts, Gen. Sir WiUiam, 327, 
 
 332 
 Oirderly Room of Royal Irish, 33 
 Oudh, Description of; 279, 351, 352 
 
 Reconquest of, 348 
 
 Staff, appointed to, 342 
 Outljdng picket in Crimea, loi 
 Outposts in Lord Clyde's Camp, 385 
 Outram, 325 
 
 His soldierly qualities, 179, 292 
 
 In Oudh, 291 
 
 Left at Allahabad, 321 
 
 Pagodas at Rangoon, 3 1 
 Pandee, origin of name, 265 
 Panics by night, 368 
 Paul's, St., Island of, 22 
 Peace, disappointment at, 212 
 Pearl, H.M.S., 248 
 Pechell, the gallant, 183 
 Peel, Captain, 131, 298, 299 
 
 His presence of mind, 131, 167 
 Pennyfather, Sir J., 13, 144 
 Phoros Pass, 219 
 Picket, my first outlying, 29 
 
 In Crimea, loi 
 Picket House, St. Dion, 96 
 Plassey, Battle of, 249 
 
 396 
 
INDEX 
 
 Plum pudding, 1 1 1 
 Police, native, 265 
 Pongo Mess, 1 1 
 Ponies in Crimea, cost of, 219 
 Port Louis, 73 
 
 Portsmouth, rejoin there, 227 
 Embark for China at, 231 
 Porus, the Indian Monarch, 360 
 Paulett, Lord Wilham, 204 
 Pratt, Lieutenant, 115 
 Prince Consort, 225 
 Probyn, General, 258 
 Punjaub Troops, 257 
 Pursuit, Cavalry, 377 
 
 Q 
 
 Quarantine Bay and Creek, 98 
 Quarries, assault of, 149, 153 
 Rash endeavour to retake them, 
 159, 160 
 
 R 
 
 Races in Crimea, 212 
 
 Raglan, Lord, in the trenches, 122, 
 
 167 
 Kindness to wounded. His 
 
 death, 170 
 Raj-Mahall Hills, 265 
 Rampoor-Kussia, Fort of, 382 
 Rangoon, 28, 41 
 Raptee River, 388 
 Rebellion of 1798, 4 
 The Russian Yell, 181 
 Redan, assault of. Our puerile 
 
 attack of it, 93, 149, 164, 167, 
 
 192 
 Ditch; try to measure it, 123 
 Regulations, Indian, 345 
 Relief of Lucknow, 291 
 Repulse of English and French, 
 
 January 18, 164 
 Residency of Lucknow, 292 
 Rifle shooting, 80 
 Ross, R., Col., 216, 218 
 Royal Irish on picket, 30 
 Russell, Mr., of the Times, 175 
 Russian steamers bombard French 
 
 works, 95 
 
 Sandbag Battalion, 130 
 
 "Sand Heads", 248 
 
 Sap, advanced, working in, 183 
 
 Saultoun, Lord, 343 
 
 Science, Military, 100 
 
 Sebastopol, 98 
 
 Position, 99 
 Sekunder Bagh, 300 
 
 Attack upon, 301, 302, 303 
 Shah Nujif, 300 
 
 Foil to take it, 303, 305 
 Sheehy, Captain, 119, 186 
 
 His cave, 187 
 
 News of disaster at Redan, 192 
 Shells bursting, 126 
 Shipwrecked, 240 
 Shooting, Army, in 1895, 80 
 Siege of Lucknow, 291 
 Simon's Town, 237 
 Simree, 344, 363 
 Surajah-Dowlah, 249 
 Sleep on the march, 61 
 Smith, Wm., of Golden Bridge 
 
 House, 6 
 Soane River, 264 
 Sobraon, 17 
 Soldier servants, 16 
 Soldiers, British : Civil Commis 
 sioners had no regard for over- 
 worked British, 357 
 
 Life in hot weather, 359 
 
 Want of, 164 
 Sortie, 135, 181 
 Soyer the Chef, 217 
 St. Helena, 75 
 St. Paul's, Islands of, 22 
 St. Vincent, 75, 236 
 Stafi, Crimean, 106 
 
 Appointed to the, 201, 342 
 Stevenson, Sir F., 231 
 Storming Party, 67 
 Sultangunj, village of, 300 
 Sultanpoor, 37S 
 Sye River, 279 
 
 Table Bay, 20 
 
 Tanks in Oudh, 353 
 
 Tara Kothee taken by Captain Irby, 
 
 3" 
 Taylor, Lieut., killed, 71 
 
 397 
 
INDEX 
 
 Tcheraaya River, 99 
 
 Battle of, 172 
 Terror at night infectious, 180 
 Tiger on line of March, 266 
 Tinling's Company of 90th L.I. 
 
 make a sortie and meet us 
 
 advancing, 309 
 Todlebeu wounded, 138 
 Toolsepore, 386, 389 
 Tractir Bridge — struggle round it, 
 
 173 
 Trench Duty, 107 
 Trenches, first day in, 107 
 
 Last day in, 176 
 
 Boyaux, doctor's hut in, 185 
 Trou de Loup, fall into, dy 
 Transit, H.M.S., 230 
 
 Embark in her, 231 
 
 Sits down on her anchor, 232 
 
 An unlucky ship, 234 
 Turkish soldiers in Crimean winter, 
 
 139 
 Twenty-one Gun Battalion, 1 1 1 
 
 Wells in Groves, 279 
 
 West Indies, engagements there, 
 
 5 
 Wetherall, Sir Kdward, 336, 384 
 Wheeler's Entrenchment — I sketch 
 
 it, 276 
 Wounded badly in hot countries, 72 
 Wounded, I am badly, 185 
 Wilde, Col., 258 
 Wilmot, Sir Henry, 388 
 Wilkinson, Lieut., wounded badly, 
 
 66 
 WiUiam III., 2 
 William, Fort, reach, 23, 249 
 Windham, Gen., 321 
 
 At the Redan, 196 
 Wolseley, Staffordshire, i, 2 
 
 Sir Richard, 2 
 
 Sir Charles, 2, 6 
 
 Brig.-Gen. W., 2 
 
 Mount, built, 3 
 
 Mount, burnt, 5 
 Wolves suckle children, 380 
 Work at night in trenches, 179 
 Wounds, horrible, 129 
 
 Vaughan, Col., 25S 
 Vincent, St., 75 
 Vacher. Captain, 116 
 
 Yalta, visit to, 219 
 
 W 
 
 Water, unwholesome, 59 
 Waterloo Day for the assault of 
 
 Sebastopol, 169 
 Well at Cawnpore, 272 
 Welhngton, Death of, 23 
 
 Zouaves, 139 
 
 Enthusiasm at taldng of quarries 
 154 
 
 Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Worlts, Frome, and London. 
 
 398