September 26th, 1857
HAVELOCK had determined, when he started in the morning,①to relieve the anxiously-waiting garrisonthat night, or notsurvive the attempt; and the soldiers, who at first were glad toobtain a moment"s rest, became impatient at delay. They had fought their way for nearly a hundred miles to rescue their beleaguered comrades with their wives and children, and they could not rest till they thundered at the gates of their prison.
The garrison in the meantime were anxiously listening for their arrival. They had heard the heavy firing in the morning, and noticed that there was a great sensation in the city. Towards noon they could see the smoke of battle as it rolled upwards over the houses; and, a little later, people hurrying out of the city, carrying bundles of clothes on their heads, followed by large bodies of cavalry and infantry. Although the enemy kept up a steady fire upon them, they were too excited to pay much heed to it, but listened with beating hearts to the heavy cannonade as it wound hither and thither through the streets.
By four o"clock some officers on the look-out reported that they saw, far away, near a palace, a regiment of Europeans and a bullock battery. Soon after, the rattle of musketry was heard in the streets. While they stood listening, a rifle ball went whistling over their heads, and never before was the sound of a bullet so sweet to the ear. It was a voice from their friends, and whispered of deliverance. Five minutes later, and the Highlanders were seen storming through one of the principal streets; and although they dropped rapidly, under the fire from roofs, windows, and doors, there was no faltering.
Then the long restrained excitement burst forth in cheerupon cheer-"from every fort, trench, and battery-from behind sand-bags piled on shattered houses-from every post still held by a few gallant spirits, rose cheer on cheer." The thrilling shouts penetrated even to the hospital, and the wounded crept out into the sun, a ghastly throng, and sent up their feeble voices to swell the glad shout of welcome!
The conversation between Outram and Havelock② waslong and earnest. The former was at first firm in his opinion that they should remain in the palace-court and other sheltered places till morning, and Havelock as thoroughly determined to push on. He said that the garrison might even then be exposed to the final assault; and if it were not, that the enemy could concentrate such a force around them before morning that it would be almost impossible to advance. At length it was agreed to leave the wounded, the heavy guns, and a portion of the army behind, and with only two regiments, the 78th Highlanders and③the Sikhs,to attempt to reach the Residency.
Outram had been wounded in the arm by a musket-ball early in the morning; but, though faint from loss of blood, he refused to leave the saddle, and even now would not dismount. Enduring as he was bold and chivalric, he resolved to accompany Havelock, and share with him the danger, and, if need be, death, in this last perilous advance to the relief of the garrison.
Everything being ready, these two gallant commanders put themselves at the head of the slender column, and moved out of the place of shelter. As soon as they entered the street, the houses on either side shot forth flame; while, to prevent the rapid advance of the troops, and hold them longer under the muzzles of their muskets, the enemy had cut deep trenches across the street, and piled up barricades.
Passing under an archway that streamed with fire, the④gallant Neillfell from his horse-dead. His enraged followershalted a moment to avenge his death; but the stern order of Havelock, "Forward!" arrested their useless attempt, andthe column moved on. Each street as they entered it became an avenue of flame, through which it seemed impossible for anything living to pass. Every door and window was ablaze, while an incessant sheet of fire ran along the margin of the flat roofs, which were black with men.