When the gallant Havelock effected his entrance into Lucknow on the 25th of September, 1857, a considerable number of our wounded men who were being conveyed in “doolies,” or hospital litters, were left behind near the Motee Munzil under the charge of a military escort. As soon as the army of rescue had made good its position in the Residency, General Outram, who had assumed the command, despatched a party of 250 men to effect a junction with Colonel Campbell, of the 90th, and to assist him in bringing in the wounded. They ultimately succeeded in this object, but some idea of the dangers they had to encounter may be formed from the following narrative. The doolies containing the wounded remained during the night of the 25th of September in the passage in front of the Motee Munzil Palace without attracting the notice of the enemy. On the morning of the 26th the mutineers opened fire upon them, and numbers were killed by the shot and shells. The surgeons in charge of the wounded behaved with the greatest coolness and courage. One of them, an assistant-surgeon in the artillery, requested one of his brother officers to assist him in an operation. On their way to the spot they were exposed to a constant fire. “Well, Bartrum,” said one of them, “I wish I could see my way out of this.” “Oh,” said the other, “there is no danger whatever.” The words had scarcely passed the lips of the assistant-surgeon when he was shot down. Two minutes before he was speaking of his wife and child, and the pleasure he would have in meeting them in the Residency. They were destined never to meet in this world. The position of the wounded now became critical; they were separated from the main body of the army by about a mile; they were surrounded on all sides by the enemy; their only hope of safety lay in forcing their way to the intrenched camp.