The Red Year: A Story of the Indian MutinyTracy, Louis
History
The Red Year: A Story of the Indian Mutiny
Tracy, Louis
India -- History -- Sepoy Rebellion, 1857-1858 -- Fiction
This was actually done, but Lawrence was so indignant when he heard of
it that he dissolved the council on June 12 and sent Malcolm and other
officers to recall the sepoys. Five hundred came back, vowing that they
would stand by "Lar-rence-sahib Bahadur" till the last. They kept their
word; they shared the danger and glory of the siege with the 32d and the
British Artillery.
Gubbins, a born firebrand, then pressed his superior to attack a rebel
force that had gathered at the village of Chinhut, ten miles northeast
of Lucknow. Unfortunately Lawrence yielded, marched out with seven
hundred men, half of whom were Europeans, and was badly defeated, owing
to the desertion of some native gunners at a critical moment.
A disastrous rout followed. Colonel Case of the 32d, trying vainly with
his men to stop the native runaways, was shot dead. For three miles the
enemy's horse artillery pelted the helpless troops with grape, and the
massacre of every man in the small column was prevented only by the
bravery of a tiny squadron of volunteer cavalry, which held a bridge
until the harassed infantry were able to cross.
Lawrence, when the day was lost, rode back to prepare the hapless
Europeans in the city for the hazard that now threatened. The investment
of the Residency could not be prevented. It was a question whether the
mutineers would not surge over it in triumph within the hour.
From the windows of the lofty building which gave its name to the
cluster of houses within the walls, the despairing women saw their
exhausted fellow-countrymen fighting a dogged rear-guard action against
twenty times as many rebels. Some poor creatures, straining their eyes
to find in the ranks of the survivors the husband they would never see
again, clasped their children to their breasts and shrieked in agony.
Others, like Lady Inglis, knelt and read the Litany. A few, and among
them was Winifred, ran out with vessels full of water and tended the
wants of the almost choking soldiers who were staggering to the shelter
of the veranda.
She had seen Lawrence gallop to his quarters, and his drawn, haggard
face told her the worst. He was accompanied by two staff officers, but
Malcolm was not with him. The pandemonium that reigned everywhere for
many minutes made it impossible that she should obtain any news of her
lover's fate. While the soldiers were flocking through the narrow
streets that flanked or enfiladed the walls, the native servants and
coolies engaged on the defenses deserted _en masse_. The rebel artillery
was beginning to batter the more exposed buildings; the British guns
already in position took up the challenge; sepoys seized the adjoining
houses and commenced a deadly musketry fire that was far more effective
than the terrifying cannonade; and the men of the garrison who had not
taken part in that fatal sortie rushed to their posts, determined to
stem at all costs the imminent assault of the victorious mutineers.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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