Lawrence had not a very keen sense of humour, but occasionally humour—of a grim sort—broke out from him. A Hindu of some rank advised that a number of monkeys should be collected in the Residency, and be attended and fed by high-caste Brahmins. This would ensure the favour of all the Hindu divinities, and would make the English popular. Lawrence listened gravely, then said, “Your advice is good. Come,” he said, rising and taking his hat, “I will show you my monkeys.” He led the way to a battery which had just been completed; and laying his hand on an 18-pounder gun, said, “See! here is one of my monkeys. That”—pointing to a pile of shot—“is his food, and this”—laying his hand on the shoulder of a sentry of the 32nd, who stood at attention close by—“is the man who feeds them. Now go and tell your friends of my monkeys!” The serene quality of Lawrence’s courage is shown by a letter he writes to Raikes on May 30: “We are pretty jolly ... but we are in a funny position.... We are virtually besieging four regiments—in a quiet way—with 300 Europeans. I ... reside in cantonments guarded by the gentlemen we are besieging.” That very night, as it happened, the outbreak came! On the last day of June the disastrous fight at Chinhut brought affairs at Lucknow to a crisis. The revolted regiments from Eastern Oude were marching on Lucknow, and Lawrence, acting on the one principle of British war in India—of striking and never waiting to be struck—marched out to crush the approaching mutinous regiments. His little force consisted of 300 of the 32nd, 230 more or less loyal Sepoys, 36 British volunteers on horseback, 120 native cavalry, and 10 guns, of which six were manned by Sepoys. There was grave doubt as to how the native artillery would behave; but Lawrence said, “We must try and ‘blood’ them.” As it happened, Lawrence was completely deceived as to the strength of the enemy. He reckoned they might number 5000; they were nearer 15,000, with not less than thirty guns. By some accident, too, the 32nd were marched out without having broken their fast, and, marching eight miles under the glare of an Indian sun, were exhausted before they fired a shot.