THE SIEGE OF LUCKNOW. (continued 3)

Saturday, November 21st. I rose early, and took home some newspapers that had been lent me, in one of which was an account of poor Mrs. B——'s murder at Hissar. On our return we drew our rations—bread, meat, tea, sugar, rice, dal, and salt—a bountiful supply: I then sent off the coolie to Charlie with a note, and he sent me back a charpoy (bed) and some other things, so I had no longer to sleep on the ground.

Sunday, November 22nd. A quiet day! But we have no service, although there were six Padres in the camp. In the evening, to our joy, we heard the old garrison were leaving Lucknow, and might be with us that night. Mrs. B—— and I sat up till Davie came and told us they could not be here till the next morning.

Monday, November 23rd. Rose early, and went out to enquire for our husbands, and found they had arrived, but were kept in a camp, about a mile off. We waited impatiently till 4 P.M., when Mr. B—— made his appearance; he said he had waited all day, to ask the Brigadier's leave to come up; but the Brigadier had been away himself all day with his wife; so he set off without leave, and met him just returning. About sunset, in came dear Charlie, limping sadly; he was loaded with a sword, carbine, haversack, case bottle, and a stick to help him along; he had gone on the sick list, for his knee was so bad, he did not feel equal to marching. He had tea with us, and then stretched his bedding outside our tent, under the awning of it, so as to escape the dew; but I longed to give him shelter, it was so cold. We packed all ready for starting, as we were to march in the morning; but the hour was kept secret, on account of the enemy.

Tuesday, November 24th. Charlie called us at 6, thinking we should be off early: however, we did not start till noon. All the ladies were ordered to collect in front of the Commander-in-Chief's tents, when all those who had no private carriages, would be stowed away in covered hackeries: the dhoolies were all kept for the sick. We were late, for Mrs. B—— would not leave in her buggy till the Bheestie was ready to accompany her. I mounted my pony, and we tried, with Charlie's assistance, to make our way through long lines of baggage, hackeries, camels, bullocks, &c., &c.; never, I believe, was such a scene! The whole army marched, excepting a few to keep the Dil Kooshe for a short time. There were 1,000 sick carried in dhoolies, and 467 women and children, in any kind of conveyance that could be got for them, added to Sir C——'s whole army, a portion of which consisted of nine batteries: never shall I forget the scene! As far as the eye could reach, on all sides were strings of vehicles, elephants, camels, &c., &c.; and when we were all pitched for the night, our camp extended over seven miles. The dhoolies were all kept for the sick; none were allowed even to ladies who were hourly expecting their confinement: Sir C—— said the wounded men must be first thought of, as they had saved our lives. The dust was overpowering! We went across country to avoid the enemy. Our road was over cultivated fields; such ups and downs! It was a wonder how the vehicles surmounted them. Most of the carriages were drawn by bullocks, as the horses had been too much weakened by the siege to be of any service. Being such tremendous lines, we were frequently stopped by entanglements; and though we had only four or five miles to go, we did not get to our ground till dark. The number of guns with the force added immensely to the number of vehicles accompanying us. As I said before, we had nine batteries, the Naval Brigade included, and the Artillery park and magazine attached is tremendous. There were also innumerable commissariat carts, and many with treasure from Lucknow, the Commander-in-Chief with one division, and General O—— with another. General H—— died this day of dysentery. We heard distant firing all the way, and hoped it was not on the little party left at the Dil Koosha. I could not possibly describe the confusion when we arrived at our encamping ground for the night. I had been obliged to get off my pony, as the sun was so powerful, and get into a hackery, and "squat" down on the straw, like most of the other ladies; but when we got to the ground, we had to hunt about for our baggage, the little we had brought with us. Luckily, Charlie got hold of our baggage hackery, and got down my charpoy for me to sit on; but it was bitterly cold, so that Mrs. B—— took her baby into some officer's tent till her own could be found. We had brought a little bread and meat in a cooking vessel—our day's rations; also tea and sugar. I had purchased some cheese at the Dil Koosha, so Mrs. B——'s Ayah, a Musselmaunee, set to work and boiled the kettle on the ground, and then fried the beef in a little frying pan I had brought, and we had a grand tea: beef, and bread and cheese, and tea with milk and sugar in it. It revived us a little, but poor Charlie seemed quite done up; and poor Mrs. B—— had been nursing her baby all day, without taking anything herself. Luckily, up came Mr. B—— with her camels and tent; he had been searching for them: it was soon pitched, and we were in luxury compared with most; for many poor delicate women and children passed the night on the ground, by the side of their hackeries, and the nights are bitterly cold now. The hackeries were too full for all to lie down in them. Charlie put his bedding partly under the awning of some tent, to escape the dew, which is very heavy; and it is very dangerous sleeping in it.

Wednesday, November 25th. We halted—and really needed it. Charlie drew his own rations, and we had all our meals together, and got on very happily though not in great comfort. Mrs. B——'s Ayah did all the cooking for us, and made some delicious pourries for tea. We went to bed at 8, very tired. Charlie slept this night in a dhoolie.

Thursday, November 26th. We expected an order to march, but did not get it; a party of the 8th Queen's and some Engineers went on ahead to repair the Bunnee bridge for us, so we halted this day also.

Friday, November 27th. An order was given for us to march at 7 A.M., but just as we had prepared everything for starting we were told we were not to go till after breakfast. About 11 we started, and went about thirteen miles, encamping for the night two miles on the Cawnpore side of Bunnee. I was very tired with the jolting of the hackery.

Saturday, November 28th. While we were still in bed, came an order to strike tents and be off; it seemed almost more than one could do: we hurried and dressed, and had a little breakfast, and I was in the hackery by 8! We had tremendous work to get out of the crowd of hackeries starting and get into the line, and it was half-past 9 before we really began our march. We heard very heavy firing at Cawnpore all day, so that the Chief ordered us not to halt at Enown, but march the whole way in to the banks of the river—thirty miles—he himself hurried on to Cawnpore, and it was fortunate he did, for the Gwalior mutineers had been there three days; and this day, the 64th Queen's, returning from spiking some guns, lost 7 or 8 officers; indeed, all that went out with them: and an officer of the 70th had to bring them out of action. I jolted on in my hackney from 8 in the morning till 12 at night, the life almost jolted out of me; luckily we had bread and cheese and a bottle of beer with us. Charlie dragged on his weary way, first walking and then in the hackery, but he was quite done up at last; and yet, when we got to the encamping ground, we were two hours more searching for Mrs. B——'s tent: it was 2 o'clock before I got in. Then, of course, our baggage hackery never arrived till late the next day; so we had to contrive and boil a little water in a lotah, so as to have a cup of tea, and then we lay down,—Charlie outside and I in the tent with Mrs. B——.

Sunday, November 29th. We hoped to be allowed to halt, but an order came that we were to go two miles nearer the river, and to form a very compact camp on account of the enemy. We started again, and got to camp in the middle of the day; had the tent pitched in a nice turfy spot, and were having dinner all comfortably, when another order came that we were to cross the river that night! This was killing work, but we afterwards heard the enemy intended firing on the bridge of boats; luckily, Sir Colin had a battery up close to it, and kept them off. No doubt it was a most anxious time to him—but we did grumble occasionally, as he did not appear to think much of our comfort. Mrs. S—— was confined in her dhoolie while changing ground this morning. At 8 P.M. we started—all the baggage hackeries were to be stopped for us ladies to cross the bridge of boats; but in consequence of some of them having "dodged" into the line, it took us eight hours to do the three miles; fortunately, it was a splendid moonlight night; just as we were on the bridge of boats there was a sudden discharge of musketry, which greatly alarmed us. I thought for certain the enemy were going to attack us, but it turned out to be our own men firing in the entrenchment; we happened to have stuck just at the time, and the bridge of boats is so narrow we could not have escaped. I own I was more frightened this night than any time during the siege; however, we got safely to the Artillery barracks, where we were to halt; some very dirty crannies had taken possession before us. However, we lay down on our bedding which we had brought in the hackery with us and slept till 8 A.M.

Monday, November 30th. We waited on in misery till the tent came up, which was not till late in the day, and then we found the Bheesti, our factotum, had fever, and could not work; however, Charlie managed to get the tent partly up, when another order came to move to some other barracks half a mile off. In the midst of it all, Charlie contrived to hurt his bad knee against a tent-peg. Some started for these new barracks, and we were preparing, when a counter-order came that we were to wait till morning; so we got our tent up, and slept in it.

Tuesday, December 1st. We took our chota hazree, and then went to our new quarters, where we pitched our tent, and made ourselves comfortable, and we were actually allowed to remain in peace for the rest of the day.

Wednesday, December 2nd. We hoped to remain in peace, and the Brigadier asked Charlie what sort of an appointment he would like; but, unluckily, he was totally unfit for work, and so obliged to decline all. About sunset came an order for us to march that night (we had just returned from visiting General W——'s entrenchments), and no gentlemen were to accompany us but Captains E—— and B——. Charlie had not yet got his sick certificate from Dr. C——, so I was in a sad state of mind, fearing we must now separate altogether. We set to work dividing our clothes, &c., as best we could, but we were both excessively tired. I did not lie down till 12, midnight, and then did so fully dressed, expecting every moment to be ordered off. I had a most distracting headache; however, the night passed on, and we did not move.

Thursday, December 3rd. I woke Charlie at daybreak, and he went off to the superintending surgeon, to see if he would sign his papers, and then was told to come at noon: at noon he went, and did not return till 4, when he said he had got his certificate. I was overjoyed. We marched at 10 P.M.; I went in a shigram with a Mrs R——, Charlie seated on the step, and Mr. R—— in front. Charlie guided the blind coolie with my pony all night by holding his stick out to him, and the coolie taking the other end of it. I was more idle, for I slept all night. We went twenty-five miles.

Friday, December 4th. All very fatigued this morning, Mrs. B—— especially. We got a couple of delicious chickens and some eggs for dinner, a treat we had not enjoyed for months. We were ordered to march at 9 P.M. Mr. R—— had had fever all day, so I gave up my place in the shigram to him, and Charlie and I travelled in the hackery. We went thirteen miles this night.

Saturday, December 5th. I felt quite stiff and bruised by the jolting in the hackery. We asked Mr. C—— to bring his rations, and we would cook them with ours, as he had no servants and got hardly anything yesterday; he says the amount of misery experienced by the wounded travelling in the rough hackeries is hardly credible, and many did not get their wounds dressed or have anything to eat the whole day. There is a sad want of servants and management. We started again at 7 P.M., having had our hackery well littered with straw, and went twenty-four miles, not stopping at Futtehpore, which was half way.

Sunday, December 6th. We got to camp about 9 A.M.; the tents were pitched in a nice tope of trees. We were ordered on again at 9 P.M., and had rather a long march; the last mile of it we turned off the trunk road over a rough track to the railroad, of which we knew nothing, as we both slept, and on awakening found ourselves at the temporary terminus.

Monday, December 7th. We hoped to breakfast before we left the ground; but no, we were packed into the railway carriages immediately, and then were kept waiting three hours for the baggage to be loaded. Charlie gave up all hope of being able to accompany us, it was such a time before he could find our baggage and get it into the train; but it was done at last. We took three hours getting to Allahabad, stopping once to water the engine, which in this enlightened country is done by coolies with earthen jars—the apparatus not being in order. We luckily had a bottle of porter and some Native biscuits, so we kept up till we arrived at Allahabad at 3 P.M., where we met with a most unexpected reception, the whole station being lined with gentlemen and soldiers who turned out for the occasion, and cheered us most lustily; it was almost overpowering. They had done everything they could for our comfort; all sorts of vehicles had been lent by their owners to take us from the station to the fort, where a large suite of the Governor-General's tents, about fifteen in number, had been pitched for us. We shared a double-poled tent with Captain and Mrs. R——; it had one public and two private compartments. It was a great luxury to be quiet by ourselves, after the many months we had been herded together. Captain D—— sent us over a splendid dinner. We met Dr. H—— and S—— H—— at the station; all the former could do was to squeeze my hand and say "Poor thing! poor thing!" Our tents were very comfortably furnished; so, after taking tea with the R——'s, we went to bed.

Tuesday, December 8th. It was such luxury to be in bed, and have my chota hazree brought to me, after having had to make it for so many months—almost the whole of the siege—and it was such delicious bread and butter! Mr. S——, the chaplain, and some gentlemen, came round to all the tents, early, bringing cakes of soap for us; and the night before all our tents were supplied with oil lamps. We went over to breakfast in the Mess tent—it was the Governor-General's Durbar tent—a most splendid one, and pitched in the centre of our camp; we had a delicious breakfast—coffee, with rich cream. I enjoyed it much, after our siege fare, and was as pleased as a child to get it. We telegraphed to Capt. P——, in Calcutta, to write home, and say we were all safe. Drs. B—— and H——, and Major T—— called. After this, our days passed quietly at Allahabad. Christmas Day, we dined with Capt. J——, of the Fusiliers; and Monday, January 11th, left Allahabad in country boats, to join the steamers at Sirsa, as none of them could come up higher, on account of the shallow water on the Dum-dumma Flats. We had a narrow escape! As our boat was alongside the Charles Allen, another steamer passed, having several Native boats attached to its flat; one came with great force against ours, and every one expected we were done for, as these Native boats generally crush up and go down instantaneously. There was a cry, "Save the women and children!" and we were dragged up on the top of the paddle-box by our arms; however, our boat did not go down, or we must have gone with it. Captain F——, of the Charles Allen, afterwards told me he had expected to see us go down, and thought the poor creatures had escaped Lucknow only to meet with another horrible death. We had a pleasant trip down the river, and reached Calcutta on Thursday, January 28th. We slept that night on board, and the next morning took up our abode at 3, Harrington Street—one of the houses prepared by the Relief Fund Committee for the Lucknow refugees, where we found everything provided for us in the most luxurious style.