The Battles Commence

The Battle of Unnao

At daybreak on the 29th of July, Havelock marched his men to meet the rebels. After marching three miles, they sighted the advance picquets of the rebels in a village adjoining the town of Unnao. The position itself was formidable. The right flank was protected by a swamp, the advance was drawn up in a garden enclosure, protected by walls which resembled a bastion, while the rest of the advanced force was posted in and behind the village, the houses of which had been loopholed. Adding to these obstructions, the passage between the village and the town of Unnao was very narrow, with the town extending three-quarters of a mile to Havelock’s right. Due to the rains, the surrounding countryside was flooded, so this avenue of attack was closed off to him, while the left was an impassable swamp. To complete their defence, the rebels had placed their batteries on the road to pour a concentrated fire on Havelock’s advance. Turning the position was impossible, but it would be sheer murder to attack it from the front. But if he was to take the town, it was the only option left open to Sir Henry.
When the last of the reconnoitring party had returned, Havelock gave his orders.
Covering his main body with skirmishers, all armed with Enfield rifles, they were to open heavy fire on the most advanced of the rebel positions. The three guns positioned on the road were soon silenced, two of Maude’s field-pieces allowing Havelock to move forward. The bastioned enclosure was soon carried by the 78th Highlanders and the Madras Fusiliers, but
“As he came nearer, a long line of white puffs of smoke was seen to run along the orchard and garden wall that surrounded the place, followed by a sharp rattle of musketry.”
The rebels had fallen back to the loopholed houses. The fire unleashed on the advancing troops was devastating. Havelock called up the 64th, who, under Colonel Wilson, at the point of the bayonet, cleared each house with deadly effect. The troops then rushed the village, but could not carry it – the rebels had been beaten back, but they were not defeated. Impatient with the protracted resistance, Havelock found the only option left was to burn the place to the ground. The artillery was ordered back, and the thatched roofs were set on fire while marksmen, with their rifles cocked, waited ready to pick off anyone who fled the flames.
So should it have ended had not a field engineer, sent out to reconnoitre on the other side, not come galloping back to Havelock with the news that the rebels, some 6000 strong, were rapidly advancing on Oonao, determined to take the place. Leaving the last work of destruction to the Sikhs, Havelock ordered the troops to march around to the right and turn the position. The infantry formed up and moved off, but the fields, being soaked with the monsoon rain, were nigh impossible for the artillery to pass through. The guns sank up to their axles in the soft mud, leaving the men with no option but to try and lift them out, leaving themselves exposed to rebel fire from the remaining loopholed houses. When they finally all emerged from the mud, it became clear why Havelock had ordered the move. They found a vast plain spread out before them, half covered with water, but through it ran a high dry road on which they could see the army of 6000 marching on them, drums and trumpets playing, the sun glittering off the thousands of swords carried by the swarms of cavalry, and the long lines of bayonets “undulating over the submerged fields…” As Havelock’s small force emerged from the grove of trees they had taken cover in, their numerical weakness was all too clear to the rebels.

“But the small thin line he presented against the imposing masses of the enemy, instead of disheartening the British troops, was received by them as an excellent joke and served only to awaken mirth and laughter. Their only feeling of regret was that they had no cavalry to follow up the rascals after they had soundly beaten them.”

It was the first time the rebel army had drawn up to meet the British in the open – a superior force that had until now been fighting behind walls and defences. Havelock drew up his force in line with four guns in the centre and two on each wing, each one bearing on the high road in front. He then waited to see what the rebels would do next – they marched on, in some confusion, but steadily advancing. They halted a 1000 yards in front of Havelock, and he unleashed his artillery straight into their ranks. As they started to retreat, Havelock pushed forward with 2 guns and his skirmishers, standing as they were knee-deep in water, opened fire. The move stopped them – not quite dead in their tracks, but near enough. The rebels attempted to deploy, but to their horror, they found themselves closed in on both sides by swamps. Their horses bucked, and their guns sank in the mud as the infantry floundered in the marches, all the while Havelock continued to pour volley after volley into the struggling mass. If he was expecting them to make a straight rush, Havelock was mistaken – it was the only move that could have saved them, and they did not take it. Off to their right, Havelock’s skirmishers continued to fire into the men in the marshes while the rebel cavalry recovered the composure enough to flee without a single advance. The only men left standing to the end were those of the artillery who stood by their guns to the last.
For the next three hours, Havelock pursued the rebels, causing as much havoc in their scattered ranks as he could; finally, he called a halt. He had captured 15 guns, none of which he could take with him due to the lack of conveyance – these were ordered destroyed, and the men, exhausted from the fight, fell out, the wounded were tended to, and the dead collected. The battle had cost the rebels only 300 killed, but it was a shameful waste; had they employed any tactics at all, it should have been the end of Havelock’s army. They continued their flight towards Basharatganj, six miles distant.
Havelock, meanwhile, rested his men for the next three hours. The bugles sounded, and the men fell into their ranks. The day was not over yet, and the rebels would meet Havelock again.

The Battle of Basharatganj

Basharatganj was a walled town surrounded by a water-filled moat. The main gate was defended by a high round tower upon which were mounted four cannons. It was further defended by an earthwork, a trench and flanked on each side by turrets, which, like the walls, were loopholed. The gate was further covered by a large building that lay within the town itself. Behind the town was a jheel or a marsh, some 150 yards in width and seven feet deep, which could only be crossed by a single bridge – it then led to a causeway beyond that passed through the flooded fields. Here, the rebels had rallied. The town was intersected by the high road to Lucknow. It was this formidable position that Havelock intended to carry.
A frontal assault was out of the question – even if it had succeeded, Havelock had neither the men nor the means to carry it off. Instead, he directed the 64th march around the town to the left and “interpose itself” between the rear gate and the causeway. The three guns he had posted on the high road were now ordered to open fire on the earthwork and the front gate, while Havelock directed a converging fire to commence on the same point from the other guns on his right and left. As soon as the work of the guns began to tell on the defences and the 64th had reached their position, the 78th Highlanders and the Madras Fusiliers were to storm the gateway, while the 84th and the Sikhs were to stand at the ready to support either as a storming or a turning party, depending on how well the plan was carried off.
The advance of the Highlanders and the Madras Fusiliers was greeted by heavy firing from the rebel guns – the men were ordered to lie down, while Havelock’s guns plied into the defences. As the rebel fire began to slacken, the two corps received the order to rise and, with a shout, rushed the gate.
Bewildered by the suddenness of the charge and the unexpected flank movement of the 64th, the rebels abandoned their guns – instead of making a stand or even a charge, they fled, broken and confused, through the back gate and over the bridge, where the 64th was supposed to be waiting to pursue them straight to the causeway and beyond. Havelock had expected the 64th to continue the advance and wreak havoc on the retreating rebels – instead, annoyed by firing from the walls, they stopped to return it and then, acting on orders which were either misunderstood or simply never reached them, the 64th stopped their advance, allowing the rebels to leave Basharatganj with minimal losses. By the time Havelock’s ADC had hastened to their line to push forward the advance, the opportunity had been lost. However, even without the final movement of the 64th, Havelock had won Basharatganj before sunset.
Although he did not allow his men to pursue the rebels any further, the light was fading rapidly, and only Havelock himself rode out to find a position for his advanced cavalry post. As he returned by the causeway,

“…the weary soldiers who were grouped on it, leaning on their arms, suddenly caught a glimpse of him, and in an instant, there was an enthusiastic shout through their ranks, ‘“ ‘Clear the way for the General !” A bright smile stole over the stern features of the old chief as he exclaimed, “ You have done that well already, men. ” This unexpected compliment electrified the troops, and as his form gradually disappeared, ‘God bless the General !‘ burst from a hundred lips.“

That night, as the troops bivouacked for the night between the town and the causeway, General Havelock retired to his tent to pen the following order of the day, which was read out the next morning to the men.

“Soldiers, your General thanks you for your exertions today. You have stormed two fortified villages and captured nineteen guns. But he is not satisfied with all of you. Some of you fought as if the cholera had seized your minds as well as your bodies. There were men among you, however, whom he must praise to the skies.
Private Patrick Cavanagh, of the 64th, died gloriously, hacked to pieces by the enemy when setting a brilliant example to his comrades. Had he survived, he should have worn the Victoria Cross, which never could have glittered on a braver breast. But his name will be remembered as long as Ireland produces and loves gallant soldiers.
“ Lieut. Bogle, 78th Highlanders, was severely wounded while leading the way at Onao into a loopholed house filled with desperate fanatics. A special report of his gallantry will be sent to His Royal Highness the Commander-in-Chief. The hero of Inkermann well knows how to appreciate heroes.
“ Major Stephenson, in command of the regiment which the rebel chiefs know and fear as the Blue Caps,’ showed throughout the day how the calmest forethought can be united with the utmost daring.
“ Lieut. Dangerfield has merited the cross reserved for the brave. He was the first to mount the barricade at this place .”

For a second time, he had won two battles in one day, but they were but small victories when he reckoned what was still ahead of him. He had succeeded in routing the rebels but not defeating them – during both engagements, a large body of troops had been seen hovering in the distance, watching and not taking part. And the report which reached Havelock now was that they had been reinforced by troops collected by the Nana Sahib at Fatehpur. The mutineers from Dinapore were presenting a considerable threat to the rear of his position. A third of his gun ammunition had been used up in the attacks of Unnao and Basharatganj, while Lucknow was still 36 miles distant. His losses were 12 killed and 76 wounded, and as many were hors de combat from cholera, dysentery and fatigue. All the doolies and carriages were filled with the invalids – it was impossible, Havelock knew, to advance without proper conveyance for the wounded he would surely incur if he continued his march unless he abandoned the invalids he had now, on the road, leaving them to certain death. In all his force, after deducting the necessary amount for guards, he could muster no more than 850 infantry. Even if he could bring that many into line the next morning, what of the day after and if he succeeded, above hope, in reaching Lucknow, what sort of a success would it truly be? In a telegram, Havelock was to be sent to the Commander-in-Chief, Fraser-Tytler wrote,
“We could not hope to reach Lakhnao with six hundred effective Europeans; we had then to pass the canal, and force one and a half mile of streets.” Fraser-Tytler himself was so ill he could barely stay in his saddle, much less pen a longer missive – his steel will to do his duty was all he had left.
Havelock’s only option was to fall back on Mangalwar, send his sick and wounded to Cawnpore and then wait for whatever reinforcements were to come his way. Lucknow, he had been assured, though still beleaguered, was not under any threat of starvation – their situation was grim but not hopeless; they could hold out a little longer.
The next morning, as he visited the sick and wounded, Havelock made up his mind to retreat.
As for William Groom, fatigue was starting to give way to irritation.

“The General says that he intends to make a splendid report of the regiment for the way in which we skirmish in the morning and evening. Very gratifying, but we all begin to wish that a small share of the work might be given to the 64th and 84th. The 78th and ourselves had it all our own way as usual yesterday, and the fatigue of four or five hours, skirmishing knee-deep in mud and water with a Bengal July sun overhead is not small. The enemy’s cavalry, as usual, did nothing. They seem regular hounds. I had several narrow escapes yesterday, but by God’s mercy was spared all harm. We shall, in all probability, have one fight tomorrow or tonight, and an awful scrimmage at Lucknow, of course, and then I hope we may return to Cawnpore.”

They would return to Cawnpore sooner than he thought. On the afternoon of the 30th of July, Havelock ordered his men to march back to Unnao. To save them from any more fatigue, the men rested the night in the self-same place they had just won a victory and the next day, on the 31st of July, moved on back to Mungalwar. From here, Havelock dispatched his sick and wounded back Cawnpore and wrote to Neill requesting as many reinforcements as he could spare without weakening his own position.

Neill was not impressed by the old gentleman. He had been left behind, seething, in Cawnpore, manning an entrenchment he felt was poorly chosen, the camp pitched without any “method or arrangement” and he was left with 250 men, mostly invalids, to re-establish control of the city. If Cawnpore was his only problem, Neill might have looked a fool. However, he was aware that 24 miles away, the Nana Sahib was threatening to cross the river and attack him; the mutinous 42nd Regiment had encamped eight miles from Cawnpore and other regiments were gradually collecting on the right bank of the river. However troubling the reports were, Neill still stoutly believed he could deal the 42nd “a blow that will astound them.” As for the levies of the Nana Sahib, Neill was quick to act.
On the 31st of July, he despatched a party of 50 Madras Fusiliers and 25 Sikhs with two 6-pounders, a 5 1/2 inch mortar with 6 gunners, all under the command of his ADC, Captain John Gordon (of the 6th Regt BNI). Embarking on the river steamer, they sailed 22 miles north-west of Onnao, to Jajamao, on the Oudh side of the river to seize all the boats the Nana Sahib had intended to use to ferry a crossing over the river, and after destroying several, they took command of the remaining seven and returned to Cawnpore the next day. If the Nana Sahib was planning to get across the river, in Neill’s estimation, he would be better off learning how to swim before the brigadier-general would give him an inch.

As for reinforcements, they were trickling slowly into Cawnpore. Daily, Neill was expecting half a battery under Hellfire Jack Olpherts, but with a singular lack of gunpowder, he was unsure how useful they would be. Gunpowder was on the way but it would take another 2 weeks to arrive. To make matters worse, General Wilson, on the Delhi Ridge, was contemplating abandoning his position altogether and falling back on Karnal, which would free an almost irrepressible tide of mutineers on Oudh. The last thing Neill needed now was Havelock falling back and his bleating for reinforcements was becoming tiresome.
The first letter he received on the 31st, Havelock had merely asked for a thousand European infantry and another battery of guns while the second changed it to all the Europeans he could spare and and half a battery. While Neill read this rather perplexing letter, information came in that Havelock had in fact captured 15 guns but had had to destroy them for want of carriage. With his patience for Havelock all but gone, Neill, who had been asked to communicate unreservedly with Havelock through his staff, decided to write “unreservedly direct” to Havelock himself.
“I late last night received yours of 6 p.m. yesterday. I deeply regret you have fallen back one foot. The effect on our prestige is very bad indeed. Your camp was not pitched yesterday before all manner of reports were rife in the city—that you had returned to get more guns, having lost all you took away
with you. In fact, the belief amongst all is that you have been defeated and forced back. It has been most unfortunate your not bringing any guns captured from the enemy. The natives will not believe that you have captured one. The effect of your retrograde movement will be very injurious to our cause everywhere, and bring down upon us many who would otherwise have held off, or even sided with us. The troops at Gwaliar have marched, whether to this or Agra is not yet known. The troops collected at Fathgarh will very soon follow. They are now joined by the 42nd N.I., which have passed on. I could not move out and intercept them You talk of advancing as soon as reinforcements reach you. You require a battery and a thousand European infantry. As regards the battery, half of Olpherts’s will be in this morning; the other half started yesterday or today from Allahabad. This will detain you five or six days more. As for the infantry you require they are not to be had, and if you are to wait for them Lakhnao will follow the fate of Kanhpur. Agra will be invested: this place also: the city will be occupied by the enemy. I have no troops to keep them out, and we will be starved out. You ought not to remain a day where you are. When the iron guns are sent to you, also the half-battery, and the company of the 84:th escorting it, you ought to advance again, and not halt until you have rescued, if possible, the garrison of Lakhnao. Return here sharp, for there is much to be done between this and Agra and Dehli.”

In his reply, to what Havelock described as the “most the most extraordinary letter he had ever
perused,” he went on to write, “There must be an end to these proceedings at once. I wrote to you confidentially on the state of affairs. You send me back a letter of censure of my measures, reproof and advice for the future. I do not want and will not receive any of them from an officer under my command, be his experience what it may. Understand this distinctly, and that a consideration of the obstruction that would arise to the public service at this moment alone prevents me from taking the stronger step of placing you under arrest. You now stand warned. Attempt no further dictation. I have my own reasons, which I will not communicate to anyone, and I alone am responsible for the course which I have pursued.”

Havelock then determined to let the matter drop. In Calcutta, Sir Patrick Grant, still acting as Commander-in-Chief, pronounced Havelock’s reply as “perfectly unexceptionable” and Neill had to accept the rebuke.

On the 3rd of August Havelock received his reinforcements – Olphert’s half-battery (three-horsed 9-pounders and two 24-pounders), a detachment of the 84th and a company of the 78th bringing his force up to 1400 men. Havelock had hoped the 5th Fusiliers and the 90th Light Infantry would be pushed onto Cawnpore but the government had been caught with their proverbial trousers down when the mutiny occurred at Dinapore, having not taken the precaution to disarm the native regiments at that place in June as advised by Mr. Tayler, trusting instead in the judgement of Brigadier-General Lloyd, with all the disastrous consequences for Bihar that their lack of judgement entailed.