The End is Approaching

While Wheeler still clung to the hope of reinforcements, amid the misery, one lone horseman was seen approaching the entrenchment. Mistaken for a sowar, the men opened fire on him as he put spurs to his horse and jumped over the wall. It was Lieutenant Bolton of the 7th Cavalry.
He had been sent out from Lucknow with a detachment of the 46th BNI and a few men of his own regiment to keep the Fathegarh-Cawnpore road open. To no avail. The men mutinied, and the few officers present were forced to flee. Captain Burmester was shot, and Bolton and Major Staples managed to turn their horses, but the pursuit was relentless. Staples was shot in his saddle and cut to pieces on the ground while Bolton, with a shot through the cheek, rode towards Cawnpore. After 16 miles, the chase ended – Bolton managed to pass through the Nana’s camp under cover of darkness but, unsure of where he was, spent the rest of the night in an open field. At dawn, seeing he was none too far from the entrenchment, he decided it was his only chance. Surprising the insurgents and the garrison alike, Bolton rode for his life. Despite his wound, he joined Jenkin’s outpost and would die in the boats.

“It may easily be imagined, that by this time our Barracks were so perfectly riddled as to afford little or no shelter, yet the greater portion of the people preferred remaining in them, than to be exposed to the heat of the sun outside, although a great many made themselves holes under the walls of the entrenchment, covered over with boxes, cots, &c,; in these with their wives and children, they were secure at least from the shots and shells of the enemy, though not so from the effects of the heat; and the mortality from apoplexy was considerable. At night, however, every person had to sleep out and take the watch on their turns so that nearly the Whole of the women and children also slept under the walls of the entrenchment, near their respective relatives. Here, the bomb-shells kept them in perpetual dread, for nearly all night, these shells were seen coming in the air and bursting in different places, often doing mischief. Thus, the existence of those that remained alive was spent in perpetual dread and fear...The stench also from the dead bodies of horses and other animals that had been shot in the compound, and could not be removed, as also the unusually great influx of flies, rendered the place extremely disagreeable.”

On the anniversary of the Battle of Plassey, the 23rd of June, and a day deemed auspicious by the insurgents, the final assault on Wheeler’s Entrenchment began. On the night of the 22nd, the insurgents made a half-hearted attempt to storm Thomson’s position in Barrack No. 2. Worried by the ever-gathering numbers of sepoys, Thomson sent a message over to Moore for reinforcements but received the expected reply of “Not one could be spared.” Ever up for the fight, Moore himself, accompanied by Lieutenant Delafosse, suddenly made their appearance. Moore had a plan.

“ Thomson, I think I shall try a new dodge; we are going out into the open, and I shall give the word of command as though our party were about to commence an attack.” Forthwith they sallied out, Moore with a sword — Delafosse with an empty musket. The captain vociferated to the winds,
“ Number one to the front.” And hundreds of ammunition pouches rattled on the bayonet sheaths as our courageous foes vaulted out from the cover afforded by heaps of rubbish and rushed into the safer quarters presented by the barrack walls. We followed them with a vigorous salute, and as they did not show fight just then, we had a hearty laugh at the ingenuity which had devised, and the courage which had executed, this successful feint. The whole of that night witnessed a series of surprises and false charges upon our barrack, and not a man of us left his post for an instant.”

By dawn, the insurgents decided to try again. Thomson, relieved by a cavalry cadet named Mainwaring, had taken a moment to close his eyes, but there would be no time for sleep.
Mainwaring shouted, “Here they come!” They advanced close up to the doorway of our barrack, which in consequence of the floor not being down, presented brickwork breast high, but had no door. They had never before shown so much pluck. Mainwaring’s revolver despatched two or three; Stirling, with an Enfield rifle, shot one and bayoneted another; both charges of my double-barrelled gun were emptied, and not in vain. We were seventeen of us were inside that barrack, and they left eighteen corpses lying outside the doorway. An attack on the intrenchment was simultaneous with that on both of our barracks. They surrounded the wall on all sides, and in every style of uniform, regular and irregular, both cavalry and infantry, together with horse and bullock batteries of field artillery, sent out as skirmishers. Their cavalry started upon the charge from the riding-school, and in their impetuosity, or through the ignorance of their leader, came all the way at a hand-gallop, so that when they neared the intrenchinent their horses were winded, and a round from our guns threw their ranks into hopeless confusion, and all who were not biting the dust wheeled round and retired. They had started with the intention of killing us all, or dying in the attempt, and oaths had been administered to the principal men among them to insure their fidelity to that purpose, as well as to stimulate their courage and determination, but all the appliances employed were of none effect so soon as one of our batteries lodged a charge of grape in their midst. One very singular expedient that they adopted upon this occasion to cover their skirmishers from our fire was the following: they rolled before them great bales of cotton, and under the effectual security which it seemed to present from being struck by our shots, they managed to approach ominously near to our walls. The well-directed fire from the batteries presently set light to some of these novel defences, and panic-struck the skirmishers retreated, before their main had shown signs of advance.”

In the evening, a party of sepoys approached the entrenchment and asked Thomson if they could remove their dead. The attack had failed, but the siege continued. Following the 23rd of June, the usual work continued at the outposts – expelling any insurgents who had settled themselves in the unfinished barracks to check for possible attacks. As Thomson and Captain Jenkins returned from the sortie, they passed by a sepoy they mistook for dead. To their surprise, the man raised himself up and shot Jenkins through the jaw. Thomson shot the man and then, grasping his friend, took him back into the entrenchment. The doctor could do nothing, with no instruments to remove the fragments, no means of dulling the pain or even of feeding the poor man. Jenkins died of dehydration and infection. His duties were passed on to Captain Moore.

Without shelter for the women and children, no medicine to treat the sick or instruments to aid the wounded, with food rapidly running out, General Wheeler sent one last message to Lucknow on the 24th of June.

“Since the last details, we have had a bombardment in this miserable position three or four times daily; now nineteen days exposed to two twenty-fours, and eight other guns of smaller calibre, and three mortars. To reply with three nines is, you know, out of the question; neither would our ammunition permit it. All our gun carriages are more or less disabled; ammunition short. British spirit alone remains, but it cannot last forever. Yesterday morning, they attempted their most formidable assault but dared not come on. And after the above three hours in the trenches, cheering on the men, I returned to the Fort to find my favourite darling son killed by a nine-pounder in the room with his mother and sisters. He was not able to accompany me, having been fearfully crippled by a severe contusion. The cannonade was tremendous…
I venture to assert such a position, so defended, has no example, but cruel has been the evil. We have no instruments, no medicine; provisions for ten days at furthest, and no possibility of getting any, as communication with the town is cut off. Railway men and merchants have swollen our ranks to what they are (we had but two hundred and twenty soldiers to begin with), and the casualties have been numerous. The railroad men have done excellent service, but neither they nor I can last forever. We have lost everything belonging to us, and have not even a change of linen. Surely we are not to die like rats in a cage.”

Two days later, the garrison surrendered to the Nana Sahib.

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