The beginning of the end of the operations at Lucknow started with the capture of the Kaiser Bagh. Except for the Maulvi of Faizabad, who decided to come back for an encore, the insurgents were now on the run, though not as thoroughly chased as the troops at Lucknow would have liked. Sir Colin Campbell had denied Sir James Outram the right to put an end to things by issuing one of the strangest orders of the mutiny. Stating Sir James could only follow in pursuit if he could assure the Commander-in-Chief he would not lose a single man, it was an absurd premise, even for a commander as cautious as Campbell. As such, the rebels were allowed to regroup variously over the next months, drawing the rebellion onwards well into the summer months in guerrilla-style warfare.
However, before we can begin exploring those particular events, we shall remain in Lucknow and follow the exploits of four cavalrymen, three of the 9th Lancers no less, and their most remarkable deeds of valour. For this, we must return to the 6th of March; we are on the right side of the Gumti, and there is a chase on.
The 9th Lancers, at this time, had already been in India since 1842. They had gained their laurels for the Sikh Wars, which included the Battle Honours “Punjab, 1848-49”, “Chillianwallah” and “Goojerat.” Two men who had been through it all were Major Henry Ouvry and Major Octavius Anson, albeit the former was then serving with the 3rd Dragoons and exchanged to the Lancers in 1854; when the mutiny broke out in 1857, their regiment was at Ambala. Unfortunately, Ouvry was not present at Lucknow in 1858, having received his sick certificate in December; it would also be the last time Octavius Anson would perform active duty, and thus, we lost both of the mutiny chroniclers of the Indian Mutiny for the 9th Lancers.
The Lancers feature prominently throughout the mutiny – from the early action at Badli-Ki-Serai to the Siege of Delhi, where they earned the sobriquet, The Delhi Spearmen. They continued their ride from Delhi to Agra, right through Lucknow and back again; following March 1858, their duties would take them further afield, as the mutiny continued to sputter. When they finally left India in 1859, they were given the unique honour of a 21-gun salute as their ship sailed away. They were the only regiment to be present at all three major theatres of the war: the Siege of Delhi and the relief and capture of Lucknow, winning in all twelve Victoria Crosses. The Lancers were considered “the beau ideal of how all the British Cavalry ought to be in Oriental countries,” and during the mutiny, equally feared and admired by all who saw them.
Lance Corporal William Goate, H.M’s 9th Lancers
In a village called Fritton in Norfolk, on the 12th of January 1836, John and Lucy Goate welcomed their son William into the fold. It was a large family – by the time of John’s sudden death, William, then aged five, had ten siblings. The burden on his mother was dire, and William left school to follow in his late father’s footsteps to work on the family farm. His story might have ended here, and we may never have heard of William Goate, VC, had it not been for his exceptional talent in handling horses. At the age of 17, in 1853, he took his chance and decided to enlist in the army; it made the most sense for him to join the 9th Lancers.
By the time William Goate with the Lancers arrived before Lucknow for the second time, they had already spent nearly ten months fighting, and even their youngest men in their ranks were by now seasoned warriors; it is therefore hardly surprising that Goate took such an astonishing decision on the 6th of March.
It all began early in the morning when Sir James Outram and his substantial force of all arms crossed the cask bridge over the Gumti to begin operations on the right side of the river. The crossing had taken longer than anticipated, and it took the rather forceful arrival of Sir Colin Campbell shortly before sunrise to push them along. Rightly fearing that if the crossing was not completed before the sun came up, the rebels would take wind of his plans and set everything on its head. As it was, the crossing was completed without incident, and Sir James Outram, taking his place in the front, with his force drawn up in three lines, with the cavalry in the fore, began his advance.
Without any warning, the rebels suddenly put in an appearance on his left flank, chiefly consisting of cavalry troopers. As Anson noted, the British cavalry was not supposed to act on the offensive but protect the guns, which “were banging away all down the line.” However, this was not a time to be on the defensive either. Sir James Outram ordered the 2nd Punjab Cavalry to break off and take the rebels from the right, while two squadrons of the Queen’s Bays, one of the 9th Lancers, with a troop of Horse Artillery took the left. It was a little too much for the rebel cavalry, who changed their minds about the whole venture, turned and fled, but they had the Lancers and the over-enthusiastic Bays on their heels. It was an exhilarating chase as they began their work of
“… cutting down all they passed with their long flashing swords. The Bays, who led, were young soldiers
who had never known the excitement of battle, and intoxicated with blood, rode at breakneck speed. In small groups of twos and threes, their ranks broken by the rugged nature of the ground, they reached the infantry posts of the enemy. Percy Smith, their gallant leader, and two troopers were shot dead; several were wounded.”
Smith, who had rashly gone well ahead of his men, was shot through the heart, and his body fell to the ground. Although it was clear Smith was dead, it would not do to leave him behind; Goate had most likely witnessed firsthand at Delhi what happened to British dead, and he was determined to save Smith the indignity of being hacked to pieces. He dismounted his horse, and under a perfect storm of bullets, with the rebel sowars rapidly closing in, hoisted Smith’s body on his back and tried to take it from the field. The first attempt failed; Cornet Sneyd rushed up and made the same effort, but was forced to retreat, so Goate tried a second time. There was nothing for it – in imminent peril, Goate was forced to abandon Smith. The body was left on the field only to be found two days later, horribly hacked about and missing not only its limbs but also its head. It later transpired that the rebels believed the man they had killed was none other than Sir Colin Campbell and had given the corpse what they felt was its just dues.
Of the feat itself, William Goate would later say,
“It was on the 6th March that I won the Cross in action at Lucknow, having dismounted in the presence of the enemy and taken up the body of Major Percy Smith, 2nd Dragoon Guards, which I attempted to bring off the field, and after being obliged to relinquish it, being surrounded by the enemy’s cavalry, going a second time, under a heavy fire, to recover the body, for which I received the Victoria Cross.” He came back to his regiment to the heartiest congratulations of not only from Sir Hope Grant and the other officers who had witnessed his valour, but Sir Colin Campbell himself. Goate was gazetted on the 24th of December 1858. He remained in India with the Lancers until they set sail for home in 1859, and on 4th January 1860, he was invested with the Victoria Cross by the Queen at Windsor Castle.
The Indian Mutiny did take its toll on the men who had served through the campaigns – by the time Goate received his medal, Anson was already dead; in November 1864, Goate was discharged as medically unfit. Only 28 years old, Goate returned to Norfolk with the intention of returning to farming, but with agriculture now in rapid decline, he tried his hand as a railway porter and then as a warehouseman. Neither job lasted long, and Goate, a married man with a young son, moved to Jarrow-on-Tyne, where he worked for the next 22 years at Palmer’s shipbuilders, while doing service (for 18 years) as a Lance Corporal in the Jarrow Company of Volunteers. In 1900, out of work and sick, he moved to Southsea, where his son had settled. William Goate died one year later of gastric cancer and was buried in a commoner’s grave. The grave would be reused twice in the coming years, and on no occasion was a stone erected to mark Goate’s last resting place. It would not be until 2003, after tireless work by researchers, that it was finally located. A headstone was placed over William’s grave, unveiled in 2003 by the Lord Mayor of Southsea.
The 19th of March – Musa Bagh
The 19th of March would be a day for the cavalry, but it was not necessarily a good one. The rebels who had decided to remain in the vicinity of Lucknow had taken up a strong position at Musa Bagh, a house and garden on the city’s outskirts. Two infantry divisions under Sir James Outram were dispatched to attack them from the front, while Brigadier Campbell, with a brigade of infantry, a few guns and 1500 cavalry, was supposed to be on the left front to “pitch into them” when the insurgents began their retreat. A battery of artillery was positioned on the left bank to let loose a storm on the Musa Bagh with the intention of discomfiting the rebels while Sir Hope Grant’s cavalry was at the ready to fall upon any who unwisely decided to cross the river.
The insurgents began the day’s proceedings by opening fire on Grant’s men with long-range musketry; his orders had been to hold fast until “a simultaneous attack” had been made by all of Outram’s troops. However, Outram had had a devil of a time getting to the Musa Bagh and did not arrive until Grant had been nearly two hours under fire. He then had scarcely begun firing when the insurgents decided they had had enough and began to bolt. A squadron of the 9th Lancers was at the ready on the south side of the river and took up the chase. The charge was a fine one, in true Lancer style, even though the ground was uneven and difficult for their horses. Then, just as things were looking a little better, they were forced to rein in their horses as before them was a deep nullah, impossible to cross. The rebel artillery, in the meantime, had kept their wits about them and opened fire on the struggling Lancers with grape at 200 yards.
Private Robert Newell and Troop Sergeant-Major David Rushe, H.M.’s 9th LAncers
“The conduct of the officers and men of the 9th was most gallant, as they undauntedly charged masses of the enemy.” – Sir James Hope Grant
Unfortunately for them, the rebels had not sighted their guns correctly, and the grape simply washed over the Lancers’ heads. Things might have gone badly for the Lancers had the field artillery and infantry not taken up the invitation for a fight, and with some well-directed shots, soon sent the rebels running. Captain Josias Coles with his squadron of Lancers, disentangled themselves from the nullah and pursued the rebels for another four miles, overtook them on the open field and killed 100 of their number. With six more guns captured to make a total of 12, Coles recalled his men and turned back. In the squadron were Private Robert Newell and Troop Sergeant-Major David Rushe.
In the pursuit of which we only have fragments, Private Newell managed to save a comrade, most likely in circumstances not unlike William Goate, by dismounting his horse and, in the face of rebel musketry, dragging him away. The citation states the Lancer’s horse had fallen on bad ground, which would imply the saving occurred early on in the chase, when the squadron’s horses were stumbling before reaching the impassable nullah.
“For conspicuous gallantry at Lucknow, on the 19th of March, 1858, in going to the assistance of a comrade whose horse had fallen on bad ground, and bringing him away, under a heavy fire of musketry from a large body of the enemy. Despatch from Major-General Sir James Hope Grant K.C.B., dated 8th April, 1858.” (The London Gazette of 24 December 1858, No. 22212, p. 5512)
We know very little about Robert Newell. He was born in Seaham, County Durham, in 1835. Who his family was or why Newell enlisted in the Lancers is not recorded, but he was in India already in 1851, for on the 18th of February that year, he married Rebecca Keeves in Wazirabad. Together they would have two children, but sadly one died in infancy.
It goes without saying that Newell had been present at Delhi, the Relief of Lucknow its capture; Sir Hope Grant had mentioned him in despatches on April 8th, and it was established that Newell would receive the Victoria Cross – unfortunately, Newell died of dysentery on 11 July 1858 in Ambala. His citation in the Gazette does not contain the phrase that ended up on that of Bankes, although he was not gazetted until December 1858.
The story might have ended here if it were not for the 9th Lancers’ Assistant Apothecary Daniel Edwin Young. Young himself received the India Mutiny Medal with one clasp for Delhi. It is most likely that Young was born in India, as his father was Quartermaster Sergeant Edward Young of the 4th Company, 5th Battalion Bengal Artillery. Daniel entered the Bengal Subordinate Medal Department as a hospital apprentice in 1855 and, in 1857, was attached to the 9th Lancers.
The sick and wounded of the 9th Lancers were sent to Ambala, where the regimental hospital was located, and it is likely Young tended to Robert Newell during his illness. Newell’s wife was in Ambala herself; with her husband’s death, and likely with a young child to care for, Rebecca Newell did what was quite common at the time for the wives of privates and NCOs – after a suitable period of mourning, her choice fell on Daniel Young, whom she married on 9 February 1859 at Ambala. Unlike the other Victoria Cross winners, she never received a letter of approval stating her late husband’s entitlement to the annuity attached to the Victoria Cross, which would have been hers. As it is, Young helped his new wife to apply for the annuity, and it was finally granted by the Calcutta authorities. As for his Victoria Cross, it had been duly sent to India, but it had been returned as no one could find a chest to pin it to. However, with the annuity now being paid out, it seemed only fair that the VC should be sent to Newell’s widow; Queen Victoria helped things along and even sent a letter to her expressing not only her condolences for her loss but her admiration for Newell’s bravery. Both Young and his wife remained in India, dying in 1923 and 1907, respectively.
“For conspicuous bravery, near Lucknow, on the 19th of March, 1858, in having, in company with one other private of the troop, attacked eight of the enemy, who had posted themselves in a nullah, and killed three of them. ” Despatch from Major-General Sir James Hope Grant, K.C.B., dated 8th April, 1858. (No. 22212, The London Gazette. 24 December 1858. p. 5512.)
Once again, we are back at the nullah or in this case, a nullah somewhere during the pursuit by the 9th Lancers. While we may be scant on details, there is no doubt that Troop Sergeant-Major David Rush was a very brave man.
Born in 1825 (alternately, stated as 1827) in Elvershot near Woburn, Bedfordshire, to William Rushe, timber merchant and his wife, Elizabeth. It would seem David first tried his hand as a carpenter, but in 1842, he enlisted in the 9th Lancers. With the Lancers already in India, the young man sailed out to join them, arriving in time for the 1843 Gwalior Campaign, which was followed swiftly by the 1845-46 Sutlej Campaign and subsequently the 2nd Sikh War (1848-49). Raised to corporal in 1849, by 1851 he was promoted to sergeant and in March 1857, to Troop Sergeant Major. By the time Lucknow rolled around, David Rushe had an impressive collection of medals:
1843 – Gwalior Star for Punniar
1845-46 – Sutlej Medal with one clasp for Sobraon
1848-49 – Punjab Medal with clasps for Chillianwallah and Gujerat
To this would be added the India Mutiny Medal with three clasps – Delhi, Relief of Lucknow and Lucknow.
The little we know about David Rushe is that he returned to England with the Lancers in 1859, was promoted to Regimental Sergeant Major in 1862 and on the 9th of April 1867, he was discharged at Dublin. In the meantime, he had married Sarah Boyne in 1860 – Barrack master Henry Boyne’s daughter – and over the next years, they would have six children. It was also the year of his investiture at Windsor Castle on the 4th of January. After his discharge, Rushe returned to England; for nineteen years, from 1867, he served as the King’s Bodyguard of the Yeoman of the Guard and augmented his earnings, from 1880, as a brewer’s clerk. Rushe died in 1886 at Great Marlow in Buckinghamshire. His widow, most likely from necessity, sold off his medal collection, and it was not until 1959 that his descendants were able to reclaim them. The medals have been on loan by the family to the 9th/12th Lancers Regimental Museum, Derby Art Museum and Gallery, since 2011.
Cornet William G.H. Bankes – 7th Hussars
In the meantime, Brigadier Campbell should have been on the ready to take the rebels as they retreated, but he was nowhere in sight. According the Captain Hagart, Campbell’s advance had been nothing short of a mess.
“A strong force of cavalry, horse-artillery, and some infantry, under Brigadier Campbell, left their encampment near the Alum Bagh at about 2 a.m. for the Moosa Bagh, to prevent the enemy escaping on that side of Lucknow. We had a little skirmishing here and there, as we passed by villages and wooded and broken ground in this neighbourhood. At about 1 p.m., we halted to eat and rest. A vedette, approaching too near a small mud fort, apparently unoccupied, was fired on. I went, by Campbell’s orders, with a troop— in point of numbers not more than half a troop—of the 7th Hussars, some of Hodson’s Horse, a few men of the 78th Highlanders, and two of Major Tombs’ guns, to see about it. After a couple of shells, the enemy made a rush and came down upon the guns. I ordered the 7th to charge. Captain Slade and Cornet Banks were at once cut down; and Lieutenant Wilkin nearly had his foot cut through; and partly losing command of his horse— a stallion— which would not leave the ranks, was unable to give his men another lead, who were, so to say, a little put out at so suddenly losing their officers.
Luckily, I was all right, looking on; so I rode in at once to where a lot were hacking at poor Banks on the ground, followed by Wilkin and some of the men, and saved Banks, for the time at least. He was dreadfully mutilated and died fifteen or sixteen days after. We then set to work and killed every one of our opponents. They seemed to have no idea of giving way, but fought desperately. I was told they were fanatics maddened with bhang. During this, Brigadier Campbell marched on in the direction of the Moosa Bagh, fired, I was told, a few rounds at it, and returned.”
Born on 11 September 1836 in Kingston Lacy, Dorset, to the Rt. Honourable MP of Kingston Lacy and Corfe Castle, George Bankes and his wife, Georgina (née Nugent), there was no pressing need for William George Hawtry Bankes to join the army.
He was educated at Temple Grove in East Sheen, firstly, before moving on to Westminster School and Trinity College, Cambridge. At the time he decided to join the Hussars, William was working at the House of Commons as a librarian, but in April 1857, he was commissioned a cornet in the 7th Hussars. His motivation was not for fame or glory, nor was William particularly enthusiastic about the military; however, he had friends serving in the Hussars, and it all seemed like a bit of a lark. The Hussars themselves had not seen active service since returning home from Waterloo, and it did not appear they would be going anywhere very soon; that is, until the mutiny turned up. On the 27th of August 1857, young Cornet Bankes boarded the good ship “Lightning” and, with Lieutenant-Colonel James Hagart in command, the Hussars set sail for India. Exactly three months later, on 27 November, they disembarked at Calcutta. Until 5 December, they remained at Fort William, when, proceeding two troops at a time, they began their journey to Allahabad, where they arrived successively between the 19th and 21st of December. While they were being fitted and kitted and accoutred, they still lacked that singular feature of a cavalry, and that was horses. Theirs had been left behind in England – the government had, of course, promised them steeds, and the first lot arrived from the government farms shortly after Hussars arrived in Allahabad; all of them were hardy animals and completely untrained. After a month of hard work and patience, the Hussars were inspected on 13 January with their mounts in order, and declared by Brigadier W. Campbell to be fit for duty. Four days later, they filed out of Allahabad, on their way to Cawnpore. They crossed the Ganges between the 3rd and the 4th of February. Their initial duties were not particularly interesting, as they were employed until the 14th in escorting convoys to and from the Alambagh and keeping an eye on the roads surrounding Cawnpore – this changed when Sir Hope Grant was ordered to weed out Nana Sahib at Meanganj, and the left wing of the 7th Hussars went with him on this particular expedition. Their losses were five men wounded. On the 24th, one squadron was ordered up to the Alambagh; the next day, the Headquarters of the regiment and two further squadrons followed. Then, with Sir Colin Campbell, they marched to Lucknow.
The Hussars were actively present throughout the whole affair at Lucknow, and by this time, Cornet Bankes was beginning to show himself as a young man of much promise. He was a good cavalryman and had been active in his duties – the 19th of March was no exception, but he exceeded everyone’s expectations. The charge so ordered by Hagart was not such a placid affair as described by that officer. Bankes charged the rebels no less than three times, shot dead three, and on the last, practically unsupported, he was unfortunately thrown from his horse, which had been hamstrung by a blow from a tulwar. As Bankes lay on the ground, the rebels proceeded, as was their habit, to hack him to bits. When Hagart finally managed the rescue, there was very little of Bankes left intact. He had eleven wounds in all – one leg was severed at the knee, the other was only hanging on by a few sinews; one arm was “cleft to the bone” and the other was gone entirely; he had further slashes to his body, his chest and back. It was a miracle that Bankes was still alive. As it was, the remains of his right leg and arm were amputated.
He appeared to be getting on reasonably well, something the surgeons would most likely have put down to the fact that he was young and his constitution was good, not having been that many months in India to have felt any adverse effects of the sun or to have fallen prey to disease, however, the medicine of the day also had much of a “wait and see” attitude about it and while Bankes did rally for a time, when blood poisoning set in, there was nothing they could do for him. He died at Lucknow on the 6th of April 1858 at the Imbara, but his burial place has been lost. Three memorials to him do exist in England.
MEMORANDUM.
Cornet William George Hawtrey Bankes, 7th Hussars, upon whom the Commander-in-Chief in
India has reported that the Decoration of the Victoria Cross has been provisionally conferred, for conspicuous gallantry, in thrice charging a body of infuriated fanatics, who had rushed on the guns
employed in shelling a small mud fort in the vicinity of Moosa-Bagh, Lucknow, on the 19th of March.
1858,—of the wounds received on which occasion he subsequently died,- would have been recommended to Her Majesty for confirmation in that distinction, had he survived. ((No. 22212, The London Gazette. 24 December 1858. p. 5519)
The question remains, considering the Gazette citation, how did Bankes get a Victoria Cross? Hagart was put forward for the VC for saving Bankes, but Sir Colin Campbell decided against awarding it to a man of his rank, believing it was unseemly for a lieutenant-colonel to wear a VC. The Royal Warrant at the time stipulated that the awardee be alive; posthumous VCs were not officially awarded until well after the mutiny, and we come across, quite often, that sombering sentence – would have received the VC, had he but lived. In some cases, the War Office did not know the recipient was dead when the nomination appeared in the Gazette, as was the case with Private David Hawkes. As it is, there is nothing peculiar about Banke’s VC as has been suggested – he was still alive when the GOC (the commanding officer) conferred the award, yet in this case, it was subsequently confirmed by Queen Victoria herself. The sentence “..would have been recommended to Her Majesty for confirmation in that distinction, had he survived” is included in his citation, which was a problem with the Gazette and not with the recommendation itself. As it was, Queen Victoria was so moved by Bankes’ story, she personally travelled to Kingston Lacy to present the medal to his mother.
The medal now resides in Lord Ashcroft’s collection.
I was in two minds about publishing this picture of Cornet Bankes, taken after he was wounded. It had been sent to me by a mutiny enthusiast, who was unable to provide any provenance, except that he had had it in his collection of digital mutiny photographs for some years and was at a loss as to what to do with it, so he offered it to me. (It has also been digitally touched up, but to no great degree or with much skill.) Sceptical from the first, I managed to trace the photograph to the Museum of the Queen’s Royal Hussars, Churchill’s Own online site. It is indeed Cornet Bankes, but it is only half the image. To prevent becoming the object of any future issues, I have added a link below.
Such pictures are rare, should be viewed with caution and always verified – while I can safely say this is Cornet Bankes, and is used in the context of his story, this is very much bordering on voyeurism, as, according to the site, it might in fact be a memento mori. On this note, memento mori were not unusual in Victorian times, and this picture does bear this out – the careful tying of the blanket to hide his arms and injuries, the neckerchief and the fact he appears to be wearing a suit of clothes – it is a disturbing and infinitely sad picture but it may have brought some comfort to his loved ones at home.
And so, dear readers, we now leave Lucknow. There will be occasion to return, but for now, the Army of Oudh is marching in a different direction.
Sources:
Anson, O. H. St. G. With H.M. 9th Lancers During the Indian Mutiny. London: W.H. Allen & Co., Ltd., 1896.
Forrest, G. W. A History of the Indian Mutiny. Vol. 2. Edinburgh & London: William Blackwood & Sons Ltd., 1904.
Knollys, Henry, comp. Incidents in the Sepoy War, Compiled from the Private Journals of General Sir Hope Grant. Edinburgh & London: William Blackwood & Sons, 1873.
Lieutenant-General Sir James Outram’s Campaign in India, Comprising General Orders and Despatches. London: Smith, Elder & Co., 1860.
Russell, William Howard. My Diary in India, in the Year 1858-9. Vol. 1. London: Routledge, Warne & Routledge, 1860.
Links:
https://www.invaluable.com/auction-lot/single-campaign-medals-540-c-3f945739ab?srsltid=AfmBOorPozVr0n-blsQ_Es1ijz4nOZa1A_sQlN9g7Rvc2SiwcxH4mrrU
https://www.yeomenoftheguard.co.uk/
https://www.express.co.uk/news/history/909767/Indian-Mutiny-sepoy-rebellion-victoria-cross-Cornet-William-Bankes-history-UK
https://www.qrhmuseum.com/cornet-william-bankes
https://vcgca.org/
https://www.victoriacross.org.uk/
https://www.victoriacross.org.uk/
https://www.lordashcroftmedals.com/
Mutiny Reflections 