The Epic of Lucknow
Of all these local struggles, scattered far and wide throughout India, the epic story of Lucknow stands out as a self-contained episode of tremendous fortitude and heroism.
Major-General Richard Hilton (1957), The Indian Mutiny
An extract from chapter 8 of the book quoted above, so named The Epic of Lucknow, covering, as might be presumed by the name, that which transpired at the titular city during the course of the rebellion. The artwork above is a watercolour by Henry Martens from 1858.1 Following this text, one finds a map of Lucknow presented in the same chapter.
Lucknow, capital of the recently annexed kingdom of Oudh, was fortunate in having at the head of its affairs one of the greatest British administrators that India has ever known. Sir Henry Lawrence, elder brother of Sir John Lawrence (the able ruler of the Punjab, who was the driving force behind our recovery of Delhi), was an even greater man than his young brother. Henry combined within himself three admirable qualities—an almost saintly uprightness of character, based upon deep religious convictions, a power of vigorous and determined leadership, particularly in sudden emergencies, and an unrivalled knowledge of Indian mentality. Unfortunately, at the time of this supreme crisis, his health had broken down through overwork in a bad climate, but he did not allow this to diminish the vigour of his conduct or the wisdom of his leadership.
He was one of the first to sense the growing unrest among Indians, and specially among sepoys of the Bengal Army. He had many trusted friends and advisers among Indian officers and among persons of integrity in the civil population. Thus he kept himself well informed of developments. Very early he had warned Lord Canning of the undercurrent of trouble which was developing.
When news reached Lucknow of the unrest at Berhampore and Barrackpore, he realized at once that these were simply the forerunners of a great upheaval, which would soon swamp the whole Bengal Army. I have already narrated how on May 3rd Lawrence’s firm action in disarming the 7th Oudh Irregular Infantry averted what might easily have become an outbreak such as that of Meerut. The disarmament of the 7th did not, however, put an end to the unrest in and around Lucknow. Incendiarism continued. The men of the disarmed regiment, many of whom had fled in panic into the countryside continued to spread alarming stories of how the British had come upon them suddenly and in great force, with the obvious intention of driving them into Christianity at the cannon’s muzzle!
When Lawrence received official notification of the feeble treatment which had been applied to the thoroughly insubordinate 34th N.I. in Barrackpore, he refused to allow the announcement to be promulgated to the sepoy units of Lucknow, fearing that the knowledge of such leniency might precipitate an outbreak.
For his own part he wasted no time in trying to heal the discontent which he knew to exist throughout the province of Oudh—a result partly of the recent annexation, partly of the well-meant but foolish acts of Dalhousie’s administrative reformers, but due most of all, perhaps, to the tactless and boorish behaviour of Coverly Jackson, Lawrence’s predecessor. All that an understanding and sympathetic statesman could have done in the short time available, that much Lawrence did. He gained for the British cause many friends among the talukdars and the simple peasants of Oudh, where, but for his efforts, we should hardly have had a single friend.
His attempt to soothe the spirit of unrest among the sepoys was less successful. On May 12th, before news of Meerut and Delhi had reached him, he held a big durbar in the Residency gardens, to which he invited all the Indian officers and fifty sepoys from each of the Lucknow units. He entertained them hospitably, publicly rewarded those who had been loyal on May 3rd, and gave them a straightforward and simple talk on the matters which were troubling the minds of Mahomedans and Hindus. Some who heard his address agreed later that no Christian administrator could have put his cards on the table more honestly, sympathetically, and yet firmly than Henry Lawrence. But it was already too late. The poison of the “greased cartridge” propaganda had eaten too deeply into the minds of his listeners. They heard him respectfully, but went away convinced that this condescension on the part of the great ‘Lat Sahib' was just another sign of the weakness and timidity of the British.
Next day the telegraph brought him news of the outbreaks in Meerut. The following day he heard about Delhi. On receipt of these warnings he abandoned any hope that Lucknow might escape a similar ordeal. It was merely a matter of time. From that moment he started his preparations to meet the crisis.
1. '7th (Queen's Own), Hussars, charging a body of the Mutineer's Cavalry', 1858, Henry Martens. In the Study collection of the National Army Museum: https://collection.nam.ac.uk/detail.php?acc=1987-06-10-1