THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW.

Northland Age, Volume IV, Issue 42, 22 June 1908, Page 8

THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW.

Many are the thrilling stories whieh are told in connection with the Indian Mutiny, but the following romantic incident connected with the relief of Lucknow, as related fcy M. de Bannevqi, a French physician, who was in India at the time, is well worth recording, says the Telegraph." “I give you the following account I ,’ says he, “of the relief of Lucknow, as described by a lady, one of the rescued party" ’—On every side death stared us in the face j no human skill could avert 1 it any longer. We saw the mojnent approach when we must bid farewell to earth, yet without that unutterable horror which must have been experienced by the unhappy victims at Cawnpore. We resolved rather to die than yield, and were fully persuaded that in twenty-four hours all would be over. The engineers had said so, and all knew the worst.

We women strove to encourage each other, and to perform the light duties which had been assigned to us, such as conveying orders to the batteries, and supplying the men with provisions, especially cups of coffee, which we prepared day and night.

I had gone out to try and make myself useful, in company with Jessie Brown, the wife of a corporal in my husband's regiments' Poor Jessie had been in a state of restless excitement all through the siege, and fallen away dreadfully within the last few days. A constant fever consumed her, and her mind wandered occasionally, especially that day, when the recollections of home seemed powerfully present to her. At last, overcome with fatigue, she lay down on the ground, wrapped up in her plaid. I sat beside her, promising to woke her when, as she said, “her father should return from the ploughing." She fell at length into a profound slumber, motionless, apn parently breathless, her head resting on my lap. I myself could no longer resist the inclination to sleep, in spite of the continual roar of the canon. Suddenly 1 was aroused by a wild unearthly scream close to my ear ; my companion stood upright before me, her arms raised, and her head bent forward in the attitude of listening. A look of intense delight broke over her countenance; she grasped my hand, drew me towards her, and exclaimed, "Dinna ye hear it ? Dinna ye hear it ? Ay, I’m no dreamin’, its the‘slogan o’ the Highlanders ! We're saved, we’re saved !’ Then flinging herself on her knees, she thanked! God with passionate fervour.

I felt utterly bewildered ; my English ears heard only the roar of the artillery, and I thought my poor Jessie was still raving ; but she darted to the batteries, and I heard her cry incessantly tq the men, “Courage ! Courage ! hark to the slogan—to the Macgregor, 'the grandest of them a'. Here’s help at last !" To describe the effect of these words upqn the soldier? would be impossible. For a moment they ceased firing, *and every soul listened with intense anxiety. Gradually, hqwever, there arose a murmur of bitter disappointment, and the wailing of the women who had flocked to the spot burst out anew as the Colonel shook his head. Our dull Lowland hears heard nothing but the rattle of the musketry. A few moments more of this deathlike suspense, of this agonising hope, and Jessie, who had sunk to the ground, sprang to her feet, and cried in a voice so clear and piercing that it was heard alon£ the whole line : “Will ye no believe it noo ? The slogan has ceased indeed, but the Campbell’s are comin. D’ye hear, d'ye hear ?"

At that moment we seemed indeed to hear the voice of God in the distance, when the pibroch of the Highlanders brought us tidings of deliverance, for now there was no longer any doubt of the fact. The shrill, penetrating ceaseless sound 1 , which rose above alll qther sounds, could come neither from the advance of the enemy nor from the work of the Sappers. No, it was indeed the blast of the Scqttish bagpipes, now shrill and then harsh, as if threatening vengeance on the foe, then in softer tones seeming to promise succour to their friends in need.

Never, surely, was there such a scene as that which followed. Not a heart in the Residency of Lucknow but bowed itself before God. All, by one simultaneous impulse fell tin their knees, and nothing was heard but bursting sobs_ and the murmured voice of prayer. Then all arose, and there rang out from a thousand lips a great sound of joy w&ich sounded far and wide, and lent new vigour to that blessed pibroch.

To our cheer of “God Save the Queen,* 1 they replied by the wellknown strain which moves every Scot to tears, “Should Auld Acquaintance be Forget," etc. After that, nothing else made any impression on me. I scarcely remember what followed. Jessie was presented to the General on his entrance to the fort, and at the officers' banquet her health was drunk by all present, while the pipers marched round the table playing once more the familiar air of “Auld Lang Syne.”