Orders, Decorations, Medals and Militaria

Indian Mutiny 1857-59, 1 clasp, Lucknow (Fredk. C. Wittie, Yeoman Store Rooms. Shannon) good very fine
£2000-2500

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, Exceptional Naval and Polar Awards from the Collection of RC Witte.

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Severely wounded at the storming of the Begum’s Palace at Lucknow on 11 March 1858, and died from his wounds on 27 March. His Indian Mutiny medal was sent to his widow on 20 May 1861

Frederick Edward Witte was born in Pimlico, London on 10 August 1826, and joined the Navy as a Boy 2nd Class aboard H.M.S. Styx on 14 January 1843. He subsequently served in Skylark as Boy 1st Class, from January 1845; as Ordinary Seaman aboard Albion from July 1845; in Powerful as Yeoman of the Storerooms, from February 1848; as Able Seaman in Prince Regent from April 1851; as Yeoman of the Storerooms once again aboard Neptune, from March 1854, in which vessel he served in the Baltic campaign (Medal); and in the same rate aboard Rodney from January to August 1856, after which he joined Shannon.

The following extracts relative to the storming of the Begum’s Palace at Lucknow are taken from The Devil’s Wind by Major-General G. L. Verney, D.S.O., M.V.O.:

‘The next move of the Naval Brigade was to a corner of the Martinière Park in order to breach the wall of the compound of Banks’ House. When this place had been taken, some of the Naval guns were brought forward under command of Lieutenant Young and placed in battery to the right of it, while Lieutenant Salmon took another battery of two guns into a garden on the right of the road leading to the Begum’s Palace.

At about 5 p.m. the breach was considered practicable. General Napier decided on the precise moment when the firing should cease; officers commanding batteries and those told off to lead the storming parties compared their watches.

At daybreak on the 11th Outram’s batteries opened fire, and at the same time the Naval guns began their bombardment of the Begum’s Palace. An hour after noon the bluejackets pushed two of their heaviest guns right up to within 150 yards of the massive Palace walls. At this range, the 8-inch shot went through all three walls of the Palace’s surroundings.

Dr Munro was with the storming party. “Behind some ruined buildings and battered walls, nearly opposite the breach, stood some eight hundred men throughout whose ranks reigned a silence as deep as death. Each man stood leaning on his rifle, wrapt in his own thoughts... Suddenly there was a slight movement in the ranks, just enough to break the previous stillness. Officers moved quietly to their places, men stood erect, pressed their bonnets firmly down upon their heads, stretched their arms and limbs and then, grasping their rifles, tightly, stood firm and steady.

“Thus they remained for a second or two, when the tall form of their favourite leader, Adrian Hope, appeared, and his right hand waved the signal for assault. Then a cry burst from their ranks. It was not a cheer, which has a pleasant ring in it, but a short, sharp, piercing cry which had an angry sound that almost made one tremble. I never heard the like before and never since.

“With the leading party and amongst the foremost stormers was Pipe-Major McLeod who, entering the breach, tuned up at once and pacing up and down within the inner court of the enemy’s works, played the Regimental Gathering while the fight raged fiercely round him, thinking, as he said afterwards, that ‘the lads would fight all the better when they heard the music of the pipes.’

“The air resounded with the cries of the wounded and dying, the cheers of our soldiers and the echoes of dropping fire. It was at this time that Captain Hodson was mortally wounded. Gradually, as all became still, we knew that the enemy’s second line of defence was captured and the Begum’s Palace in our hands.”

Lord Roberts considered it a “marvel” that the Begum’s Palace had been taken at such small cost to the attackers, for the Palace was “most formidable”. Some 600 or 700 sepoys were buried next day in the great ditch, and by all accounts they had fought desperately as they were unable to get away.

On 27 March the guns were withdrawn from the Residency, and on the next day everyone was delighted to hear that Captain Peel was well enough to go out for the first time in a doolie. Another of the wounded, however, died.’