Auction Catalogue
Create new listThe Indian Mutiny medal to Drummer Henry Medcalf, 32nd Light Infantry, whose ‘Chronicle’ provides a dramatic eye-witness account of the siege of Lucknow
Indian Mutiny 1857-59, 1 clasp, Defence of Lucknow (Drumr. H. Medcalf, 32nd L.I.) suspension post re-fixed, edge bruising and contact marks, therefore good fine
£1500-2000
This lot was sold as part of a special collection, The Brian Ritchie Collection of H.E.I.C. and British India Medals.
View
Collection
Ex Gray collection 1920.
The medal rolls confirm ‘3434 Drummer Henry Medcalf‘ of the 32nd Light Infantry, as entitled to medal and clasp for the Defence of Lucknow. There is no entry for anyone called Metcalf or Metcalfe. He enlisted in the name of Medcalf and appears as such in all official records. It is now clear that his family name has since been corrupted to Metcalfe, in which name his famous ‘Chronicle’ was published in 1952.
Henry Medcalf was born in the Parish of Shandon, near Cork, and, like his father before him, attested for the 32nd Regiment at Cork on 10 July 1848, aged 14 years 6 months. Having served at Chatham for eleven months he embarked with a draft for India on 14 June 1849. The voyage out to India was perilous, with Medcalf finding himself battened down between hatches for three days without food or drink during a storm as they rounded the Cape of Good Hope. ‘We lost on that occasion two of our boats,’ he began his now well-known Chronicle, ‘bulwarks stove in, our jib boom taken away, also our fore and top main masts, with their running and standing rigging. There was two and a half feet of water on the Troop deck.’ After landing at Calcutta on 3 November 1849, he suffered a bout of ‘jungle fever’, before marching five hundred miles up country to spend the worst of the hot weather season of 1850 at Allahabad, which he thought ‘very hot indeed’.
On 21 July 1851, Medcalf was rated ‘Drummer’ and remained as such until after the conclusion of the Mutiny, when he was re-rated as a Private on 1 February 1859. In October 1851 he marched with his regiment 700 miles to Jullundur in the recently conquered Punjab, and on 8 January 1852 arrived at Peshawar. Between 11 March and 22 May 1852, he took part in the Ranizai Expedition under Brigadier-General Sir Colin Campbell and remained on the Frontier until January 1854, when the regiment, expecting to be sent to the Crimea, was ordered instead to Kasauli (Medal with clasp ‘North West Frontier’).
In October 1856 the 32nd Foot proceeded to Lucknow and en route left a depot at Cawnpore under the heroic Captain John Moore (qv), consisting of ‘87 non. com. officers and men, and also about 57 women and about 62 children’. The depot was, of course, annihilated during the defence of the Cawnpore entrenchment, and in the massacres at Satichura Ghat on 27 June 1857 and the Bibighar on 15 July 1857, ‘by the orders of that fiend in human shape, the Nana ... It is scarcely to be believed’, Medcalf continued, ‘that he accompanied the Regiment to Church on the Sunday before we left Cawnpore for Lucknow, but it is a positive fact. I saw him myself riding in a beautiful phaeton, drawn by two splendid grey horses.’
On the night 30 May 1857, the 7th Bengal Cavalry, 2nd Oudh Irregular Cavalry (Gall’s Horse), the 13th, 48th, and 71st N.I. and half of the Native Battery mutinied at Lucknow and dispersed into the outlying areas. After a month of waiting and watching for the ‘Devil’s Wind’ to blow, the 32nd Foot marched out with the force under Sir Henry Lawrence to give the mutineers battle at Chinhut. The commanding officer of the 32nd, ‘Colonel Case, as nice an officer and as good as ever drew a sword’ was killed and the regiment joined the general retreat under a scorching sun. ‘I saw on that retreat some of our finest soldiers drop down with sunstroke, never to rise again’, wrote Medcalf. ‘I saw one fine fellow who was wounded in the leg. He coolly sat down on the road, faced the enemy, and all we could do or say to him would not urge him to try and come with us. He said “No, you fellows push on, leave me here to blaze away at these fellows. I shan’t last long and I would never be able to reach Lucknow.” He remained, and was very soon disposed of, poor fellow.’
Medcalf witnessed a number of acts of heroism during that disastrous retreat. A man named Jones was being carried back on a gun carriage having been wounded, but on seeing his brother being struck down by a bullet he immediately jumped off the limber to be killed with him. Another man ‘maddened by the heat and fatigue, charged single-handed into the ranks of the enemy and was soon put to rest.’
During the defence of Residency entrenchment Medcalf was posted principally in Dr Fayrer’s House, near the Baillie Guard Gate, and shared the perils of the 145 day siege with a faithful companion called ‘Bustle’, a white terrier who belonged to Lucknow’s Senior Chaplain and his wife, the Rev. J. P. and Mrs Harris. In June the authorities had ordered that all dogs found outside their owners’ compounds were to be hanged, and so rather than tie up Bustle the Harrises had sent him out to La Martinière College. But when George Schilling (qv) saw him pining for his master he brought him back to Fayrer’s House where the Harrises were staying. After the siege began Harris noticed several people looking askance at Bustle for whom there would soon be little or no food. Accordingly Harris approached a soldier of the 32nd and asked him if he would shoot the dog. The man replied that he would as he was going to discharge his piece anyway in order to clean it. Overhearing the conversation, Medcalf interjected and asked if he might have the dog. Harris pointed out that he would never have enough rations to spare, but Medcalf insisted and from then on he and Bustle were inseparable. After a few days, Harris told Medcalf that his wife had been given the dog by a dying soldier on the North West Frontier, and that she had undertaken never to be parted from him except in the most dire emergency. Harris then said “If you and Mrs Harris and myself survive the siege will you promise to give up the dog to Mrs Harris again?” Medcalf replied that he would.
Following the First Relief of Lucknow by Havelock and Outram on 25 September, food became scarcer than before. It was now impossible for Medcalf to find food for both himself and Bustle, and so he decided to use the excuse that since the (original) siege was now over he was honour bound hand back his faithful companion to Mrs Harris. Reluctantly he sought out the Rev. Harris and ‘told him I had fulfilled my part of the contract on account of the dog. I said I thought we had survived the siege and that I had much pleasure in returning the dog to Mrs Harris safe and sound. I did not tell him the real cause, but I believe he guessed it. He took the dog back, and by God’s help we all survived the Siege, Mrs Harris, Mr Harris, Medcalf and the dog.’
On 29 September three sorties were made to destroy various troublesome loopholed buildings and gun emplacements. In spite of the protestations of Brigadier Inglis, the 32nd were assigned to lead all three as Outram argued that they knew the ground. Medcalf was detailed to join the attack on Johannes House which stood directly opposite the Martinère Post. Johannes House had been attacked before and on that occasion Medcalf had been wounded in the legs. The attack of 29 September was led by Captain McCabe. His party left the Brigade Mess at daybreak and, after forming up under the cover of a wall, rushed and captured an 18-pounder gun eighty yards from the start point, before turning their attention to Johannes House. Scaling ladders were placed up against the windows and Medcalf heard the command “Forward!”
‘We all rushed off together, and whether me being light or small, or what, I reached one of the ladders just as the tall Grenadier [Private Tom Carroll of the 32nd’s Grenadier Company] reached the other, and it was a race between him and me ... I believe he got in at his window before I got in at mine, but when I got in I could not see anyone in my room. Consequently I concluded that the enemy did not wait for us but took to their heels as soon as we rushed forward. Well, I looked round the room to see if there was anything worth laying hands on in the shape of provisions etc. Well, there was a very large box, something about or nearly resembling a large flour bin. The lid was partly up, so I threw it entirely up, and what was my astonishment to see three of my sable friends sitting on their haunches in this big box. Well, I shot one and bayonetted another, but the third was on me like mad and before I knew where I was he had hold of my musket by the muzzle so that I could not use the bayonet at him. So there I was, he chopping away at me with his native sword, and me defending myself the best way I could by throwing up the butt of my musket to protect my head and trying to close with him, which I knew was my only chance. In doing this I received a chop from his sword on the left hand which divided the knuckle and nearly cut off my thumb. Well, he had his sword raised to give me, I suppose the final stroke, when in rushed the tall Grenadier. Tom Carrol took in the situation at a glance and soon put an end to my antagonist by burying the hammer of his musket in the fellow’s skull, and when he saw me all covered with blood he shouted out a great hoarse laugh and said, “You little swab, you were very near being done for,” and indeed, so I was. I then shewed him the box and its contents, and I can tell you it rather astonished him.’
To the deep regret of the whole garrison, Captain McCabe was shot through the lungs and killed in this sortie. Medcalf records that Sir Colin Campbell, on hearing the story of McCabe’s repeated gallantry, ‘asked as a favour that he might be allowed to retain his regulation sword as a souvenir of his bravery’. Furthermore, Medcalf tells us, the C-in-C recommended that McCabe’s ‘mother might receive a pension, as this, her son was the sole means of her support’. About a fortnight after the Johannes sortie, Medcalf and Privates Kelly and Ryan, went out to capture an enemy howitzer in a position which although hidden was known to the three of them. The first man to the gun position they were told would be ‘recommended’. Following Ryan, who seemed to know a short cut, they came up against a brick wall separating them from the gun. Kelly set to work with his musket butt, knocking out a number of bricks. As soon as the hole was large enough, Medcalf raced through, ‘never giving it a thought what danger there may be attached to it’. But when he reached the position he found the gun had been removed, and so scratched his initials in the wheel tracks so as to stake his claim to being the first man there and entered a neighbouring courtyard. The officer in charge, however, recommended Kelly as being the first man at the place where the gun had been, but Kelly manfully enough repudiated the recommendation in Medcalf‘s favour, but still it came to nothing and he ‘got no Cross,’ which, in any case he considered when penning the Chronicle, ‘are getting as common as dirt nowadays’.
Following the Second Relief of Lucknow, a general parade of the garrison was ordered by Sir Colin Campbell with the 250 survivors of the 32nd Foot, which had marched into Lucknow eleven months earlier 950 bayonets strong, holding a place of honour on the left of the other Europeans. Metcalfe went on to serve in the Third Battle of Cawnpore and in subsequent operations against the rebels in Oudh and later on the banks of the Gogra. The 32nd was finally ordered home in March 1859, and on landing received a heroes’ welcome. Medcalf was promoted to Corporal on 1 September 1859 and next went to Ireland on garrison duty and thence to South Africa, where he served 2 years and 8 months at the Cape. He was promoted to Sergeant in January 1862, and to Colour-Sergeant in August 1866, but reverted to Sergeant in February 1868, in which rank he was discharged at Chichester on 5 March 1872. Although he stated his intention to reside at Beverley in Yorkshire, Medcalf subsequently became a Sergeant-Instructor with the 5th Cheshire Rifle Volunteers and the drill instructor to the boys of Macclesfield Modern School. This grand ‘Old Sweat’ died in 1915 at the age eighty. In addition to his medals for the North West Frontier and Lucknow, Medcalf also received his medal for long service and good conduct
One half of Medcalf’s manuscript diary was discovered just after the Second World War, and after a remarkable piece of detective work the missing half was located with Medcalf’s descendants (now Metcalfe), still living in Macclesfield, Cheshire. Thus his remarkable ‘chronicle’ came to be edited and published by Lieutenant-General Sir Francis Tuker, KCIE, CB, DSO, OBE, in 1952.
Ref: WO 97/2049; IOL L/MIL/5/75; The Chronicle of Private Henry Metcalfe (Tuker).
Share This Page