A NARRATIVE OF THE SIEGE OF DELHI WITH AN ACCOUNT OFTHE MUTINY AT FEROZEPORE IN 1857

BY CHARLES JOHN GRIFFITHS LATE CAPTAIN 61ST REGIMENT

EDITED BY HENRY JOHN YONGE LATE CAPTAIN 61ST REGIMENT

WITH PLANS AND ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W. 1910

INTRODUCTION

The ever memorable period in the history of our Eastern Empire known asthe Great Indian Rebellion or Mutiny of the Bengal army was an epochfraught with the most momentous consequences, and one which resulted incovering with undying fame those who bore part in its suppression. Thepassions aroused during the struggle, the fierce hate animating thebreasts of the combatants, the deadly incidents of the strife, whichwithout intermission lasted for nearly two years, and deluged with bloodthe plains and cities of Hindostan, have scarcely a parallel in history. On the one side religious fanaticism, when Hindoo and Mohammedan, restraining the bitter animosity of their rival creeds, united togetherin the attempt to drive out of their common country that race which forone hundred years had dominated and held the overlordship of the greaterportion of India. On the other side, a small band of Englishmen, afew thousand white men among millions of Asiatics, stood shoulder toshoulder, calm, fearless, determined, ready to brave the onslaught oftheir enemies, to maintain with undiminished lustre the proud deeds oftheir ancestors, and to a man resolved to conquer or to die. 

Who can recount the numberless acts of heroism, the hairbreadth escapes, the anxious days and nights passed by our gallant countrymen, who, fewin number, and isolated from their comrades, stood at bay in differentparts of the land surrounded by hundreds of pitiless miscreants, tigersin human shape thirsting for their blood? And can pen describe thenameless horrors of the time--gently nurtured ladies outraged andslain before the eyes of their husbands, children and helpless infantsslaughtered--a very Golgotha of butchery, as all know who have read ofthe Well of Cawnpore?

The first months of the rebellion were a fight for dear life, a constantstruggle to avert entire annihilation, for to all who were there itseemed as though no power on earth could save them. But Providencewilled it otherwise, and after the full extent of the danger wasrealized, gloomy forebodings gave way to stern endeavours. Men arose, great in council and in the field, statesmen and warriors--Lawrence, Montgomery, Nicholson, Hodson, and many others. The crisis brought tothe front numbers of daring spirits, full of energy and resource, ofindomitable resolution and courage, men who from the beginning saw themagnitude of the task set before them, and with calm judgment faced theinevitable. These were they who saved our Indian Empire, and who, by thedirection of their great organized armies, brought those who but a fewyears before had been our mortal enemies to fight cheerfully on ourside, and, carrying to a successful termination the leaguer of Delhi, stemmed the tide of the rebellion, and broke the backbone of the Mutiny. 

The interest excited amongst all classes of our countrymen by the eventswhich happened during the momentous crisis of 1857 in India can scarcelybe appreciated by the present generation. So many years have elapsedthat all those who held high commands or directed the councils of theGovernment have long since died, and the young participants in thecontest who survived its toils and dangers are all now past middle age. But the oft-told tale will still bear repetition, and the recital of theachievements of Englishmen during the great Indian rebellion will fillthe hearts of their descendants for all time with pride, and incite themto emulate their actions. In the hour of danger the heart of the nationis stirred to its profoundest depths, the national honour is at stake, and that heritage bequeathed to us by our ancestors must at all hazardsbe preserved. Thus it happened in 1857, and the result is well known. Soit may again occur, and with confidence it may be predicted that, as ofyore, Britain's sons will not be found wanting in the hour of trial, that, keeping well in mind the glorious traditions of their race, theywill maintain unsullied the reputation of their forefathers, and add tothe renown of that Empire on which the sun never sets. 

It is unnecessary, in this place, to enter into the causes which ledto the mutiny of the Bengal army. These can be read and studied in thegraphic pages of Kaye and Malleson. My intention is to give, as far asin me lies, a truthful account of the events in which I personally borepart, and which came under my own immediate observation. 

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

FEROZEPORE

_May 10 to June 13_

Outbreak at Meerut--Neglect of arsenals--H. M. 's 61stRegiment--Characteristics of the British troops in India--Outbreakunexpected--First indication of disaffection--News of the Mutiny atMeerut--Steps taken at Ferozepore--Wives and families moved to thebarracks--A party of the 61st Regiment sent into the fort--Proceedingswithin the fort--45th Regiment of Native Infantry tries to take thefort--It is repulsed--Criticism of the Brigadier's conduct--His want ofinitiative--The cantonment fired--The damage done--Bells of arms blownup--The 61st dismissed to barracks--A patrol ordered--State of thecantonment--Action of the mutineers--Officers quartered in thebarracks--Grenadiers again on special duty--Indifference displayed bythe Brigadier--Measures adopted for the safety of the cantonment--Searchfor mess property--Parsimony of the Government--Anxiety in thePunjab--Loyalty of the Sikhs--Sir John Lawrence's appeal tothem--Their characteristics--Spread of the Mutiny--Reactionat Ferozepore--Night-attacks--One in particular--Trial ofprisoners--Sentences--Executions

CHAPTER II

ON THE MARCH

_June 13 to July 1_

A wing of the 61st ordered to Delhi--The five companiesselected--Readiness displayed by the regiment--On the march--Choleraappears--I visit an old friend--Badli-ki-Serai--News from Delhi--Entryinto camp

CHAPTER III

BEFORE DELHI

_July 1 to September 7_

A view of Delhi--Vicissitudes of the city--Its defences--defences--Theridge--Position of our camp--Our position--The Goorkhas--Choleraraging--Heat and flies--Executions--The Metcalfe pickets--A sortieexpected--expected--Hodson--Bombardment of Metcalfe picket--Enemyreported moving on Alipore--A force sent after them--The actiondescribed--Forces complimented by Sir Henry Barnard--His death--Hisservices--Our meagre armament--Scarcity of ammunition--Amusingincident--The Metcalfe house--Our bugle-calls in use by the enemy--Asortie--Ruse by the enemy's cavalry--Gallant conduct of LieutenantHills and Major Tombs, Bengal Artillery--Expedition under BrigadierChamberlain--Chamberlain--Gallant conduct of Brigadier Wm. Jones--Fightat Kishenganj--Meeting with an old friend--A sad story--story--Story ofC---- d--A victim of the Meerut massacre--massacre--Strong feeling ofrevenge in all ranks--A sortie--Attack on Sabzi Mandi pickets and rightridge--An awkward position--Heavy loss of enemy--Cholera and othersickness prevalent--Fishing--Provisions, etc. , much appreciated--GeneralReed resigns and is succeeded by General Wilson--Attack on Sabzi Mandiand Hindoo Rao's repulsed--Bodies of slain sepoys rifled--Difficulty ofpreventing it--General's approval of Colonel Jones's conduct--The numberof attacks by the enemy--Sortie on our left--Repulsed by BrigadierShowers--Expedition under Major Coke--Attack on right pickets atsunset--Combat continues all night--Enemy retires--Loss of enemy--Resultof General Wilson's appointment--We attempt to destroy the bridgeof boats--Demonstration by the enemy--Pickets on the rightharassed--Metcalfe pickets shelled--Brigadier Showers takes fourguns--Our reinforcements arrive under Nicholson--His character--Mrs. Seeson comes in from the city--The enemy fires rockets--He establishes abattery on the left bank of the river--river--Sortie--Expedition underNicholson--Battle of Najafgarh--Elkington mortally wounded--Gabbettkilled--killed--Death of Elkington--Right pickets harassed--An amusingincident--The Afghans--Alarm in the Punjab--Bands play in camp--Fatalshell from across the river--An uncomfortable bath--The siege-trainarrives--Our allies--Zeal of the engineers--New batteries established

CHAPTER IV

CAPTURE OF THE CITY

_September 7 to 14_

Strength of our force--General Wilson's order--Volunteers for artillerycalled for--All our batteries open fire--Number of casualties duringbombardment--Frequent sorties--Death of Captain Fagan, BengalArtillery--Breaches examined--Orders for the assault--Details ofcolumns--The assault--Blowing in of Kashmir Gate--Details of theoperations--Cowardly tactics of the enemy--Gallant conduct of PrivateMoylan, 61st Regiment--Gallant conduct of Surgeon Reade, 61stRegiment--Doing of Nos. 1 and 2 columns--Nicholson mortally wounded--No. 4 column attacks Kishenganj--Conduct of the Kashmir troops--Theylose their guns--Their search for them--Failure of the attack onKishenganj--Intention of the enemy--Work of the Cavalry Brigade--Supportby the Guides infantry--Casualties on September 14--Bravery of thenative troops--Temptations to drink--All liquor destroyed--We constructmore batteries--Reported intentions of the General--These overruled--Theenemy attacks our advanced posts--We storm the magazine--Furtheradvance of Nos. 1 and 2 Columns--The 61st move to the church--ColonelSkinner--State of the church--Unsuccessful attack on the Burnbastion--Eclipse of the sun--The Burn bastion captured--The enemy beginto retire--Capture of the Lahore Gate and Garstin bastion--The Palaceand Selimgarh taken--The Jama Masjid taken--The 61st move to Ali Khan'shouse--Casualties--Reflections

CHAPTER V

OCCUPATION OF THE CITY

_September 20 to May, 1858_

Lack of appreciation by Government--A contrast--Delay in issue of prizemoney and medals--Unceremonious presentation of the latter--Completedesertion of the city by the enemy--A stroll through thecity--Looting--Discovery of hiding inhabitants--They are orderedto leave the city--Disgraceful desertion of pets--State of thestreets--Hodson captures the King of Delhi--The King's appearancedescribed--His trial and sentence--Hodson captures the King's sons andgrandson--Their deaths--Diminished strength of the 61st Regiment--Itmoves to the Ajmir Gate--The Jama Masjid and view from it--Itsgarrison--A movable column dispatched towards Cawnpore--Soldiersand others forbidden to enter or leave the city--The Mooltanihorse--Indulgence to Goorkhas--Their appreciation--An exodus--Strictregulations--State of feeling of the army--Work of the ProvostMarshal--Two reputed sons of the King executed--The suburbs--An amusingincident--Visiting the old positions--Cholera still rife--2, 000 sick andwounded in the Selimgarh--We move to the magazine--I am recommended forsick leave--I leave Delhi for Umballah--I am robbed _en route_--Reportmatters to Commissioner and receive compensation--Leave for Ferozeporeand home

CHAPTER VI

THE RICHES OF DELHI

Delhi famed for its treasures--General Wilson's order--Army anxiousabout prize-money--Batta to be granted instead--Indignation ofarmy generally--Humorous placard--Interest on unpaid prize-moneypromised--Opinion of the Times--Prize-agents appointed--Early looting--Awhite elephant--Evidence of looting--The practice excused--A luckyhaul--Scruples cast aside--Personal experiences--A tempting display--Noproper account rendered--Method of search--A mine of wealth--A neglectedopportunity--A happy thought--A wrinkle--A favourite hiding-place--Anexceptional house--A mishap--Art treasures--"'Tis an ill wind, "etc. --Pleasant memories

INDEX

LIST OF MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS

PLAN OF DELHI, 1857

PLAN OF THE MILITARY STATION AT FEROZEPORE

DELHI, FROM THE MOSQUE PICKET

THE SMALL PICKET, SABZI MANDI, FROM THE SOUTH-EAST

FROM THE SMALL PICKET, SABZI MANDI, LOOKING TOWARDS KISHENGANJ

SKETCH TO ILLUSTRATE THE ENGAGEMENT AT NAJAFGARH IN AUGUST, 1857

KING OF DELHI AS A PRISONER IN 1857

"HOMEWARD, " NEAR JERRICK, ON THE INDUS

[Illustration: PLAN OF DELHI 1857

 N _Here Nicholson fell on Sept 14th_]

REMINISCENCES OF THE SIEGE OF DELHI, 1857

CHAPTER I

FEROZEPORE

The actual Mutiny of the Bengal army broke out at Meerut on May 10, 1857. Events had happened in the Lower Provinces which foreshadowed thecoming storm, and one regiment of native infantry had been disbanded;but no one, not even those in high authority, had the faintest suspicionthat our rule in India was imperilled. So strong, indeed, was thesense of security from present danger that the Government, with almostculpable neglect, still confided to the care of the native army thelarge arsenals of Delhi, Ferozepore, and Phillour, in all of whichimmense quantities of ammunition and munitions of war were stored. 

There was not a single white regiment stationed at Delhi, not even aEuropean guard, the charge of the arsenal, the largest in Upper India, being entrusted to a few officers and sergeants of artillery. The samemay be said of Phillour, in the Punjab--a small station, where onlynative troops were quartered. The fort of Ferozepore, near the left bankof the Sutlej River, was guarded by 100 men detailed from the sepoyregiments at that cantonment, and, with Phillour, constituted theonly places from which ammunition could be drawn for the large force, European and native, guarding the newly-acquired province of the Punjab. 

Her Majesty's 61st Regiment of Foot was stationed at Ferozepore in May, 1857. In that corps I held a commission as Lieutenant, and, during theabsence of my Captain on leave in Kashmir, was in temporary command ofthe Grenadier Company. 

The regiment at this time mustered nearly 1, 000 men, half that numberold and gallant veterans of from ten to twenty years' service. Thesehad fought in many Indian campaigns, and on the terrible day ofChillianwalla, in January, 1849, when the Khalsa army rolled back inutter defeat a portion of Lord Gough's force, had, under the leadershipof Sir Colin Campbell, altered the fortunes of the battle. Advancingin line under a tremendous cannonade, and without firing a shot, theymarched as if on parade and in stern silence till within fifty yardsof the Sikh batteries, when, with a shout which struck terror into thebreasts of their enemies, they charged irresistibly and took the guns. 

It was to men such as these that, fortunately for the maintenance of ourEmpire in the East, England trusted in the perilous days of 1857. Asof my own regiment, so it may be said of all then quartered inIndia--sturdy, fine fellows, of good physique, of rare discipline, andinured to the climate, who, in the words of the Iron Duke, could marchanywhere and fight anything. The army then had not been improved outof existence; reforms, if such they can be called, were received withconsiderable disfavour; for what amelioration could be effected in thediscipline and steady courage of those who had stormed the heights ofthe Alma, had stood the shock of the Muscovite at Inkerman, and had notdespaired on the bloody fields of Ferozeshah and Chillianwalla?

I may be excused if I thus energetically offer my tribute of praise tothat army, and more especially to that regiment in which I passed myyoung days. I recall the numberless acts of devotion and courage, thetender solicitude with which the veterans of the Grenadier Companylooked after the safety of their youthful commander, during thecampaigns of 1857; and my pen falters and my eyes grow dim with tears asmemory brings before me my gallant comrades in the ranks who fell beforeDelhi, or lost their lives through disease and exposure. 

I had been absent from my regiment during the whole of 1856, doing dutyat the Murree Convalescent Depot, and rejoined in March of the followingyear. Nothing occurred for the next two months to break the monotony oflife in an Indian cantonment. Parade in the early morning, rackets andbilliards during the day, a drive or ride along the Mall in the cool ofthe evening, and the usual mess dinner--these constituted the routine ofour uneventful existence. 

Many of the officers lamented the hard fate which had doomed them toservice in the East, while the more fortunate regiments had been earningfame and quick promotion in the Crimea and in the recent Persiancampaign. We little thought of what was in store for us, or of thevolcano which was smouldering under our feet. 

The signs of incipient mutiny in the native army had been confined, upto this time, to the Presidency of Bengal and to the regiments quarteredthere. With us at Ferozepore there was little, if any, indication of thecoming outbreak. True it was that some of us noticed sullen looks andstrange demeanour among the sepoys of the two battalions. They, onoccasions, passed our officers without the customary salute, and, ifmy memory serves, a complaint of this want of respect was forwarded totheir Colonels. Our billiard-marker, too, a high-caste Brahmin who hadserved on our side in the Afghan campaigns of 1839-42 in the capacityof a spy, a man of cunning and intelligence, warned us in unmistakableterms of the increasing disaffection among the sepoys of Ferozepore, andstated his opinion that the spirit of mutiny was rife among them. Welaughed at his fears, and dismissed from our minds all alarm, vauntingour superiority in arms to the dusky soldiery of Hindostan, and in ourhearts foolishly regarding them with lordly contempt. 

Thus passed in the usual quiet the first twelve days of the month ofMay, 1857. The morning of May 13 saw us, as usual, on parade; then, adjourning to the mess-house, we spent a few hours over breakfast andbilliards, and before midday separated to pass the heat of the dayreading, lounging, and sleeping at our respective bungalows. 

I occupied a large house some distance from the mess in company with afield-officer and the Adjutant of my regiment. The former, about1 p. M. , was summoned by an orderly to attend a meeting at the quartersof the Brigadier[1] commanding the troops at Ferozepore. We paid no heedto this incident, as it occurred to us that the Major's advice andopinion were required on some matter of regimental or other routine. 

Vicars and I were in the habit, since the hot weather began, of makingices every afternoon, and had become, from long practice, quiteproficient at the work. At three o'clock we were in the midst of ouroccupation, our whole thoughts and energies bent on the accomplishmentof our task. Clad in loose déshabillé, seated on the floor of thesitting-room, we worked and watched the process of congelation. 

Presently a quick step was heard in the hall, the door was thrown open, and the Major, rushing in, sank breathless into a chair. The Adjutantand I jumped up, and in our haste upset the utensils, spilling on thefloor the contents we had taken so much trouble to prepare. A minute ortwo passed, and still no word from our friend, who, portly in shape, andof a plethoric temperament, seemed overcome by some terrible excitement, and fairly gasped for breath. 

"What on earth is the matter?" we asked. 

Slowly, and as though uttered with considerable difficulty, the answercame:

"All the Europeans in India have been murdered!"

Now this was rather a startling announcement, and somewhat premature, considering that we three, at any rate, were in the land of the living, with no immediate prospect of coming dissolution. We looked at eachother, at first serious and alarmed, as became the gravity of thesituation, and utterly unable to comprehend what it all meant. Thisphase of the affair, however, did not last long, and soon changed fromgrave to gay. A merry twinkle appeared in Vicars' eyes, to which my ownresponded, and at last, fully alive to the absurdity of the gallantofficer's remark, our pent-up sense of the ridiculous was fairlyawakened, and we roared with laughter again and again. 

This unlooked-for result of his dismal communication roused the Major, who first rebuked us for our levity, and, after an interval occupied inthe recovery of his scattered senses, proceeded to acquaint us with thetrue facts of what had happened at the Brigadier's quarters. 

A despatch by telegraph had arrived that morning from Meerut, thelargest cantonment in Upper India, stating that the regiment of nativelight cavalry at that place had mutinied in a body on the 10th instant, and marched for Delhi. This had been followed by a revolt of all thesepoy infantry and artillery, a rising of the natives in the city, thebazaars and the surrounding country, who, almost unchecked, had murderedthe European men and women on whom they could lay their hands, andbesides, had set fire to and "looted" many houses in the station. Fortunately for the safety of the English in India, the miscreantsfailed to cut the telegraph-wires at Meerut till too late, and the newsof the mutiny and outrage was as quickly as possible flashed to everycantonment in the country. 

The Brigadier had therefore ordered the commanding and field officersof the different regiments stationed at Ferozepore to meet him inconsultation at his quarters. Intelligence so startling as that justreceived required no small amount of judgment and deliberation indealing with the native soldiers at this cantonment, and some timeelapsed before the council decided as to what was best to be done underthe circumstances. 

Finally it was resolved that a general parade of Her Majesty's 61st Footand the battery of European artillery should be held at four o'clockon the lines in front of the barracks of the former corps. The tworegiments of native infantry were to assemble at the same time, and, with their English Officers, were ordered to march from their quarters, taking separate directions: the 45th to proceed into the country, leaving the fort of Ferozepore on their right, while the 57th were tomarch out of cantonments to the left rear of the lines of the Europeaninfantry. The commanding officers of these regiments were alsoinstructed to keep their men, if possible, well in hand, to allow nostraggling, and to halt in the country until further orders after theyhad proceeded three or four miles. The remaining regiment, the 10thNative Light Cavalry, for some reason or other was considered staunch(and as events proved, it remained so for a time), and it was thereforeordained that the troopers should parade mounted and under arms in theirown lines ready for any emergency. 

Thus far we learnt from the Major, and Vicars, whose duties as Adjutantrequired his presence at the barracks at once, donned his uniform, and, mounting his horse, rode in all haste to give directions for the generalparade. 

Shortly before four o'clock the Major and I also left the house andjoined the regiment, which was drawn up in open column of companies infront of the lines. 

Notice had previously been sent to the married officers in the stationdirecting them to make immediate arrangements for the transport of theirwives and families to the barracks. This order was obeyed without lossof time, and before half-past four all the ladies and children in thecantonment were safe under the protection of our soldiers at the mainguard. 

The barracks of the European infantry at Ferozepore were distant halfa mile from the station, and consisted of ten or twelve large detachedbuildings, one for each company, arranged in echelon, with some thirtypaces between each. In front of these was the parade-ground wherewe were drawn up, and before us an open plain, 300 yards in width, extending to the entrenched camp, or, as it was generally called, thefort and arsenal of Ferozepore. The space around the fort was quiteclear, its position being directly opposite the centre of thecantonment, from which it was separated by some 200 yards. 

From our situation on parade we had a direct and unbroken view ofthe localities I have endeavoured to describe, and holding thisvantage-ground, we should be enabled to act as circumstances mightrequire. 

The regiment wheeled into line more than 900 strong. One hundred menunder command of a field-officer were then detached, with orders todisarm the sepoy guard in the fort, and to remain there on duty pendingany attempt which might probably be made by the two native regiments togain forcible possession of the arsenal. 

The detachment marched off, and we watched our comrades cross the plain, and enter without molestation the gates of the fort. 

In anxious expectation we waited for the result, when, after a shortinterval, shots were heard, and we knew that our men had engaged thesepoy guard. The firing was continuous while it lasted, but soon diedaway. A mounted officer then rode out at the gate, and, galloping towhere the Colonel was standing, reported that the sepoys, when orderedto lay down their arms, refused, and that one of them, taking direct aimat the Major, [2] shot him in the thigh, leaving a dangerous wound. Ourmen then poured a volley into the mutineers, who fired in return, butfortunately without causing any casualty on our side. Two sepoys hadbeen killed and several wounded, while the remainder, offering nofurther resistance, were disarmed and made prisoners. 

Meantime the regiment stood under arms in line, and another company wassent to reinforce the men in the fort. 

Amid great excitement, more especially among the young soldiers, wewaited to see what would follow when the sepoy battalions marching fromcantonments into the country appeared in sight. Eagerly it was whisperedamongst us, "Will the rascals fight, or remain loyal and obedient to theorders of their officers?"

The evening was drawing on apace, but at last, about six o'clock, theheads of the columns emerged from the houses and gardens of the station, the 45th Native Infantry advancing in almost a direct line to thefort, while the 57th Native Infantry were inclined to their right, andfollowed the road leading to the rear of our lines. All eyes were turnedon the former regiment, and its movements were ardently scanned. 

Closer and closer they came to the fort, till, when only about fiftypaces distant, the column wavered. We could see the officers rushingabout among their men, and in another instant the whole mass brokeinto disorder and ran pell-mell in hundreds towards the ditch whichsurrounded the entrenchment. 

This was of no depth, with sloping sides, and easy to escalade, and inless time than I take to write it the sepoys, with a shout, jumped intothe trench, scrambled up the parapet, and disappeared from our sightinto the enclosure. 

It was not long before we heard the sound of firing, and shots came inquick succession, maddening us beyond control, for we thought of ourmen, few in number and scattered over the fort, opposed to some five orsix hundred of these savages. 

We had loaded with ball-cartridge soon after forming on parade, and themen now grasped their muskets, and cries and murmurs were heard, "Whydo we not advance?" and all this couched in language more forcible thanpolite. 

The order at last was given to fix bayonets, and then came the welcomewords:

"The line will advance. "

Every heart thrilled with excitement. All longed to have a brush withthe mutineers, and help our comrades in the fort who were fightingagainst such odds. 

Twenty paces only we advanced, and then, by the Brigadier's command, ourColonel[3] gave the order to halt. 

The men were furious, and could hardly be restrained from marchingforward, when, looking towards the outer side of the fort, we saw somesepoys on the ramparts, evidently in a state of panic, throw themselvesinto the ditch, and mounting the other side, run helterhelterskelterinto the country. These were followed by numbers of others, who all madeoff as fast as their legs would carry them, and then we heard a trueBritish cheer, our men appeared on the walls shooting at the fugitives, bayonetting and driving them over the glacis. 

The fight had continued some twenty minutes, and was pretty severe whileit lasted. A few of our men were more or less hurt, but of the sepoysmany had been killed and wounded. About 100 also had laid down theirarms, and, begging for mercy, were taken prisoners. 

Nothing could have been more culpable than the conduct of the Brigadierin not advancing a portion, at any rate, of my regiment to the fort atthe time the sepoys broke their ranks and entered the entrenchment. Hadhe done so, it is probable that not one of the mutineers of the 45thNative Infantry would have escaped, nor would the havoc which afterwardsoccurred in the cantonment have taken place. But he was an old EastIndia Company's officer, and had served upwards of forty years in thenative army, having to the last, like many others at that eventful time, implicit confidence in the loyalty of the sepoys. He feared, also, theresponsibility of letting loose the English soldiery to wreak theirvengeance on the mutineers, knowing too well that, with passions rousedand hearts steeled to pity by the murders and outrages committed atMeerut, and the late wounding of their field-officer, our men would havegiven no quarter. The Brigadier was one of the very few officers in highcommand at the outbreak of the Mutiny who were found wanting in the timeof trial. His, no doubt, was a hard task; but, had he shown the smallestaptitude to meet the crisis, there would have been no difficulty, withthe ample means at his disposal, in disarming without bloodshed thewhole native force at Ferozepore, and so crushing the rebellion at thatstation. 

Night came, and we still remained in line under arms without havingmoved a foot from where we were halted. Conjectures were rife as to whatwould next happen. Officers and men were grieved, no less than annoyed, at the state of inaction in which we had been kept, and an uneasyfeeling prevailed that during the night the mutinous sepoys, aided bythe _badmashes_, or bad characters, who swarmed in the bazaars and cityof Ferozepore, would, under cover of the darkness, run riot over thecantonment, without our being called on to interfere. 

And so, unhappily, it came to pass. The native cavalry at about eighto'clock marched down to our lines, and drew up on the right of theregiment, the European artillery being on our left flank. 

Soon after their arrival the arms were piled and the men fell out ofthe ranks, some to lie down on the ground, others forming in groups anddiscussing the strange events of the day. 

Suddenly a light was seen in the direction of the cantonment, whichquickly turned into a blaze of fire. What new horror was this? Were ourhouses to be gutted and burnt before our eyes without any attempt toprevent such outrage?

The men, at the first appearance of fire, had sprung to their feet andalmost involuntarily seized their arms. Surely a detachment would besent to clear the cantonment of the incendiaries? Even this was notdone: the Brigadier was absent, or could not be found, and our Colonelintimated to some officers who spoke to him on the subject that he couldgive no orders without the chief's consent. 

So, incredible though it may appear, we stood and watched the fires, which followed each other in quick succession till the whole cantonmentseemed in a blaze, and the flames, darting up in every direction, lighted up the surrounding country. 

We could hear distinctly the shouts of the scoundrels, and pictured toourselves the black wretches holding high carnival among the burningbuildings and laughing at the white soldiers, who, with arms in theirhands, remained motionless in their own lines. 

That night more than twenty houses were burnt to the ground. The Englishchurch, we afterwards heard, was first fired, then the Roman Catholicchapel, our mess-house, and nineteen other bungalows. The sepoys, mostlyof the 45th Native Infantry, attended by dozens of _badmashes_, marchedunchallenged through the station with lighted torches fixed on longbamboo poles, with which they set fire to the thatched roofs of thevarious houses. 

All night long we lay by our arms, watching the destruction of ourproperty, and thankful only that the wives and children of our officersand men were safe under our care, and not exposed to the fury of thewretches engaged in their fiendish work. 

Even after this long lapse of years, I cannot think of that nightwithout a feeling of shame. Here were 700 men, mostly veterans, of oneof Her Majesty's regiments, doomed to inaction through the blunderingand stupid perverseness of an old sepoy Brigadier. The same unhappyevents as those I have narrated occurred at the outbreak of the Mutinyin three other stations in the Bengal Presidency. 

The commanders would not act against their trusted sepoys, who, as inour case, plundered, outraged, and destroyed all and everything thatcame in their way. 

_May 14_. --The morning of May 14 dawned, close and hot, not a breath ofwind stirring. The sun rose like a ball of fire, and shortly afterwardswe were startled by an explosion which shook the earth under our feet, and sounded like a heavy peal of thunder in the still morning air. Looking in the direction of the report, we saw on the far right sideof the cantonment a thick black column of smoke shoot up high into theatmosphere. A quarter of an hour passed, and then another detonationsimilar to the first sounded in our ears on the left rear flank, followed, as before, by a dense cloud of smoke. 

We said to ourselves: "Will the arsenal next be blown up?" In the fortwas stored an immense quantity of powder and munitions of war, and, fearing that perhaps some rebel might have found his way in for thepurpose of devoting his life to the destruction of the entrenchment andthe annihilation of the European guard, we remained anxiously expectantfor some time. 

No cause could be assigned for the explosions we had heard, but wewere informed subsequently that, by the orders of our commander, themagazines or bells of arms belonging to the two native regiments hadbeen blown up by a party of sappers in the fear that they might fallinto the hands of the rebellious sepoys. It was a futile precaution, anda mere waste of ammunition; for nothing could have been easier than tosend the contents of the magazines under our escort to the arsenal. 

At eight o'clock we were dismissed to barracks, and left the spot wherewe had stood in line inert and inactive since four o'clock the previousafternoon. 

Shortly after breakfast I was sent for by the Colonel to theorderly-room, and informed that it was the wish of the Brigadier that Ishould proceed with my company into the cantonments. I was orderedto make strict search for, and to take prisoner, any sepoys or badcharacters that might be lurking about; and to this end I was topatrol the station from one side to the other. I was also to visitthe commissariat quarters, disarm the native guard, using force ifnecessary, and secure the treasure chest, which contained some 20, 000rupees. 

It struck me that this duty might very well have been performed manyhours before. Why had not a company been detailed to patrol thecantonment the previous evening, or, at any rate, at the first sign ofincendiarism?

However, I started without delay with ninety Grenadiers, and marchedover a great part of the station, extending the company in skirmishingorder whenever we passed through the numerous large gardens, orchards, and enclosures. 

Not a soul was to be seen, and the place seemed entirely deserted. Thesepoys, after their work of destruction, must have left during thenight, and were now probably well on their way to Delhi, while the_badmashes_ who had assisted them had returned quietly to theiroccupations in the bazaars of the city. 

The cantonment presented a complete scene of desolation. The church andchapel were a heap of burnt-up and smouldering ruins, our mess-house thesame, and numerous bungalows--former residences of the officers--werestill on fire. The heat from the burning embers was intense, and as wepassed slowly by we viewed, with anger in our hearts, the lamentableresults of the timidity and vacillation, the irresolution and culpableneglect, of one man. 

Lastly, we visited the commissariat quarters at the far side of thestation. Here there was no guard, not even a native in charge. Strangeinconsistency! It turned out that, some hours before our arrival, thesepoy guard, true in this respect to their trust, had procured a cart, taken the treasure to the fort, there handed it over to the officer atthe gate, and then started for Delhi. 

My duty was accomplished, and I marched the Grenadiers back to barracks, then reported the unsatisfactory result of my mission to the Colonel;and, thoroughly tired and worn out from want of rest, I threw myself ona bed and slept soundly for some hours. 

We were told that afternoon that the 57th Native Infantry, who hadmarched to the rear of our barracks the evening before, had remainedquietly in the country during the night without one sepoy showing anymutinous disposition. In the early morning, without molesting theirEnglish officers, about half the regiment signified their intention ofmarching down-country; while of the rest, some 300 men returned to theirlines at Ferozepore, and on being called upon to do so by the Colonel, laid down their arms. 

It must be recorded to the credit of these regiments that no officer washurt by them, or even insulted. The sepoys quietly but firmly announcedthat they released themselves from the service of the East IndiaCompany, and were about to become enrolled as subjects of the King ofDelhi. Then, in several instances even saluting their officers andshowing them every mark of respect, they turned their faces to the greatfocus of rebellion, to swell the number of those who were about to fightagainst us in the Mohammedan capital of Hindostan. 

The officers of these two corps were more fortunate than their comradesof other regiments throughout the land, many of whom were shot down bytheir own sepoys in cold blood under circumstances of signal barbarity. They saw their wives and children murdered before their faces, whilethose who escaped the fury of the sepoys wandered in helpless flightthrough jungles and plains, suffering incredible privations. Some fewthere were who reached a friendly station, or were succoured and hiddenby loyal natives. But the greater number fell by the hands of thewretches who in these times of outrage and anarchy swarmed out of thelow quarters of the cities, and swept unchecked over the whole countryin hundreds and thousands. 

The officers had taken up their quarters in the barracks in one or thecentre buildings, which was reserved entirely for their use. Here weendeavoured to make ourselves as comfortable as possible under thecircumstances, the large apartment serving at once as mess-housesitting-room and bedroom for us all. The Colonel alone lived apart, while the married ladies and their families for the present occupied themain guard bungalow pending arrangements for more suitable quarters. 

The poor ladies, as was natural, were in a state of great agitation, andwould not be comforted. We did our best to quiet their fears, tellingthem there was not the slightest danger as regarded their safety; that, even were we attacked by the rebels, they need have no dread of theresult, for we were more than a match for double our number of sepoys. Still, it pained us much to see their distress, and we could only bethankful that, come what might, they were under the protection ofBritish soldiers. 

On the evening of May 14, at sunset, I was sitting smoking and chattingin the barrack-room with some of our officers when, quite unexpectedly, I was again called to the orderly-room, and directed to march with theGrenadier company on outlying picket to the left rear of the cantonment, and close to the lines of the disarmed sepoys. Two guns of the LightField Battery, under a subaltern, were also placed under my orders, andI took with me a young ensign to assist me in my duties. 

The Brigadier said he had received intelligence that an attack by themutineers was expected from the direction of Lahore; and I was told tokeep a sharp lookout, in case the enemy made during the night a flankmovement on the station. I was also constantly to patrol the lines ofthe native regiments, to confine the sepoys to their huts, and to takeprisoner any who ventured outside. 

The short Indian twilight was drawing to a close when I arrived on theground, and, without losing time, I drew up the Grenadiers in line, withthe two guns a little in advance and on my left flank. 

Two sentries were posted in front of the guns, two on the right and leftof my small detachment, and two in the rear. 

The plain extended before us for miles to the horizon, bare andtreeless, without one intervening obstacle. 

Evening closed and night came on--a night dark as Erebus, though thestars shone bright and luminous in the heavens. All nature was silentas the grave, and, save for the tramp of the sentinels and the marchingaway and return of the patrolling parties, for hours we heard no sound. 

Before leaving barracks the picket had loaded the guns with grape andthe old Brown Bess (there were no rifles in most of the Indian regimentsin those far-off days) with ball-cartridge. I had also ordered themen to fix bayonets, and we were thus fully prepared to give a warmreception to any sepoys who might attack us. The arms were piled, and insilence we lay on the ground. 

Presently, about midnight, one of the sentinels in front of the gunschallenged:

"Who comes there?"

There was no answer, and the cry was repeated, the sentry at the samemoment firing off his musket. 

The company sprang to their arms, and I called on the sentries in frontto retreat under cover of the guns. Almost simultaneously, and beforethe men could retire, flashes of fire appeared on the plain, andnumerous shots came whistling over our heads, while, clear and distinct, a cry rang out, and we knew that one of the sentries had been hit. Closefollowing the first came several straggling shots, but the rascals firedtoo high, and we had no casualty. I then ordered the men to fire avolley, and the artillery officer at the same time swept his front withgrape from the two guns. 

After these discharges all was still, and we strained our eyes in thedarkness, but could see nothing. Then, taking with me a sergeant andfour men, I proceeded to where the sentry had made the first challenge. 

We found the poor fellow lying face downwards on the ground, and raisinghim up, saw that he was quite dead. Slowly and tenderly the body wasborne to the picket, and on examination by the light of a lantern, wediscovered that he had received a bullet over the region of the heart, and that death, therefore, must have been instantaneous. My heartsickened at the sight; this was my first contact with the horrors ofwar, and the remembrance will remain with me to my dying day. 

The other sentinel was then questioned, and from him we learnt that, peering through the darkness when the challenge was first given, he hadseen figures passing in his front across the plain. Soon they halted andfired, and then disappeared, probably having lain down to escape beinghit by our men. Hearing this, I sent out a small reconnoitring party, which patrolled the plain for some distance. They returned with thenews that all was quiet, and no human being was to be seen. Two freshsentries were placed in front of the guns, and the men lay down asbefore, fully expecting another attack. 

_May 15_. --All, however, passed off without further incident, and atsunrise I marched the picket to barracks and reported myself to theBrigadier. He made no comment on the events of the night, nor did heeven ask for particulars as to the manner of the soldier's death. Themutineers, he said, were in scattered detachments still, no doubtprowling about the outskirts of the cantonment and in the neighbouringvillages, taking advantage of every opportunity to harass and inflictloss on our soldiers. 

From this time forward for nearly a month, with the single exception ofone encounter with a body of mutineers, which I shall relate hereafter, no event of importance occurred at Ferozepore. 

The chief danger had passed from our midst in the flight towards Delhiof more than half of the two battalions of sepoys, the disarmament of300 of the 57th, and the imprisonment of those who had been capturedfighting when attempting to take the arsenal. 

Everything being thus comparatively peaceful, with no enemy in thevicinity, the Brigadier at last woke up to a sense of his duty; andextraordinary measures were taken by his command for the safety of thecantonments and lines of Ferozepore. 

It was ordered that one company should be placed each night on advancedoutlying picket, another on rear picket, and a third to be stationed atthe main guard to furnish sentries as a cordon round the whole extentof the barracks. Two companies were to remain constantly in the fort incharge of a senior Captain, so that, out of the ten companies, six werealways on duty. 

Under the excitement which first prevailed, and the necessity of beingprepared in case of a night attack from the roving bands of rebellioussoldiery who from all directions were making for the imperial city, plundering and ravaging on the route, this duty was cheerfullyundertaken. But as time went by, and week succeeded week, without ashot being fired to relieve the monotony of our lives, the work becameirksome in the extreme. 

The regiment therefore fell into a regular groove of guard and picketduty. We longed to have a fight with the enemy, and still were doomed toremain in a state of masterly inactivity. At the fort the work was mosttrying, and resolved itself into a course of manual labour. There it wasordered that under the ammunition sheds deep pits were to be dug in theground. This duty was performed entirely by the English soldiers, andcontinued for a fortnight in the hottest season of the year. In thereceptacles thus formed all the barrels of powder, as well as the smallarms, ammunition, etc. , were packed and stowed away, the whole beingcovered with earth to the depth of several feet. This was a very needfulexpedient, for a stray spark might have blown up the vast stores ofmunitions of war, without which it would have been impossible to carryon future operations against the enemy. No fires for any purpose werepermitted in the fort, and, greatest deprivation of all, the men werenot allowed to smoke during the twenty-four hours they were on guard. 

Three or four days after the outbreak, and when everything seemed quietin and around the cantonment, two officers and myself, taking with ussome native labourers carrying spades and shovels, proceeded, underorders from our Colonel, to search for the silver plate buried underthe ruins of our mess-house. We found the brick walls standing; but allinside the building was one mass of ashes and still-smouldering embers. 

We knew the locality of the plate chest, and, setting the coolies towork, after infinite labour, which lasted some hours, we succeeded inremoving a vast heap of cinders, and found portions of the silver. Alittle lower down we came on more; and here were seen spoons meltedalmost out of shape by fire. The large silver dishes, plates andcups--many of the latter of priceless value, for they had been acquiredby the regiment during the Peninsular War--were lying one on top of theother just as they had been placed in the chest, but all ruined anddisfigured, half melted and blackened from the intense heat. 

Close by, where they had fallen off a table, were the four massivesilver candelabra, the gift of distinguished officers who had formerlyserved in the corps. These were twisted out of all shape, and beyondhope of repair, of no value but for the bullion. Other articles therewere, such as snuff-boxes, drinking-horns, and table ornaments; not onesingle piece of silver had escaped the action of the fire. 

It was a sorry sight to look on the total destruction of our beautifulmess furniture. Costly goods had been sacrificed which no money couldreplace; not one single article belonging to the officers had beensaved. 

Gathering together all the silver we could find, and lamenting theincompetence by which we had lost property amounting in value to £2, 000, we placed everything in a cart and conveyed it to the barracks. 

Many months afterwards the Government directed a committee of officersto value the effects destroyed by the mutineers, to the end thatremuneration might be granted to the regiment for loss sustained. Thiscommittee, after due consideration, placed the estimate at a very lowfigure--viz. , £1, 500. The parsimony of those in power refused usfull payment of this just debt, intimated also that the demand wasexorbitant, and closed all further action in the matter by sending us adraft on the Treasury for half the amount claimed. 

For the first week or ten days after the outbreak at Ferozepore we knewvery little of what was occurring down-country, as well as throughoutthe Punjab, the province of the "Five Rivers" to our north. In thatnewly-acquired territory there were twenty-six regiments of the nativearmy, while the Sikhs, the warlike people who inhabited the land, hadmet us in deadly conflict only nine years before. From the latter, then, as well as from the sepoys, there was cause for great anxiety. Everyprecaution, therefore, was necessary to guard the Ferozepore Arsenal, the largest, next to Delhi, in Upper India. The temper of the Sikhswas uncertain; no one could foretell which side they would take in thecoming struggle. Our Empire in Hindostan--during the month of May moreespecially--trembled in the balance. There was infinite cause for alarmfor months afterwards even to the Fall of Delhi; but at no time were wein such a strait as at that period when the loyalty or defection of theSikh regiments and people was an open question. 

The genius of Sir John Lawrence, the Chief Commissioner of the Punjab, warded off the danger. That eminent man, the saviour of India, issued aproclamation calling on the Sikhs to aid us in our trouble. They cameat once in hundreds--nay, thousands--to enlist on our side. Veterans ofRunjeet Singh's Khalsa army, the men who had withstood us on equal termsin many sanguinary battles, animated by intense hatred of the Poorbeahsepoy, enrolled themselves in the ranks of the British army, and foughtfaithfully for us to the end of the war. Their help was our safety;without these soldiers, and the assistance rendered by their chieftains, Delhi could never have been taken; while, on the other hand, had theyrisen and cast in their lot with the mutinous sepoys, no power on earthcould have saved us from total annihilation. 

The Sikhs are the beau-ideal of soldiers. Tall and erect in bearing, wiry and well-knit, and of great muscular development, their wholeappearance stamps them as men who look upon themselves as "lords of thesoil, " whom it would be difficult to conquer. And without doubt thecampaigns of 1845-46 and 1848-49 were the hardest in which we had beenengaged in India. 

For 100 years they had dominated the land of the Five Rivers. Ever eagerfor war, their turbulent spirits gave them no rest. It had been a beliefthat they would in the future acquire the sovereignty of Hindostan, andI know for certain that among the soldiers for many years there had beena tradition that one day they would sack the imperial city of Delhi. 

The latter expectation was in a manner fulfilled; but not as anindependent nation or under their own leaders did they capture andplunder the Mohammedan capital: they accomplished that feat as loyalsubjects of the British Crown. 

Every now and then news reached us of the spread of the Mutiny, tillfrom Calcutta to Peshawar there were few stations where the nativetroops had not joined in the rebellion. Cavalry, infantry, andartillery, all had risen in revolt. The wave of mutiny was surging toand fro throughout the land, and as yet little had been done to stem thetide. True, a small force was being assembled at Umballah, which, underthe Commander-in-Chief, was about to march to Delhi, but of the doingsof that army we could learn no satisfactory tidings. 

The closing days of the month of May passed wearily by, and time hungheavily on our hands. We felt the inevitable reaction from the first fewdays of excitement, and also missed the comforts and ease to which wehad been accustomed in former hot seasons. The barracks were close andstuffy, and the officers, in place of the luxury of their bungalows andtheir pleasant mess, had to endure privations of every kind. 

Hot winds, parching up the already arid ground, blew fiercely everyday. At sunset the breeze usually died away; and though the temperaturelessened somewhat in degree, we felt a choking sensation from theeffects of the dry, still atmosphere. No officer slept in thebarrack-room; our servants carried the beds outside, and there, lyingdown and gasping for breath, we vainly courted the sleep that would notcome. 

There was, however, a humorous side to this desolate picture, whichI must now relate, as it shows that, notwithstanding the state ofdejection to which we had been reduced, there still lurked a spirit offun and mischief among the officers. 

For some time after the revolt we had "night-attacks" on the brain. Nothing was spoken of but the chance of our lines being assaulted bywandering bodies of mutinous sepoys. The order-book each evening, reminding us of the danger, inculcated strict vigilance on picket andon guard. So long did this last without any attack being made that theshadowy expectation of what never occurred became our bugbear, a chimerawhich haunted us night and day. 

At last, in a happy hour, it entered into the mind of one of our youngLieutenants, an Irishman, imbued with the spirit of fun, and thejolliest fellow in the regiment, that this illusion under which we wereall labouring might be made the subject for a frolic. 

He communicated his ideas to myself and some others of the juniorofficers, and it was then and there decided that, as the sepoys wouldnot attack us, we would create a little excitement and diversion byplaying for the nonce the role of mutineers. 

The council of war then agreed unanimously that an assault was to bemade on the remaining officers when asleep outside the barracks, andthat the weapons to be used should be bolsters and pillows. 

A certain night was fixed on for the accomplishment of our purpose, andthe signal for the attack was to be given by the originator of the plot, who would take upon himself to make sure that the enemy were off theirguard, wrapped in the arms of Morpheus. 

Everything had been arranged to our satisfaction, and the eventful nightcame. At ten o'clock lights were put out, and the assaulting party, consisting of six stalwart young subalterns, lay down on their bedsoutside the barracks, ranged here and there among those who were to playthe part of the enemy, and waited for the signal from our commander. 

Our opponents seemed to take an unconscionable long time in going tosleep, but at length, in the small hours of the morning, when all wasquiet, the "alarm" was sounded in a low whistle. 

Jumping up from our beds, each man armed himself with a bolster. Instern and solemn silence our force was marshalled for the attack, andthen, without any word of warning, each one began belabouring with allhis might the recumbent figures of the foe. 

Startled out of their sleep, and in a half-dreamy state ofunconsciousness, it may be imagined with what strange feelings theyreceived this assault. Some, more especially the older officers (forin our zeal we spared no one), seemed perfectly bewildered, and in themidst of the shower of blows which rained on them without intermissionvowed vengeance and threatened to put us under arrest. We answered themthat this was a "night-attack, " and they must prepare for defence, as noquarter would be given. 

Even the fat and portly Major, notwithstanding his rank, felt thestrength of our arms, and, almost bereft of breath between each blow, commanded us to desist. He might as well have spoken to the winds: ourblood was up, and the spirit of fun had taken possession, so that Iverily believe, had the Colonel or Brigadier been lying there, neitherof them would have escaped our onslaught. 

The enemy were now fully aroused, and, not relishing the fun of beingbuffeted unmercifully in their beds without resistance, they one and allturned out and, seizing their pillows, joined in the fight. The attack, begun with tactical judgment, turned now into a confused mêlée. Friendand foe were mixed up in one grand shindy, and for many minutes thebattle continued without intermission. Blows fell fast and thick; therewas a rushing about of half-clad figures swaying bolsters, and each oneintent on the same object--namely, that of overcoming his antagonist forthe time being. So weird, and yet so utterly ludicrous a sight, surelynever has been seen before or since in India. 

At length, from sheer exhaustion, the combat came to an end, and, sitting on our beds panting from fatigue, and overcome by the heat ofthe night, we discussed the incidents of the fight. Some of the seniorofficers seemed at first inclined to treat the attack as something morethan a joke, and threatened to report us to the Colonel. We pointed outto them that such a proceeding would be absurd, for had they not alsocompromised themselves by joining in the fray? It was not long, however, before they were struck with the grand ridiculousness of this verystrange episode; and the question at issue, as may naturally besupposed, ended in laughter. Peace being restored, we wished each othergood-night, and, thoroughly worn out by our exertions, all slept soundlytill break of day. 

The affair was kept quiet as far as possible, but gradually got noisedabroad among other regiments of Her Majesty's infantry. Great amusementwas caused by the recital, nor for a long period afterwards was thecomical "night-attack" at Ferozepore forgotten. 

The trial of the sepoys who had been taken prisoners when resistingthe detachment sent to disarm them in the fort, and of those also whoattacked the arsenal on May 13, had been proceeding for some time. Itwas a general court-martial composed of thirteen officers, presided overby a Lieutenant-Colonel. Of the prisoners taken, some 100 were singledout as the ringleaders, the rest being put back for trial till a futureoccasion. 

The evidence was most clear as to the heinous offences of mutiny andrebellion with regard to all these men, and they were accordingly foundguilty. Sentence was at once pronounced on fourteen of the sepoys, andthe punishment was death. 

Two men of low caste were to be hanged, while the remaining twelve, comprising Mohammedans and high-caste Hindoos, were to expiate theircrime by that most awful and ghastly penalty, execution by being blownto pieces from the mouths of cannons. 

This terrible punishment had been but seldom inflicted during Britishrule in India, the last instance occurring in 1825, when a nativeregiment mutinied and refused to cross the sea to take part in the firstBurmese War. 

Neither was it from the English that this special death penaltyoriginated. It had been for hundreds of years the recognized punishmentfor mutiny and rebellion throughout Hindostan, and in numberless caseswas carried out by the Mogul Emperors. 

With us at this period it was found necessary to strike terror into thehearts of the rebels, to prove to them that we were resolved at allhazards to crush the revolt, and to give warning that to those who weretaken fighting against us no mercy would be shown. 

On religious grounds also the infliction of the death penalty by blowingaway mutineers at the mouths of cannons was dreaded both by the Hindoosand Mohammedans. 

The Hindoo, unless the corpse after death is burnt to ashes with allceremony, or else consigned to the sacred stream of the Ganges, cannot partake of the glories of the future state, nor dwell in blisseverlasting with the gods of his mythology. 

So with the Mohammedan, the Koran enjoins that all true believersmust be buried with the body in the natural state, and only those areexempted who have lost limbs in fighting against the infidel. The joysof Paradise, where ever-young and beautiful houris minister to the wantsand pleasures of the faithful, were therefore not for those who meta shameful death and were denied or unable to obtain burial in theorthodox manner. 

Thus, it will be seen, the terrors of future shame and dishonourresulted to both Hindoo and Mohammedan by the death we were about toinflict on them; and it was for the awe inspired by the punishment thatthe military authorities at this time thought proper to carry it out inthis unaccustomed manner. 

_June 13_. --The morning of June 13 was fixed upon for the execution. Agallows was erected on the plain to the north side of the fort, facingthe native bazaars, and at a distance of some 300 yards. On this twosepoys were to be hanged, and at the same time their comrades in mutinywere to be blown away from guns. 

We paraded at daylight every man off duty, and, with the band playing, marched to the place of execution, and drew up in line near the gallowsand opposite the native quarter. 

Shortly after our arrival the European Light Field Battery, of six guns, appeared on the scene, forming up on our left flank, and about twentyyards in front of the Light Company. 

The morning was close and sultry, not a cloud in the sky, and not abreath of wind stirring; and I confess I felt sick with a suffocatingsense of horror when I reflected on the terrible sight I was about towitness. 

Soon the fourteen mutineers, under a strong escort of our men with fixedbayonets, were seen moving from the fort. They advanced over the plainat our rear, and drew up to the left front of, and at right angles to, the battery of artillery. 

I was standing at the extreme right of the line with the GrenadierCompany, and some distance from the guns; but I had provided myself witha pair of strong glasses, and therefore saw all that followed clearlyand distinctly. 

There was no unnecessary delay in the accomplishment of the tragedy. Twoof the wretched creatures were marched off to the gallows, and placedwith ropes round their necks on a raised platform under the beam. 

The order was given for the guns to be loaded, and quick as thought theEuropean artillerymen placed a quarter charge of powder in each piece. The guns were 9-pounders, the muzzles standing about 3 feet from theground. 

During these awful preparations, I watched at intervals the faces of thecondemned men, but could detect no traces of fear or agitation in theirdemeanour. The twelve stood two deep, six in front and six in the rear, calm and undismayed, without uttering a word. 

An officer came forward, and, by the Brigadier's order, read thesentence of the court-martial, and at its conclusion the six men infront, under escort, walked towards the battery. 

There was a death-like silence over the scene at this time, and, overcome with horror, my heart seemed almost to cease beating. 

Arrived at the guns, the culprits were handed over to the artillerymen, who, ready prepared with strong ropes in their hands, seized theirvictims. Each of these, standing erect, was bound to a cannon andtightly secured, with the small of the back covering the muzzle. Andthen all at once the silence which reigned around was broken by theoaths and yells of those about to die. These sounds were not uttered bymen afraid of death, for they showed the most stoical indifference, but were the long-suppressed utterances of dying souls, who, in thebitterness of their hearts, cursed those who had been instrumentalin condemning them to this shameful end. They one and all poured outmaledictions on our heads; and in their language, one most rich inexpletives, they exhausted the whole vocabulary. 

Meanwhile the gunners stood with lighted port-fires, waiting for theword of command to fire the guns and launch the sepoys into eternity. 

These were still yelling and raining abuse, some even looking over theirshoulders and watching without emotion the port-fires, about to beapplied to the touch-holes, when the word "Fire!" sounded from theofficer in command, and part of the tragedy was at an end. 

A thick cloud of smoke issued from the muzzles of the cannons, throughwhich were distinctly seen by several of us the black heads of thevictims, thrown many feet into the air. 

While this tragic drama was enacting, the two sepoys to be hanged wereturned off the platform. 

The artillerymen again loaded the guns, the six remaining prisoners, cursing like their comrades, were bound to them, another discharge, andthen an execution, the like of which I hope never to see again, wascompleted. 

All this time a sickening, offensive smell pervaded the air, a stenchwhich only those who have been present at scenes such as these canrealize--the pungent odour of burnt human flesh. 

The artillerymen had neglected putting up back-boards to their guns, sothat, horrible to relate, at each discharge the recoil threw back piecesof burning flesh, bespattering the men and covering them with blood andcalcined remains. 

A large concourse of natives from the bazaars and city had assembled infront of the houses, facing the guns at a distance, as I said before, ofsome 300 yards, to watch the execution. At the second discharge of thecannon, and on looking before me, I noticed the ground torn up and earththrown a slight distance into the air more than 200 paces away. Almostat the same time there was a commotion among the throng in front, somerunning to and fro, while others ran off in the direction of the houses. I called the attention of an officer who was standing by my side to thisstrange and unaccountable phenomenon, and said, half joking: "Surely thescattered limbs of the sepoys have not been carried so far?"

He agreed with me that such was impossible; but how to account for thesight we had seen was quite beyond our comprehension. 

The drama came to an end about six o'clock, and as is usual, even aftera funeral or a military execution, the band struck up an air, and wemarched back to barracks, hoping soon to drive from our minds therecollection of the awful scenes we had witnessed. 

Two or three hours after our return news arrived that one native hadbeen killed and two wounded among the crowd which had stood in ourfront, spectators of the recent execution. How this happened hasnever been explained. At this time a "cantonment guard" was mounted, consisting of a company of European infantry, half a troop of the 10thLight Cavalry, and four guns, and two of these guns loaded with grapewere kept ready during the night, the horses being harnessed, etc. Half the cavalry also was held in readiness, saddled; in fact, everyprecaution was taken to meet an attack. 

As far as I can recollect, there were but two executions by blowing awayfrom guns on any large scale by us during the Mutiny; one of them thatat Ferozepore. 

[Illustration: Plan of the Military Station at FEROZEPORE]

[Footnote 1: Brigadier-General Innes. ]

[Footnote 2: Major Redmond. ]

[Footnote 3: Colonel William Jones, C. B. ]

CHAPTER II

ON THE MARCH

After the excitement of the late executions we were prepared to relapseinto our usual state of inaction and monotony, when, on the morningof June 13, a courier arrived from Lahore, the headquarters of theExecutive Government of the Punjab. He brought instructions and ordersfrom Sir John Lawrence to the Brigadier commanding at Ferozepore to theeffect that a wing of Her Majesty's 61st Regiment was to proceed at onceto reinforce the army under Sir Henry Barnard, now besieging the city ofDelhi. 

That force, on June 8, had fought an action with the mutineers atBadli-ki-Serai, four miles from Delhi, driving them from theirentrenched position and capturing thirteen guns. The siege of theMohammedan stronghold had begun on the next day, but the small bandof English, Sikhs, and Goorkhas which composed the force was quiteinadequate to the task entrusted to it, and, in truth, could do nothingbut act on the defensive against the horde of rebellious sepoys, whooutnumbered them by four to one. 

It may be conceived with what joy the order to advance was received bythe officers and men of my regiment. We had at length a prospect ofentering upon a regular campaign, and the hearts of all of us beat highat the chance of seeing active service against the enemy. 

To the Colonel commanding it was left to select the five companiescomposing a wing of the corps to march to Delhi. All, of course, wereeager to go, and we knew there would be heart-burnings and regretsamongst those left behind. 

The following companies were chosen out of the ten: Grenadiers, Nos. 2, 3, 7, and the Light Company. They were the strongest in point of numbersin the regiment, and with the fewest men in hospital, so that it couldnot be said that any favouritism in selection was shown by the Colonel. The wing numbered, all told, including officers and the band, 450 men--atimely reinforcement, which, together with the same number of HerMajesty's 8th Foot from Jullundur, would increase materially the armybefore Delhi. 

No time was lost in making preparations for the march. Our camp equipagewas ready at hand, a sufficient number of elephants, camels, and oxenwere easily procured from the commissariat authorities, and by eighto'clock that evening we were on our way. 

In those days a European regiment on the line of march in Indiapresented a striking scene. Each corps had its own quota ofcamp-followers, numbering in every instance more than the regimentitself, so that transport was required for fully 2, 000 souls, and oftenwhen moving along the road the baggage-train extended a mile in length. The camp, when pitched, covered a large area of ground. Everything wasregulated with the utmost order, and the positions of the motley groupwere defined to a nicety. 

We had been directed to take as small a kit as possible, each officerbeing limited to two camels to carry his tent and personal effects. Ournative servants accompanied us on the line of march, and I must heremention that during the long campaign on which we were about to enterthere was not one single instance of desertion among these faithful anddevoted followers. 

Everything being ready, we paraded a little before sunset on the eveningof June 13. The terrible heat which prevailed at this time of theyear prevented us from marching during the day-time. Moreover, it wasnecessary to preserve the health of the soldiers at this criticalperiod, when every European in India was required to make head againstthe rebels. So on every occasion when practicable the English regimentsmoving over the country marched at night, resting under cover of theirtents during the day. [1]

Shortly after sunset, we bade adieu (an eternal one, alas! for many ofthe gallant souls assembled) to the comrades we were leaving behind; theband struck up, and we set off in high spirits on our long and arduousmarch of more than 350 miles. 

The night, as usual, was close and sultry, with a slight hot windblowing; but the men stepped out briskly, the soldiers of the leadingcompany presently striking up a well-known song, the chorus of whichwas joined in by the men in the rear. We marched slowly, for it wasnecessary every now and then to halt so as to allow the long train ofbaggage to come up; and it was nearly sunrise before we reached thefirst halting-ground. The camp was pitched, and we remained under coverall day, starting, as before, soon after sunset. 

And thus passed the sixteen days which were occupied in reaching Delhi. Every precaution was taken to prevent surprise, as we were marching, to all intents and purposes, through an enemy's country, and expectedattacks on our baggage from straggling bodies of mutineers. 

_June 18_. --At Loodianah, five marches from Ferozepore, and which wereached on June 18, we were fortunate enough to find more comfortablequarters, the men moving into some of the buildings which had formerlybeen occupied by Her Majesty's 50th Regiment, the officers living in theKacherri. 

Here, behind tatties and under punkas, and with iced drinks, we wereable to keep pretty cool; but, sad to say, soon after our arrival in thestation that terrible scourge cholera broke out in our ranks, and ina few hours six men succumbed to this frightful malady. On everysucceeding day men were attacked and died, so that, unhappily, up toJuly 1 we lost in all thirty gallant fellows. 

This disease never left us during the entire campaign; upwards of 250soldiers of my regiment fell victims to the destroyer; nor were weentirely free from it till the end of the year. Many more were attacked, who recovered, but were debarred through excessive weakness from servingin the ranks, and were invalided home. 

_June 23_. --On reaching Umballah, we found the station all but deserted, nearly all the European troops having been sent on to join the Delhiforce. The church had been placed in a state of defence, all its wallsloopholed, and around it had been constructed a work consisting of awall and parapet, with towers of brickwork armed with field-pieces _enbarbette_ at the angles. 

In it were quartered some of the 1st Bengal Fusiliers, lately broughtdown from Dagshai. About ninety of these marched with us to Delhi. Herealso we were joined by four officers of the (late) 57th Native Infantry, who had received orders to join our wing, eventually to fill upvacancies in the native corps on reaching the scene of operations. Withthese we were in all twenty-four officers--rather a strong complementeven for a whole regiment. 

The concluding days of the march were trying in the extreme. Weary andfootsore, and often parched with thirst, we tramped along the hot anddusty roads, often for miles up to our ankles in deep sand. We were sotired and overcome with want of rest that many of us actually fell fastasleep along the road, and would be rudely awakened by falling againstothers who were in the same plight as ourselves. At midnight we rested, when coffee and refreshment were served out to the officers and men. Thehalt sounded every hour, and for five minutes we threw ourselves down onthe hard ground or on the hot sand and at once fell asleep, waking upsomewhat restored to continue our toilsome journey. 

From Jugraon onward we had rather long marches, and it was consideredadvisable to convey the men part of the way in hackeries; thearrangement being that they should march halfway, then halt for coffeeand refreshment, and afterwards ride the remainder of the distance. 

By this means they were kept fresh for the work before them, which, wehad every reason to believe, would be anything but light. At UmballahI took the opportunity of calling on my friend Mr. George Barnes, the Commissioner of the Cis-Sutlej States. He had shown me boundlesshospitality, and was like a father to me when I joined my regiment asa lad at Kussowlie. A man of great intellectual attainments and soundjudgment, he was an honour to the Bengal Civil Service. There was noofficer at that momentous period in whom Sir John Lawrence placedmore confidence. His familiarity with the native character, and thefriendship borne towards him by the Sikh chieftains, enabled himthroughout the Siege of Delhi to keep open communication with thePunjab, and supply the force with stores, provisions, and ammunition. He would, without doubt, have risen to the highest honours in hisprofession had he not been stricken with a fatal illness in 1859, whenholding the responsible post of Foreign Secretary to the Government ofIndia. 

A few marches from Delhi we passed over the historic field of Paniput, where three sanguinary battles had been fought in different ages, eachdeciding the fate of Hindostan for the time being. More than 100, 000men had been slain in these actions, and we felt we were marching overground the dust of which was thickly permeated with the ashes of humanbeings. 

Here first we heard the sound of distant cannonades, borne thus far toour ears by the stillness of the night--a sound which told us that ourcomrades before Delhi were still holding their position against theenemy. 

At length, on July 1, just as the sun was rising, we emerged from aforest of trees on to the plain over which the army under Sir HenryBarnard had moved on June 8 to attack the entrenchments of the mutineersat Badli-ki-Serai. 

_July_ 1. --Eagerly we cast our eyes over the ground to our front, andwith pride in our hearts thought of that gallant little force which hadadvanced across this plain on that eventful morn under a terrific firefrom the enemy's guns. 

Soon we reached the entrenchments which had been thrown up by the rebelsto bar the progress of our soldiers, and, lying in all directions, wesaw numerous skeletons of men and horses, the bones already bleached towhiteness from the effects of the burning sun. Dead bodies of camels andoxen were also strewn about, and the stench was sickening. We were nowabout four miles from Delhi, and were met by a squadron of the 6thCarabineers, sent to escort us into camp. They received us with a shoutof welcome, and, while we halted for a short time, inquiries were madeas to the incidents of the siege. 

We learnt that our small army, with the tenacity of a bulldog, washolding its own on the ridge overlooking the city, that sorties by therebels were of almost daily and nightly occurrence, and that the losseson our side were increasing. 

With the Carabineers in our front, the march was continued, the whitetents of the besieging force appearing in sight about eight o'clock. Then the band struck up "Cheer, boys, cheer!" and, crossing the canal bya bridge, we entered the camp. 

Crowds of soldiers, European as well as native, stalwart Sikhs andPunjabees, came down to welcome us on our arrival, the road on each sidebeing lined with swarthy, sun-burnt, and already war-worn men. Theycheered us to the echo, and in their joy rushed amongst our ranks, shaking hands with both officers and men. 

[Illustration: DELHI, FROM THE MOSQUE PICKET. ]

[Footnote 1: The heat even under such cover was intense, averaging 115°Fahr. ]

CHAPTER III

BEFORE DELHI

A situation had already been marked out for our encampment, and, directed by an officer, we passed through the main portion of ourlines, and halted at the bottom of the ridge on the extreme left of ourposition. Some time was occupied after the arrival of the baggage inpitching our camp; but when all was concluded, Vicars and I started onfoot to take our first view of the imperial city. 

We walked a short distance to the right, and along the foot of theridge, and then ascended, making our way to the celebrated FlagstaffTower. We mounted to the top: and shall I ever forget the sight whichmet our gaze?

About a mile to our front, and stretching to right and left as far asthe eye could reach, appeared the high walls and the bastions of Delhi. The intervening space below was covered with a thick forest of trees andgardens, forming a dense mass of verdure, in the midst of which, andpeeping out here and there in picturesque confusion, were the whitewalls and roofs of numerous buildings. Tall and graceful minarets, Hindoo temples and Mohammedan mosques, symmetrical in shape and gorgeousin colouring, appeared interspersed in endless numbers among thedensely-packed houses inside the city, their domes and spires shiningwith a brilliant radiance, clear-cut against the sky. Above all, in thefar distance towered the Jama Masjid, or Great Mosque, its three hugedomes of pure white marble, with two high minarets, dwarfing intoinsignificance the buildings by which it was surrounded--surely, thenoblest work of art ever built by man for the service of the Creator. 

To the left could be seen the lofty castellated walls of the Palace ofthe Emperors, the former seat of the Great Mogul--that palace inwhich at that moment the degenerate descendant of Timour, and lastrepresentative of his race, held his court, and in his pride of heartfondly hoped that British rule was at an end. 

Beyond rose the ancient fortress of Selimgarh, its walls, as well asthose of the palace on the north side, washed by the waters of theJumna. A long bridge of boats connected the fort with the opposite bankof the river, here many hundred yards in width: and over this we couldsee, with the aid of glasses, bodies of armed men moving. 

It was by this bridge that most of the reinforcements and all thesupplies for the mutineers crossed over to the city. On the very day ofour arrival the mutinous Bareilly Brigade of infantry and artillery, numbering over 3, 000 men, marched across this bridge. Our advancedpicket at the Metcalfe House stables, close to the Jumna, hearddistinctly their bands playing "Cheer, boys, cheer!" the very same tunewith which we had celebrated our entrance into camp that morning. 

Few cities in the world have passed through such vicissitudes as Delhi. Tradition says it was the capital of an empire ages before the greatMacedonian invaded India, and its origin is lost in the mists ofantiquity. Traces there were in every direction, amid the interminablecluster of ruins and mounds outside the present city, of cities stillmore vast, the builders and inhabitants of which lived before the dawnof history. 

Delhi had been taken and sacked times out of number. Its riches werebeyond compare; and for hundreds of years it had been the prey, not onlyof every conqueror who invaded India from the north-west, but also ofevery race which, during the perpetual wars in Hindostan, happened forthe time to be predominant. Tartars, Turks, Afghans, Persians, Mahrattasand Rajpoots, each in turn in succeeding ages had been masters of thecity. There had been indiscriminate massacres of the populace, the lastby Nadir Shah, the King of Persia in 1747, when 100, 000 souls were putto death by his order, and booty to a fabulous amount was carried away. Still, notwithstanding the vicissitudes of fortune through which it hadpassed, Delhi was, in 1857, one of the largest, most beautiful, andcertainly the richest city in Hindostan. We knew well that there waswealth untold within the walls, and our hearts were cheered even at thistime when we thought of the prize-money which would fall to our share atthe capture of the rebellious city. 

The walls surrounding Delhi were seven miles in circumference, flankedat intervals by strong bastions, on which the enemy had mounted thelargest guns and mortars, procured from the arsenal. Munitions of warthey had in abundance--enough to last them, at the present rate offiring, for nearly three years. Long we gazed, fascinated at the scenebefore us. A dead silence had reigned for some time, when we wereawakened from our dreams by the whiz and hissing of a shell fired by theenemy. It fell close below the tower and burst without doing any harm;but some jets of smoke appeared on the bastions of the city, and shellsand round-shot fired at the ridge along the crest of which a small bodyof our men was moving. The cannonade lasted for some time, our own gunsreplying at intervals. We could plainly see the dark forms of the rebelartillerymen, stripped to the waist, sponging and firing with greatrapidity, their shot being chiefly directed at the three otherbuildings on the ridge--namely, the Observatory--the Mosque, as it wascalled--and, on the extreme right, Hindoo Rao's house. 

From the Flagstaff Tower the ridge trended in a southerly directiontowards those buildings, approaching gradually nearer and nearer to thecity, till at Hindoo Rao's house it was distant about 1, 200 yards fromthe walls. 

To the rear of this ridge, and some distance below, so that all view ofDelhi was quite shut out from it, was the camp of the besieging army, numbering at this period about 6, 000 men. The tents were pitched atregular intervals behind the ruined houses of the old cantonment, which, at the outbreak on May 11, had been burnt and destroyed by the sepoys. A canal which supplied us with water from the Jumna ran round the ridgepast the suburb of Kishenganj into the city, and was crossed by twobridges, over which communication with the country to the north-west, and leading to the Punjab, was kept open by the loyal Sikh chieftainsand their retainers. 

Our position on the ridge extended about a mile and a half, the rightand left front flanks defended by outlying advanced pickets, which Ishall hereafter describe. 

The city walls, as before recorded, were seven miles in circumference, so that at this time, and, in fact, almost to the end of the siege, we, with our small force, in a manner only commanded a small part of thecity. The bridge of boats remained to the last in the possession of theenemy, and was quite out of range even from our advanced approaches, while to the right and rear of the city the gates gave full ingress toreinforcing bodies of insurgents from the south, whose entrance we wereunable to prevent. 

Our investment, if such it could be called, was therefore only partial, being confined to that portion of the city extending from the waterbattery near Selimgarh Fort to the Ajmir Gate, which was just visiblefrom the extreme right of the ridge. This part was defended by, I think, four bastions, named, respectively, the Water, Kashmir, Mori, and Burn. Three gates besides the Lahore gave egress to the mutineers when makingsorties, the afterwards celebrated Kashmir Gate, the Kabul and the AjmirGates. 

The Hindoo Rao's house, on the right of the ridge where it sloped downinto the plain, was the key of our position, and was defended with greatbravery and unflinching tenacity throughout the whole siege by theSirmoor battalion of Goorkhas, and portions of the 60th Royal Rifles andthe Guide Corps. Incessant day and night attacks were here made by theenemy, who knew that, were that position turned, our camp--in fact, ourvery existence as a besieging force--would be imperilled. 

But no assault, however strong and determined, made any impression onthe men of these gallant regiments, led by Major Reid, the officercommanding the Sirmoor battalion. They lost in killed and wounded anumber far out of all proportion to that of any other corps beforeDelhi, and must in truth be reckoned the heroes of the siege. 

The Goorkhas are recruited in the mountain districts of the Himalayas, in the kingdom of Nepal. They are short and squat in figure, never morethan five feet three inches in height, of dark complexion, with deep-seteyes and high cheek-bones denoting their affinity to the Turanian race. Good-humoured and of a cheerful disposition, they have always been greatfavourites with the European soldiers, whose ways and peculiarities theyendeavour to imitate to a ludicrous extent. In battle, as I have oftenseen them, they seem in their proper element, fierce and courageous, shrinking from no danger. They carried, besides the musket, a short, heavy, curved knife called a _kukri_, a formidable weapon of which thesepoys were in deadly terror. As soldiers they are second to none, amenable to discipline and docile, but very tigers when roused; theyfought with unflinching spirit during the Mutiny, freely giving up theirlives in the service of their European masters. 

And now that I have endeavoured, for the purposes of this narrative, toexplain our position and that of the enemy, I shall proceed to recount, as far as my recollection serves, the main incidents of the siege, andmore particularly those in which I personally took part. 

The camp of my regiment was pitched, as I have said, on the extremeleft of the besieging force, on the rear slope of the ridge. We werecompletely hidden from any view of the city, and but for the soundof the firing close by, which seldom ceased day or night, might havefancied ourselves far away from Delhi. 

Cholera still carried off its victims from our midst, and the very nightof our arrival I performed the melancholy duty of reading the BurialService over five gallant fellows of the Grenadier Company who had diedthat day from the fell disease. 

The heat was insupportable, the thermometer under the shade of my tentmarking 112°F. ; and to add to our misery there came upon us a plagueof flies, the like of which I verily believe had not been on theearth since Moses in that manner brought down the wrath of God on theEgyptians. They literally darkened the air, descending in myriads andcovering everything in our midst. Foul and loathsome they were, and weknew that they owed their existence to, and fattened on, the putridcorpses of dead men and animals which lay rotting and unburied inevery direction. The air was tainted with corruption, and the heat wasintense. Can it, then, be wondered that pestilence increased daily inthe camp, claiming its victims from every regiment, native as well asEuropean?

About this time many spies were captured and executed; in fact, so manyprisoners were taken by the pickets that it was ordered that for thefuture, instead of being sent under escort to the camp for trial, theyshould be summarily dealt with by the officers commanding pickets. 

On the evening of July 2 I was sent, in command of fifty men, to relievethe picket at a place called the "Cow House"; this was an outshedbelonging to Sir Theophilus Metcalfe's mansion, burnt by the rebels onMay 11, and midway between that building and the stables, at each ofwhich were stationed 150 men. At the beginning of the siege our leftadvanced flank, on the side of the River Jumna, was exposed to constantattacks by the enemy, and the three pickets mentioned above had beensince that time stationed at those places. Each communicated with theother, the one to the right being on a mound near the ruins of thehouse, and some 1, 200 yards from the city, the cowshed situated midwaybetween this mound and the river, and, lastly, the stables close to thebanks, all partially hidden from view of the batteries on the walls bygardens and thick clusters of trees. 

I stationed my men at the sheds, and placed double rows of sentries tomy front along the edge of a deep _nallah_, or ravine. 

Soon after this that gallant officer, Lieutenant Hodson (on whose memorylately aspersions have been cast by an author who knows nothing of thesubject on which he has written), rode up to the picket and told me thata sortie in force was expected that night, and that I was to keep asharp lookout to prevent surprise. 

Hodson, besides commanding a regiment of native Sikh cavalry of his ownraising, was head of the Intelligence Department. He covered himselfwith glory during the siege, was untiring in his exertions and well-nighubiquitous, riding incessantly round the pickets at night, and beingpresent at most of the engagements. He was a perfect Hindustani scholar, and it was reported in camp, though with what truth I cannot say, thathe on several occasions entered Delhi in disguise during the siegeto gain information of the enemy's intentions. This may have beenexaggeration, but it is nevertheless certain that, through some sourceor other, he made himself well acquainted with the doings and movementsof the mutineers. 

Shortly after he left, the field-officer on duty appeared, who orderedme, in case I should be attacked, to defend my post to the lastextremity, and in no case to fall back, adding that to my picket, and tothose on my right and left, the safety of the camp during the expectedsortie, together with the security of our left flank, was entrusted. 

After darkness set in the enemy commenced a furious cannonade in thedirection of the three pickets, round shot whistling through the treesand shells bursting around us. The din and roar were deafening, butfiring, as they did, at random, little damage was done. Nothing can begrander than the sight of live shells cleaving the air on a dark night. They seemed like so many brilliant meteors rushing through the heavens, or like lightning-flashes during a storm, and this being my firstexperience of the sort, no words can paint my awe and admiration. 

We naturally expected an attack in force from the insurgents under coverof the cannonade; but hours passed by in suspense and anxiety, andnone was attempted. The firing was continued all night--sleep beingimpossible--and ceased only at daybreak, when the relief arrived, and Imarched the picket back to our camp. 

_July 3_. --That day the monsoon--the Indian wet season--set in, and raindescended in sheets of water for many hours. 

In the afternoon it was reported that a large force of mutineers wasmoving out of the city by the Kabul and Ajmir Gates into the suburbsto the right front of our position, and the alarm sounded, most of thetroops in camp turning out and assembling on the road to the rear ofthe canal. Here we were halted for some time, it being uncertain whatdirection had been taken by the enemy. 

At sunset two doolies, escorted by men of the 5th Punjab Cavalry, wereseen on the road coming towards us. They contained the bodies of aEuropean sergeant and a man of the Road Department, who had beensurprised and cut to pieces by some of the rebel cavalry. The escortalso reported that a body of insurgents numbering many thousand men hadbeen seen moving towards Alipore, one march in our rear, their object, it was supposed, being to cut off supplies and intercept treasure. 

It being too late to start in pursuit of the enemy, we were dismissed toour quarters, being warned to hold ourselves in readiness to turn out ata moment's notice. 

_July 4_. --That night the sound of the enemy's guns to our rear washeard in the camp, and soon after 2 a. M. We paraded, and joined a forcedestined to overtake or cut off the mutineers on their return to Delhi. The little army, consisting of 1, 500 men, cavalry, artillery, andinfantry, marched at once towards Alipore. After we had proceeded threemiles, and just at daybreak, news was brought that the enemy, afterplundering the town, were retreating to the city laden with booty. 

Major Coke, who was in command, then changed our direction to the left, and we advanced for about two miles over swampy ground to a canal, the cavalry being in front, then the infantry, the battery of HorseArtillery bringing up the rear. 

When near the canal, which was shaded on each side by trees, the Majoradvanced to reconnoitre, and on his return, the order was given, "Gunsto the front!" The Horse Artillery galloped past us, and we then heardthat the enemy were in sight on the other side of the canal. 

Crossing a bridge, and passing through trees and jungle, the whole forcedebouched on an open plain, and formed in order of battle. The firstline consisted of the artillery, in the centre, flanked on each side bythe cavalry--cavalry--portions of the 9th Lancers, the Carabineers, andthat fine regiment, the Guide Corps. Coke's Corps of Punjabees and myregiment formed the second line. 

It was a pretty sight to see this miniature army advancing in perfectorder towards the enemy. The plain extended for a mile quite open andwithout trees, bounded at that distance by a village, in which theinsurgent guns were posted. Clouds of horsemen, apparently without anyformation, hovered on each side of the village, and a large force ofinfantry was standing in line somewhat in advance. 

Our guns came into action at a distance of about 1, 000 yards from thevillage, and were soon answered by those of the enemy, their shotstriking unpleasantly close to our line, and ricochetting over ourheads. Still we advanced, hoping that the rebels would stand till wecame to close quarters. At 500 yards the fire from our artillery seemedto prove too hot for them; and presently, to our infinite disgust, wesaw their infantry moving off to the left, followed shortly after by thecavalry. Then their guns ceased firing, and were also quickly withdrawn. 

The Carabineers and Guides were sent in pursuit, and cut up somestragglers; but the insurgents stampeded at a great pace, and succeededin carrying off all their guns. 

A few sepoys were found hiding in the village huts, and were killed byour men, the Alipore plunder was recovered, besides some ammunition andcamp equipment, and, rather dissatisfied with the result of the action, we moved slowly back across the plain. 

The regiment was commanded on this occasion by our senior Captain, anofficer of some thirty-five years' service. He was, without exception, the greatest oddity for a soldier that our army has ever seen. Five feettwo inches in height, with an enormous head, short, hunchback body, longarms, and thin, shrivelled legs, his whole appearance reminded oneof Dickens' celebrated character Quilp, in the "Old Curiosity Shop. "Entering the service in the "good" old times, when there was noexamination by a medical man, he had, through some back-door influence, obtained a commission in the army. All his service had been passedabroad, exchanging from one regiment to another, for it would have beenutterly impossible for him to have retained his commission in England. Marching, he was unable to keep step with the men, and on horseback hepresented the most ludicrous appearance, being quite unable to ride, and looking more like a monkey than a human being. On our first advanceacross the plain the little Captain was riding in our front, vainlyendeavouring to make his horse move faster, and striking him every nowand then on the flanks with his sword. I was on the right of the line, and, together with the men, could not keep from laughing, when a friendof mine--a tall officer of one of the native infantry regiments--rode tomy side and asked me who that was leading the regiment. I answered, "Heis our commanding officer. "

The sun shone with intense heat on our march back across the plain, andthe European soldiers began to feel its effects, many being struck downwith apoplexy. About midday the infantry halted at the canal, the gunsand most of the cavalry returning to camp, as it was supposed therewould be no more work for them to do. We lay down in the welcome shadeof the trees on the bank, enjoying our breakfast, which had been broughtto us by our native servants, and, in company with an officer of the 9thLancers, I was discussing a bottle of ale, the sweetest draught I thinkI have ever tasted. The arms were piled in our front, and at intervalswe watched, as they crossed the canal, a troop of elephants which hadbeen sent out to bring the sick and wounded into camp. 

All at once, from our left front, and without any warning, shots camewhistling through the trees and jungle, and some men lying on the groundwere hit. The regiment at once fell in and changed front to the left, moving in the direction from which the shots were coming. 

Frightened at the sound of the firing, the elephants were seized with apanic and made off across the canal. Trumpeting, with their trunks highabove their heads, they floundered through the water to the oppositeside, their drivers vainly attempting to stop their flight. We saw themdisappearing through the trees, and learnt afterwards that they neverstopped till close to their own quarters at the camp. 

Meanwhile the shots came thick and fast, and we advanced in line till wecame to a comparatively open space, and in sight of the enemy--a largebody of infantry outnumbering us by four to one. They were at no greatdistance from us, and a sharp musketry fire was kept up from both sides, causing heavy losses. 

Seeing that no object was to be gained with our small force byencountering one so vastly superior, Major Coke deemed it prudent toretire, and retreating firing, we crossed the bridge and lined the bankon each side. 

The enemy followed, their men forming opposite to us and keeping up asteady fire at a distance of from 100 to 150 yards. I was on the rightof the line with the Grenadiers, when, half an hour later, I wasdirected by the Adjutant to march my men to the left of the bridgeto reinforce the Light Company, who were being hard pressed by theinsurgents, some of whom were wading through the canal, with the evidentintention of turning our left flank. We crept along under the bank, andwere received with joy by our comrades, one of them, I well remember, welcoming us in most forcible language, and intimating that they wouldsoon have been sent to--if we had not come. 

The file-firing here was continuous, a perfect hail of bullets, and itwas dangerous to show one's head over the bank. Shouting and tauntingus, the rebels came up close to the opposite side, and were struck downin numbers by our men, who rested their muskets on the bank and tooksure aim. Still, the contest was most unequal; the enemy were wading inforce through the water on our left, and the day would have gone hardwith us from their overwhelming numerical superiority, when, just atthis critical moment, the galloping of horses and the noise of wheelswas heard in our rear. 

Six Horse Artillery guns, led by Major Tombs--one of the most gallantofficers in camp--came thundering along the road. They passed witha cheer, crossed the bridge at full speed, wheeled to their left, unlimbered as quick as lightning, and opened fire on the rebels. Takencompletely by surprise, these made no stand, and fled pell-mell towardsDelhi, leaving altogether 200 dead on the ground. 

It was now nearly five o'clock, and we were distant four miles fromcamp. Many of our men had died from apoplexy and sunstroke, their facesturning quite black in a few minutes--a horrible sight. These, with thekilled and the sick and wounded, were placed on the backs of a fresh lotof elephants, which had just arrived; and, scarcely able to drag one legafter the other, we turned our faces towards the camp, reaching our ownquarters soon after sunset. 

This was a terrible and trying day for all engaged, and more especiallyfor the European infantry. We had been under arms for seventeen hours, most of the time exposed to the pitiless rays of an Indian sun, underfire for a considerable period, and, with the exception of the slighthalt for breakfast, on our feet all the time. 

When nearing camp we were met by the General, Sir Henry Barnard, whoaddressed us with some kindly words, and little did we think thatthat was the last occasion we should see the gallant old soldier. Thefollowing morning he was attacked with cholera, and expired in theafternoon, deeply regretted by the whole army. 

No man could possibly have been placed in a more trying situation thanhe who had just given up his life in the service of his country. Calledon to command an army to which was entrusted the safety of Britishrule in India, the cares and anxiety of the task, together with hisunremitting attention to his duties and constant exposure to the sun, made him peculiarly susceptible to the disease from which he died. Hehad served with distinction in the Crimean campaign, and had only landedin India to take command of a division in the April of this year. 

_July 5_. --From July 5 to 8 nothing of note occurred. The enemy kept up, as usual, a constant fire upon the ridge and outlying pickets; but noattempt at a sortie was made. 

I visited the Flagstaff Tower each day when off duty, seemingly nevertired of gazing at the glorious panorama spread out before me, andwatching the batteries delivering their unceasing fire. 

With the exception of two 24-pound cannon taken from the enemy, forwhich we had no shot, the heaviest guns on the ridge were 18-poundersand a few small mortars. Having possession of the great arsenal, theinsurgents mounted on the bastions of Delhi 32-and 24-pounder guns and13-inch mortars, their trained artillerymen acquitting themselves rightvaliantly, and making excellent practice. They were almost to aman killed at their guns during the siege, and towards the end thedifference in firing was fully perceptible, when the infantry filledtheir places and worked the guns. 

Having no round-shot for the two 24-pounders, we were reduced to firingback on the city the shot of the same calibre hurled against us, anda reward of half a rupee per shot was paid by the commissariat to anycamp-follower bringing in the missiles. 

On one occasion I saw a party of native servants, carrying on theirheads cooked provisions for the men on picket, wend their way up theslope from the camp. Two round-shot fired by the enemy struck the topof the ridge and rolled down the declivity. Here was a prize worthcontending for, and the cooks, depositing the dishes on the ground, ranin all haste to seize the treasures. I watched the race with interest, and anticipated some fun, knowing that in their eagerness they wouldforget that the shots had not had time to cool. Two men in advance ofthe rest picked up the balls, and, uttering a cry, dropped them quickly, rubbing and blowing their hands. The remainder stood patiently waiting, and then, after a time, spent evidently in deliberation, two men placedthe shot on their heads, and all in a body moved off towards thecommissariat quarters to receive and divide the reward. 

_July 7_. --On the morning of July 7, I accompanied a detachment of 150men under command of a Captain to relieve the picket at the mound closeto the ruins of Sir Theophilus Metcalfe's house. This mansion, built bythe present baronet's father, was situated about 1, 200 yards from thewalls of the city, and surrounded by trees and gardens. At the outbreakof May 11, it had been plundered and burnt by the mutinous sepoys and_badmashes_, who also in like manner had destroyed every house belongingto the Europeans in the suburbs of Delhi and the adjoining cantonment. Of the murders that then took place I shall have something to sayhereafter, when writing the history of a young school-fellow whosesister was killed by the insurgents. 

From our position on picket we could see a short distance in front, theground having been partially cleared of trees and undergrowth. A chainof double sentries was posted, and the utmost vigilance observed. Wecould hear the batteries opening on the ridge, while occasionally, as ifto harass the picket, a 13-inch shell would burst either in our front orin our rear. The night passed quickly, and at daybreak, when visitingthe sentries, I heard distinctly the bugles of the rebels sounding thereveille, succeeded by other familiar calls. It seemed strange to hearour own bugle-calls sounded by men who were now our enemies; and notonly was this the case, but also the insurgents for some time wore thescarlet uniform of the British soldiers, and invariably to the end ofthe war gave the English words of command they had been taught in ourservice. 

We were relieved from picket on the morning of the 8th, and returned toour camp, remaining quiet during the day. Executions by hanging tookplace every day, but after the first horrible experience nothing wouldinduce me to be a spectator. The rain, which had begun on the 3rd, continued almost without intermission, our camp becoming a quagmire, andthe muggy, moist atmosphere increasing the ravages of cholera amongstour unfortunate soldiers. 

_July 9_. --At sunrise on the 9th, a terrific cannonade woke us out ofour sleep; but, the main camp being some distance from the right of theridge, we for a long time heard no tidings of what was going on. At 8 a. M. The bugles of the regiments on the right sounded the alarm, followedat once by the "assembly. "

Some 200 men of my regiment, all that remained off duty, paraded infront of the tents, and received orders to march to the centre rear ofthe camp, in rear of the quarters of the General in command. Here wewere joined by some companies of the 8th Regiment and a battalion ofSikhs, and, continuing our march, we halted near the tents of Tombs'battery of Horse Artillery. 

Lying around and even among the tent-ropes were dead bodies of theenemy's cavalry, and a little way beyond, close to the graveyard, some men of the 75th were firing into the branches of the trees whichsurrounded the enclosure. Every now and then the body of a rebel wouldfall on the ground at their feet, the soldiers laughing and chattingtogether, and making as much sport out of the novel business as thoughthey were shooting at birds in the branches of a tree. 

How the native cavalry came there was at first inexplicable to us; butwe were informed afterwards that a body of irregular horsemen, dressedin white, the same uniform as that worn by the 9th Irregulars on ourside, had, with the greatest daring, an hour before dashed across thecanal bridge and charged the picket of the Carabineers, making also forthe two guns of Tombs' battery. The former, mostly young soldiers, hadturned and fled, all save their officer and one sergeant, who noblystood their ground. Lieutenant Hills, who commanded the two guns onpicket, also alone charged the horsemen, cutting down one or two of thesowars. 

Meantime the guns were unlimbered, but before they had time to fire, theenemy were upon them. Hills was struck down badly wounded, and was onthe point of being despatched by a sowar, when Major Tombs, hearing thenoise, rushed out of his tent, and seeing the plight his subaltern wasin, fired his revolver at thirty yards and killed the sowar. 

The camp was now fairly alarmed; the guns of Olpherts' battery opened onthe enemy, and, some men of the 75th appearing on the scene, the rebelswere shot down in every direction, thirty-five being killed, and therest escaping by the bridge. A few climbed into the trees and were shotdown as I have said before. 

This attack by the enemy's cavalry was a fitting prelude to the eventsof the memorable sortie of that day. 

At early morn, under cover of an unceasing cannonade from the citybatteries on to the right of our position, the insurgents in great forceand of all arms streamed out from the gates, making in the directionof the suburb of Kishenganj, their evident intention being to turn ourright flank and make for our camp. 

Seeing that the enemy were increasing in numbers, and coming on withgreat determination, the alarm had sounded; and detachments from most ofthe regiments, with Horse Artillery and a few cavalry under the commandof Brigadier-General Chamberlain, marched towards the right rear of thecamp, taking the road to the suburb of Kishenganj. 

We crossed the canal at about 10 a. M. , and, moving in column for somelittle distance, came in sight of advanced bodies of the enemy, chieflyinfantry with cavalry and field artillery on each flank. We formed inline, sending out skirmishers, the guns opened fire--the country herebeing pretty open--and the action began. 

Soon we drove back the rebels, who continued retreating in excellentorder, turning at intervals and discharging their muskets, while everynow and then their guns were faced about and unlimbered, and round-shotand grape sent among our ranks. As we advanced, the vegetation becamethicker, and we were confronted at times by high hedges of prickly-pearand cactus, growing so close together that it was impossible to makeour way through. This occasioned several détours, the sepoys lining thehedges and firing at us through loopholes and openings, cursing the_gore log_[1] and daring us to come on. 

The rain, which had kept off during the morning, now descended in asteady downpour, soaking through our thin cotton clothing, and in a fewminutes drenching us to the skin. 

Passing the obstacles on each flank, the force again formed in as goodorder as the inequalities of the ground would permit, and continued itsadvance, all the time under a heavy fire of artillery and musketry. Wecaught glimpses of the enemy retreating towards the Kishenganj Serai, but the vegetation was so dense in the numerous gardens, and the view soobstructed by stone walls and ruined buildings, that it was with greatdifficulty that we made any progress, nor, having the advantage of somuch cover, did the enemy suffer much loss from our musketry fire. 

Many of our men fell at this period of the fight; despising the enemyand refusing to take cover, our soldiers would stand out exposed anddeliver their fire, offering a sure aim to the enemy's marksmen. Itwas a continual rush from one point to another, halting and firingat intervals, the rebels all the time slowly retreating. Our HorseArtillery at this juncture could only act on occasions, the ground beingso broken that the guns were often brought to a standstill. 

All this time the batteries on the ridge, which from their high positioncould see what was going on, sent shells and round-shot at everyopportunity over our heads, dispersing the mutineers when groupedtogether in any large number, and dealing death amongst them. 

We saw them lying in heaps of twenty and thirty as we advanced, and thefire was so hot and the practice so excellent that the enemy evacuatedthe gardens and fled towards the suburb of Kishenganj. 

Here the country was more open, so, re-forming our scattered line, with skirmishers in advance, we drove the rebels before us, the HorseArtillery playing on them in the open and bringing down scores. 

Crossing the canal (which here barred our progress) by a bridge, weentered into a wide lane to the left, the high bank of the canal beingon one side and the walls of a large caravanserai on the other. 

The insurgents were posted at the far end of the lane, where it openedout at the gate of the serai, and received us, as we advanced at thedouble, with a rattling fire of musketry. Some climbed to the top of thebank, while others fired down at us from the walls. It was a perfect_feu d'enfer_, and the loss on our side became so heavy that a temporarycheck was the result, and it was only with great trouble that the mencould be urged on. 

Seeing a disposition to waver, Colonel W. Jones, the Brigadier underChamberlain, with great bravery placed himself in front on foot, andcalled on the soldiers, now a confused mass of Sikhs, Goorkhas, andEuropeans, to charge and dislodge the enemy from the end of the lane. He was answered with a ringing cheer, the men broke into a run, and, without firing a shot, charged the sepoys, who waited till we werewithin fifty yards, and then, as usual, turned and fled. 

Some entered the caravanserai by the large gate, which they attemptedto shut; but we were too quick for them, and following close on theirheels, a hard fight began in the enclosure. 

Others of the enemy ran onwards in the direction of the city, chased byportions of our force, who pursued them a long distance, and after adesperate resistance killed many who in their flight had taken refuge inthe serais and buildings. 

The party I was with in the great caravanserai ranged the place likedemons, the English soldiers putting to death every sepoy they couldfind. Their aspect was certainly inhuman--eyes flashing with passion andrevenge, faces wet and blackened from powder through biting cartridges;it would have been useless to attempt to check them in their work ofslaughter. 

Twenty or more of the insurgents, flying for life from their pitilessfoe, made for a small building standing in the centre of the serai. Theywere followed by our men, who entered after them at the door. The househad four windows, one on each side, about three feet from the ground, and I ran to one and looked in. 

The wretched fugitives had thrown down their arms and, crouching on thefloor with their backs to the wall, begged with out-stretched hands formercy, calling out in their language, "_Dohai! dohai!_" words Iwell knew the meaning of, and which I had often heard under similarcircumstances. I knew, however, that no quarter would be given, and in ashort time every rebel lay in the agonies of death. 

Most of the force, as I have related, had continued chasing the enemy, so that for some time we were alone and few in number in the serai. It was nearly five o'clock, and we thought that, as far as we wereconcerned, the action was over. 

It was not so, however. Shouts and yells were heard outside, and, running to see, we found a fresh force of the mutineers assembledoutside the gates. There was nothing for it but to make a rush and fightour way through; so with fixed bayonets we charged through them, meetingsoon afterwards the remainder of the force on its way back. Joining withthese, we drove the enemy again before us till we came within 700 yardsof the city walls, there losing sight of our foes. Their guns firedinto us, but the insurgent infantry seemed now to have had sufficientfighting for one day, and not one man was to be seen. 

Our work was accomplished, and the order was given to retire. Slowly wewended our way back to camp, arriving there about sunset, having beencontinuously under fire for nearly seven hours. 

The losses on this day exceeded that of any since the siege began. Outof our small force engaged, 221 men were killed and wounded. It wascomputed that of the enemy more than 500 were killed, and probably twicethat number wounded, the dead bodies lying thick together at everystage of our advance, but the wounded men in almost every instance werecarried off by their comrades. 

The camp of our regiment on the extreme left of the line having become amere swamp and mud hole from the long-continued rain, and also being attoo great a distance from the main body of the army, we were directed tochange to a position close to the banks of the canal, near the General'sheadquarters, and on the left of the 8th Regiment. The move was made, Ithink, on July 11; and here we remained till the end of the siege. 

At about this period, too, I was most agreeably surprised by a visitfrom an old school-fellow named C---- d. He had entered the BengalCivil Service a few years before, and, at the breaking out of thedisturbances, was Assistant Collector at Goorgaon, seventeen miles fromDelhi. On the death of their mother in Ireland, an only sister, ayoung girl of eighteen years of age, came out to India to take up herresidence with him. C---- d escorted his sister to Delhi on May 10, shehaving received an invitation to stay with the chaplain and his wife, who had quarters in the Palace. He returned to Goorgaon, little thinkinghe would never see her again. 

The next morning, on the arrival of the insurgent cavalry from Meerut, and the subsequent mutiny of the native infantry regiments and artilleryin the cantonments, the massacre of the Europeans in Delhi began. 

I forbear entering into all the details of this dreadful butchery;suffice it to say that the chaplain, Mr. Jennings, his wife, MissC---- d, and nearly all the white people, both in the Palace and thecity, were murdered. The editor of the _Delhi Gazette_ and his familywere tortured to death by having their throats cut with pieces of brokenbottles, but there were conflicting accounts as to how the Jenningsesand Miss C---- d met their end. From what I gathered after the siege fromsome Delhi natives, it was reported that the ladies were stripped nakedat the Palace, tied in that condition to the wheels of gun-carriages, dragged up the "Chandni Chauk, " or silver street of Delhi, and there, inthe presence of the King's sons, cut to pieces. 

It was not till the following evening, May 12, that C---- d heard of theMutiny, and, fearing death from the populace of Goorgaon, who had alsorisen in revolt, he disguised himself as best he could and rode off intothe country. After enduring great privations, and the danger of beingtaken by predatory bands, he at last reached Meerut, and thenceaccompanied the force to Delhi. 

From what he hinted, I feel sure he had it on his mind that his sister, before being murdered, was outraged by the rebels. However this may be, my old school-fellow had become a changed being. All his passions werearoused to their fullest extent, and he thought of nothing but revenge. Armed with sword, revolver, and rifle, he had been present at almostevery engagement with the mutineers since leaving Meerut. He was knownto most of the regiments in camp, and would attach himself to one orthe other on the occasion of a fight, dealing death with his rifleand giving no quarter. Caring nothing for his own life, so long as hesucceeded in glutting his vengeance on the murderers of his sister, heexposed himself most recklessly throughout the siege, and never receiveda wound. 

On the day of the final assault I met him in one of the streets after wehad gained entrance into the city. He shook my hands, saying that he hadput to death all he had come across, not excepting women and children, and from his excited manner and the appearance of his dress--which wascovered with blood-stains--I quite believe he told me the truth. Onewould imagine he must have tired of slaughter during those six days'fighting in the city, but it was not so. I dined with him at the Palacethe night Delhi was taken, when he told me he intended accompanyinga small force the next morning to attack a village close by. All myremonstrances at this were of no avail; he vowed to me he would neverstay his hand while he had an opportunity of wreaking his vengeance. Poor fellow! that was his last fight; advancing in front of thesoldiers, he met his death from a bullet in the heart when assaultingthe village. 

There were other officers of the army in camp who had lost wives andrelations at Delhi and Meerut, and who behaved in the same manner asC---- d. One in particular, whose wife I had known well, was an object ofpity to the whole camp. She was the first woman who was murdered duringthe outrage at Meerut, and her death took place under circumstances ofsuch shocking barbarity that they cannot be recorded in these pages. 

Truly these were fearful times, when Christian men and gallant soldiers, maddened by the foul murder of those nearest and dearest to them, steeled their hearts to pity and swore vengeance against the murderers. And much the same feelings, though not to such an extent, pervaded thebreasts of all who were engaged in the suppression of the Mutiny. Everysoldier fighting in our ranks knew that a day of reckoning would comefor the atrocities which had been committed, and with unrelenting spiritdedicated himself to the accomplishment of that purpose. Moreover, itwas on our part a fight for existence, a war of extermination, in whichno prisoners were taken and no mercy shown--in short, one of the mostcruel and vindictive wars that the world has seen. 

From July 10 to 14 there was comparative quiet in the camp; thecannonade continued on each side, but no sorties were made by the enemy. 

_July 12_. --On the morning of the 12th I was detailed for picket duty atthe Sabzi Mandi Gardens, to the right front of Hindoo Rao's house, thepicket consisting of 100 men under the command of a Captain. Sincethe opening of the siege this had been the scene of many sanguinaryencounters with the enemy, who put forth all their strength inendeavours to drive in the picket, and so turn our right flank at HindooRao's house. 

The view at first was almost completely closed in; but by the end ofJuly the unremitting labours of the Engineers had cleared away thetrees, walls, and buildings in front of the picket for some distance, and the earth-works connecting it with the ridge at Hindoo Rao's housewere also completed. 

I can remember no event of interest as occurring on July 12. Few shotswere fired at us, and on being relieved the next morning we returned tocamp, wondering at the unusual inactivity of the enemy. 

_July 14_. --They were, however, only preparing for another sortie on agrand scale, and on the morning of the 14th the bugles again sounded the"alarm" and the "assembly. " The insurgents poured out of the Kabul andLahore Gates in great numbers, making, as usual, for the Sabzi MandiGardens and the right of the ridge. They kept up a constant fire ofmusketry and field-artillery; and though our batteries swept theirmasses with shell and round-shot, they still continued the attack, pressing close to the pickets and Hindoo Rao's house. 

[Illustration: THE SMALL PICKET, SABZI MANDI, FROM THE SOUTH-EAST. ]

Shortly after midday a column of some 1, 500 men was assembled todislodge and drive them back to the city. We took the road as on the9th, and soon became engaged with the enemy in the Sabzi Mandi Gardens. The struggle was long and fierce, a perpetual interchange of musketryand artillery, our losses, especially in officers, being very severe. The city batteries also sent grape and canister amongst us from theirlarge guns and howitzers, inflicting mortal wounds, even at the greatdistance of 1, 100 yards. 

When driving the rebels before us past the suburb of Kishenganj, Lieutenant Gabbett and I, in the confusion of the rush, became separatedfrom the few men of our regiment who were engaged on that day, and foundourselves--we being the only officers present--with about fifty soldiersof different corps. For more than half an hour we were completelyisolated from the main body, and were occupied in several little fightson our own account. Advancing, we scarcely knew where, and in ourexcitement fully engaged in chasing the foe, we all at once came mostunexpectedly on to a broad road, with open ground on each side. There, to our front, and scarcely 500 yards distant, we saw a gate withembattled towers, the high walls of the city, and a bastion. We weresoon descried by the enemy, who depressed their guns and fired at uswith grape, fortunately without hitting any of our party. We were in acomplete dilemma, under fire of the batteries, cut off from our force, and liable at any moment to be surrounded; so, deeming discretion thebetter part of valour, we turned about and ran with all speed to therear, coming upon a troop of Horse Artillery, which was halted amongstsome gardens. 

Soon the main body of our force returned from the pursuit of the rebels, whom they had driven to within 600 yards of the city wall; and joiningour own detachment, who had given us up as lost, we returned to campabout sundown. 

Again we had to lament the loss of many fine officers and soldiers. Nearly 200 men had been killed and wounded--a sad diminution of ourlittle army, which, had it long continued, would have entirely decimatedthe Delhi Field Force. The enemy, however, had suffered most severely, their loss amounting to quite 1, 000 men; and the next morning they wereseen for hours carting the dead bodies into the city. Unusual braverywas shown by the rebels on this day: they stood fairly in the open, andalso attacked the pickets with great pertinacity, assaulting one calledthe "Sammy House" for hours, and leaving eighty dead bodies in itsfront, all killed by the infantry of the Guides, who most gallantly heldthe picket against overwhelming numbers. 

Cholera all this time raged in the force, and carried off its victimsdaily, my own regiment and the 8th being the principal sufferers. It wasmelancholy to enter the hospital, to see the agony and hear the groansof the men, many of them with their dying breath lamenting the hard fatewhich had stretched them on a sick-bed and prevented them from doingtheir duty in the ranks against the enemy. Fever and ague, too, werevery prevalent, and hospital gangrene broke out, which attained suchvirulence that many wounded died from its effects; while of amputations, I believe not one recovered during the whole siege. 

We were also in the midst of the Indian monsoon, the most unhealthyseason of the year, when rain descended in torrents almost every day, ahot, muggy atmosphere increasing the sickness and adding to the eternalplague of flies, a plague the most nauseating it has ever been my lot toexperience. When off duty, it was the custom of some of the officersto pass the time fishing in the canal at our rear. Here, seated oncamp-stools brought out by our servants, we amused ourselves for hours, holding lotteries as to who would catch the first fish, the prize beinga bottle of beer. To see us on these occasions, full of merriment, onewould scarcely have realized the fact that the men employed in thispeaceful occupation were part of an army engaged in almost continualwarfare, and fighting for very existence. Laughter and jokes filledthe air, and chaff reigned supreme; while ever and anon we were rudelyrecalled to a sense of the dangers around us by the report of a shellbursting over the ridge, or the presence of an orderly, who summoned oneof the party to proceed on picket or on some perilous duty at the front. 

With regard to provisions, we were plentifully supplied with regularmeals, a sufficiency of good food and drinkables; our lot in thisrespect was far more enjoyable than that of the usual run ofcampaigners. A large flock of fat sheep accompanied us on the march downfrom Ferozepore; and I shall never forget the agony of mind of one ofour gourmands when one day it was reported that the sheep had all beencarried off by the enemy when grazing in the rear of the canal. I hadalso purchased 100 dozen of ale at Umballah for the use of the mess, andthis being noised abroad in the camp, we were visited by several thirstysouls from other regiments, who, less fortunate than ourselves, hadneglected furnishing themselves with this tempting beverage. It was apleasure to us to minister to their wants, though I need hardly say thatthe stock lasted but a short time, from the numerous calls made on it. 

_July 17_. --General Reed, who had taken command of the army on the deathof Sir Henry Barnard, resigned his position on July 17 in consequenceof sickness and the infirmities of old age. He was succeeded byGeneral Wilson, of the Artillery, an officer who had already greatlydistinguished himself, and under whom the siege was eventually broughtto a successful conclusion. 

_July 18_. --For three days after the last sortie the enemy weresingularly quiet, quarrelling amongst themselves, as it was reported, and disputing as to what portion of their army was to lead the nextsortie. However, on July 18, they again made another attempt upon theSabzi Mandi and the ridge at Hindoo Rao's. 

The force sent to dislodge them was under command of Colonel Jones, ofthe 60th Rifles, who made his arrangements with singular judgment andtact, and insisted on a regular formation being kept by the troops, instead of the desultory style of action in vogue during previoussorties. There was, however, some very hard fighting in the gardens andserais, where we were received by a storm of bullets; but the men beingpersuaded to keep well under cover, the losses were not very serious, the casualties amounting in all to about ninety officers and men. [2] Theenemy, as usual, suffered severely, more especially from the fire of ourfield-guns, which mowed them down when collected in groups of two andthree hundred together. 

[Illustration: FROM THE SMALL PICKET, SABZI MANDI, LOOKING TOWARDSKISHENGANJ. ]

I was amused on this day, as well as on previous sorties, by seeing theeagerness with which the soldiers, European, Sikh, and Goorkha, rifledthe bodies of the slain sepoys. These last had plundered the cityinhabitants of all they could find in money and jewels, and having noplace of safety (from the anarchy which prevailed in Delhi) in which todeposit their loot, they one and all invariably carried their treasureabout with them, concealed in the kammerbund folds of muslin or linenrolled round the waist. On the fall of a mutineer, a rush would be madeby the men to secure the coveted loot, a race taking place sometimesbetween a European and one of our native soldiers as to who shouldfirst reach the body. The kammerbund was quickly torn off and the moneysnatched up, a wrangle often ensuing among the men as to the division ofthe booty. In this manner many soldiers succeeded, to my knowledge, in securing large sums of money; one in particular, a Grenadier of myregiment, after killing a sepoy, rifled the body, and, returning ingreat glee to where I was standing, showed me twenty gold mohurs, worth £32 sterling. It was a most reprehensible practice, but almostimpossible entirely to prevent, for in the loose order of fightingwhich generally prevailed, the men did not break from their ranks toaccomplish their purpose, but often, in isolated groups of two andthree, were separated at times a short distance from the rest of thecombatants. 

The General, we heard, was loud in his praise of the manner in whichColonel Jones conducted the operations on this day; after the actionalso, he withdrew his men in perfect order, allowing no straggling--agreat contrast to our former usual style when returning to camp afterthe repulse of a sortie. 

This was the last action of any consequence fought in the open at theSabzi Mandi Gardens. The ground in front of the picket was soonafter cleared, and during future attacks our men remained behind thebreastworks and entrenchments which had been thrown up, and by a steadyfire soon drove back any rebels who were foolhardy enough to come withinrange. 

It speaks well for the prowess of the mutineers, and proves that we hadno contemptible foe to deal with, that so many sorties and attacks weremade by them during the siege. They amounted in all to thirty-six--allof these being regularly organized actions and assaults--besidesinnumerable others on isolated pickets and advanced posts. They seldomcame to close quarters with our men, and then only when surprised; butnothing could exceed their persistent courage in fighting almost everyday, and, though beaten on every occasion with frightful loss, returningover and over again to renew the combat. 

_July 19_. --The succeeding days from July 19 to 23 were days of quiet, with the exception of the usual artillery duel. We took our turn atpicket duty with the other regiments, one day at the Metcalfe house andstables, and on another at the Sabzi Mandi. 

_July 23_. --On the morning of the 23rd the insurgents, for the firsttime since the previous month, made a sortie on our left, emerging fromthe Kashmir Gate with infantry and field-guns. With the latter theyoccupied Ludlow Castle, a ruined house midway between the FlagstaffTower and the Kashmir Gate. Then they opened fire on the left of theridge, and moving about continually amongst the trees and buildings, were well sheltered from our batteries, which were unable to make goodpractice. The rebels also showed at the Metcalfe picket, attacking atthe same time with their infantry; and becoming emboldened by receivingno opposition from us, the greater part of their force advanced nearerand nearer to the ridge, till they were seen distinctly from the Mosquebattery. 

To punish their temerity, a force of all arms was sent out from campunder Brigadier Showers, with the intention of attacking their rightflank. We moved up a deep gorge, and coming on them by surprise, forcedthem to remove their guns, which quickly limbered up and made for thecity. There was a great deal of skirmishing in the gardens and ruinedhouses before the infantry followed the example of their comrades; butthe fight was not nearly so severe as during the sorties on the right, nor did the enemy suffer any very great loss. On our side, we had in allfifty officers and men killed and wounded. [3]

Again for some days the enemy made no movement, and the weather alsoholding up for a time, some sport was inaugurated in the camp. The menmight be seen amusing themselves at various games, while the officersactually got up an impromptu horse-race. 

This, however, was not to last long, and on July 31 we were again on thealert from the report that several thousands of rebels, with thirteenguns and mortars, were making for the open country to the right rear ofour camp. 

A force under Major Coke was sent out to watch their movements, and alsoto convoy a large store of treasure and ammunition coming down to usfrom the Punjab. The convoy arrived safe on the morning of August 1, andthe rain falling heavily on that day, making the ground impassable forguns, the insurgent force, which had moved to our rear, broke up theircamp and retired towards Delhi. 

The 1st of August was the anniversary of a great Mohammedan festivalcalled the "Bakra Id, " and for some time there had been rumours of agrand sortie in honour of the event. 

Morning and afternoon passed, and we began to think the enemy had givenup their purpose, when about sunset firing began at the right pickets. The mutineers returning from our rear had met an equal number, whichhad sallied from the city, at the suburb of Kishenganj, and the forces, joining together, moved forward and attacked the whole right of theridge and the pickets in that quarter. 

Loudly the bugles sounded the alarm all over the camp, and in a veryshort time every available man was mustered, and the troops were hurriedforward to reinforce the breastworks at Hindoo Rao's house and on eachside. 

There had been only one actual night-attack since the beginning of thesiege, and that took place to the rear; it therefore naturally occurredto the officers in command that this assault by the enemy with such vastnumbers would require all our efforts to prevent being turned, thusimperilling the safety of the camp. 

The action had commenced in earnest when we arrived on the ridge, andthe brave defenders of Hindoo Rao's house were holding their own againstenormous odds. Masses of infantry with field-guns swarmed in our front, yelling and shouting like demons while keeping up a steady fire. 

Darkness came on--a lovely night, calm and clear without a cloud in thesky. The batteries on both sides kept up a terrific cannonade; and ourmen, effectually concealed behind the earth-works, poured incessantvolleys of musketry into the enemy. The roar and din exceeded anything Ihad ever heard before, and formed one continuous roll, while all aroundthe air was illumined by a thousand bright flashes of fire, exposingto our view the movements of the rebels. They had also thrown upbreastworks at no great distance to our front, from behind which theysallied at intervals, returning, however, quickly under cover when ourfire became too hot for them. And in this manner, without a moment'sintermission, the combat continued all night long, with no advantage tothe assailants, and with few casualties on our side. [4]

_August 2_. --Morning broke without any cessation in the firing; and itwas not till ten o'clock that the rebels, seeing how futile were allefforts, began to retire. Some few still kept up the firing; but at2 p. M. All was quiet, and our sadly harassed soldiers were enabled toobtain some rest after seventeen hours' fighting. Nothing could havesurpassed the steadiness of the men and the cool manner in which theymet the attacks of the enemy, remaining well under cover, and onlyshowing themselves when the rebels came close up. Our casualties duringthose long hours only amounted to fifty killed and wounded, thus provingthe judgment of the General in ordering the men to remain behind theearthworks, and not to advance in pursuit unless absolutely necessary. Two hundred dead bodies were counted in front of the entrenchments, anddoubtless during the darkness many more were carried off by the enemy. 

After the severe lesson they had received the rebels remained inactivefor some days, very few shots even being fired from the walls. We learntthat the late grand attack had been made by the Neemuch and part of theGwalior and Kotah insurgents who had mutinied at those places not longbefore. This accounted for the stubbornness of the assault, it being thecustom, when reinforcements arrived, to send them out at once to trytheir mettle with the besiegers. 

The fruits of General Wilson's accession to the command of the army, and the stringent orders issued by him for the maintenance of order anddiscipline both in camp and on picket became more and more apparentevery day. All duties were now regulated and carried out with the utmostprecision; each regiment knew its allotted place in case of a sortie, and the officers on picket had to furnish reports during their term ofduty, thereby making them more attentive to the discipline and care oftheir men. In the matter of uniform, also, a great and desirable changewas made. Many corps had become quite regardless of appearance, entirelydiscarding all pretensions to uniformity, and adopting the mostnondescript dress. One in particular, a most gallant regiment ofEuropeans which had served almost from the beginning of the siege, was known by the sobriquet of the "Dirty Shirts, " from their habit offighting in their shirts with sleeves turned up, without jacket or coat, and their nether extremities clad in soiled blue dungaree trousers. 

The army in general wore a cotton dress, dyed with _khaki rang_, or dustcolour, which at a distance could with difficulty be seen, and was farpreferable to white or to the scarlet of the British uniform. The enemy, on the contrary, appeared entirely in white, having soon discarded thedress of their former masters; and it was a pretty sight to see themturning out of the gates on the occasion of a sortie, their armsglittering, pennons flying, and their whole appearance presenting a gaycontrast to the dull, dingy dress of their foes. 

_August 5_. --On August 5 an attempt was made by our Engineers to blow upthe bridge of boats across the Jumna, and some of us went to the top ofthe Flagstaff Tower to see the result. 

Two rafts filled with barrels of powder and with a slow match in eachwere sent down the river, starting from a point nearly a mile up thestream. We saw them descending, carried down slowly by the flood, oneblowing up half a mile from the bridge. The other continued its course, and was descried by some mutineers on the opposite bank, who sent offmen to the raft on _massaks_ (inflated sheep-skins). It was a perilousdeed for the men, but without any delay they made their way to the raft, put out the fuse, and towed the engine of destruction to shore. A mostignominious failure, and the attempt was never repeated, the bridgeremaining intact to the last. 

_August 6_. --At 7 a. M. On August 6 the alarm again sounded, and weremained accoutred in camp for some hours, but were not called to thefront on that day. A large party of the enemy's cavalry--more, it mustbe supposed, in a spirit of bravado than anything else--charged up theroad towards the Flagstaff Tower, waving their swords and shouting, "Din! din!" A battery was brought to bear on them, and this, with avolley or two of musketry, soon sent them to the right about, gallopingoff and disappearing amongst the trees, after leaving some dead on theground. 

The enemy's infantry also harassed the pickets on the right flank, causing some casualties, and their artillery fire was kept up all day, the guns in the new Kishenganj battery almost enfilading the right ofour position. No efforts on our part could silence the fire from thisplace, and it remained intact, a constant source of annoyance, to theend of the siege. 

The numerous cavalry of the enemy might have caused us a vast amountof trouble had they been properly led, or behaved even as well as theinfantry and artillery. But there seemed to be little dash or spiritamongst them, and though they made a brave show, emerging from the gatesin company with the rest of their forces, waving swords and brandishingspears, they took care to keep at a respectful distance from our fire, their only exploit, as far as I can remember, being that on July 9, when100 horsemen charged into the rear of our camp. 

From the 8th to the 11th there were constant attacks on all the pickets, and the artillery fire on both sides was almost unceasing. The enemybrought out some guns by the Kashmir Gate and shelled the Metcalfepickets, their skirmishers advancing close to our defences with shouts, and harassing the men day and night, though with small loss on our side. They also made the approach to the pickets for relief so perilous thatat early morn of the 12th a large force, under Brigadier Showers, wasdetailed to drive the rebels into the city. My regiment furnished twentymen, under an officer, [5] on this occasion. 

_August 12_. --We attacked them at dawn, taking them completely bysurprise, and capturing all their guns, four in number. The 1stFusiliers and Coke's Rifles behaved most gallantly, and bore thebrunt of the fight, losing half the number of those killed andwounded--namely, 110. The enemy's casualties amounted to upwards of 300, and they left many wounded on the ground, who were shot and bayonetedwithout mercy. This signal chastisement had the effect of cowing themfor a time, and the pickets on the left were unmolested for the future, save by occasional shots from the city batteries. 

_August 14_. --August 14 was quiet, the enemy giving us a respite andscarcely firing a gun, though they must have known of the welcomereinforcements we had received that morning. These consisted of nearly3, 000 men, of which number more than 1, 100 were Europeans. 

This force, under command of General Nicholson, comprised the 52ndRegiment, our left wing from Ferozepore, some Mooltani Horse, 1, 200Sikhs and Punjabees, and a battery of European artillery. Thereinforcements brought up the Delhi Field Force to more than 8, 000effectives, while of sick and wounded we had the frightful number ofnearly 2, 000 in camp, many more having been sent away to Umballah. 

But what added most to our strength was the presence amongst us of thehero John Nicholson, he who has been since designated as the "foremostman in India. " Young in years, he had already done good service in thePunjab wars, and was noted not only for his striking military talent, but also for the aptitude he displayed in bringing into subjection andruling with a firm hand the lawless tribes on our North-West Frontier. Many stories are told of his prowess and skill, and he ingratiatedhimself so strongly amongst a certain race that he received hisapotheosis at their hands, and years afterwards was, and perhaps to thisday is, worshipped by these rude mountaineers under the title of "NikulSeyn. " Spare in form, but of great stature, his whole appearance andmien stamped him as a "king of men. " Calm and self-confident, full ofresource and daring, no difficulties could daunt him; he was a bornsoldier, the idol of the men, the pride of the whole army. Hisindomitable spirit seemed at once to infuse fresh vigour into the force, and from the time of his arrival to the day of the assault Nicholson'sname was in everyone's mouth, and each soldier knew that vigorousmeasures would be taken to insure ultimate success. 

We were freed from attack for some days, and the only event ofimportance was a raid made by the enemy's horsemen in the direction ofRohtak. They were followed by that great irregular leader Hodson, whosucceeded, with small loss, in cutting up some thirty of their number, his own newly-raised regiment and the Guide Cavalry behaving admirably. 

_August 19_. --On August 19 a noteworthy incident occurred at the SabziMandi picket. A woman dressed in the native costume, and attended by anAfghan, walked up to the sentries at that post, and on approaching themen, threw herself on her knees, thanking God in English that she wasunder the protection of British soldiers. The honest fellows weregreatly taken aback, and wondered who this could be dressed in nativecostume, speaking to them in their own language. She was brought beforethe officer commanding the picket, when it transpired that she was aEurasian named Seeson, the wife of a European road sergeant. During theoutbreak on May 11 at Delhi her children had been slain before her eyesand she herself badly wounded, escaping, however, from the murderersin a most providential manner, and finding shelter in the house of afriendly native, who had succoured her ever since. By the aid of theAfghan, and disguised as an _ayah_, or nurse, she had passed throughthe gates of the city that morning, eventually finding her way to thepicket. We had one lady in camp, the wife of an officer of nativeinfantry, and to her kindly charge the poor creature was consigned, living to the end of the siege in Mrs. Tytler's tent, and being anobject of curiosity as well as of pity to the whole force. 

The enemy, lately, had caused great annoyance by firing at the ridge32-pound rockets, a large store of which they had found in the magazine, and as they were unused to discharging these dangerous missiles, therockets at first, by their rebound, inflicted more damage on the rebelsthan on us; but, gaining experience through long practice, they everyevening and during part of the night fired them at the ridge, one or twofalling right amongst the tents in camp. [6]

A battery also was erected about this time on the opposite bank of theJumna, at a distance of some 2, 000 yards from the Metcalfe pickets, andthis was served so well that not only were the outposts in considerabledanger from the fire, but the camp of one of our native regiments on theextreme left, and below the Flagstaff Tower, was shifted in consequenceof the enemy's shells falling in their midst. 

It will thus be seen that the rebels put forth their whole strength andused every means at their disposal to harass and annoy us. Like a swarmof hornets, they attacked us in every direction, first in one quarterand then in another; but no effort of theirs affected in the smallestdegree the bulldog grip of the British army on the rebellious city. Reports were rife that the King had sent to propose terms to theGeneral, and that the answer was a cannonade directed on the walls byall our batteries; also that their ammunition was falling short; butthese, with other silly rumours, were merely the gossip of the camp, andwere not credited by the bulk of the army. 

_August_ 24. --Again, a very large body of mutineers, numbering, it wassaid, 9, 000 men, with thirteen guns, left the city on August 24. Theywere seen from the ridge for hours trooping out of the Lahore and AjmirGates, and proceeding far to our right rear. Their intention, no doubt, was to cut off the large siege-train and munitions of war on their waydown to us from the arsenal at Ferozepore. 

_August_ 25. --A force was at once detailed, under command of the gallantNicholson, to intercept the enemy and, if possible, to bring them tobattle. Long before daylight on the morning of August 25 we paraded, cavalry, infantry, and three batteries of Horse Artillery, or eighteenguns, numbering in all nearly 2, 500 men. 

At six o'clock the march began, and leaving the Grand Trunk road a shortdistance from the rear of our camp, we made across country to a townnamed Nanglooi, distant six miles. The men were in high spiritsnotwithstanding the difficulties we had to encounter in traversing aroute wellnigh impassable from the recent rains, and ankle-deep in mud. Two broad swamps also had to be crossed, the soldiers wading waist-highin the water, and carrying their ammunition-pouches on their heads. Three hours and more were passed before we arrived at the village, andhere information reached the General that the enemy were posted twelvemiles distant, at a place named Najafgarh. 

The march was at once resumed, and, floundering in the mud, theartillery horses especially with great labour dragging the guns throughthe morass which extended nearly all the way, we arrived at about fouro'clock on the banks of a canal in full view of the enemy's position. 

This had been chosen with great judgment, and presented a formidableappearance, stretching about a mile and a half from the canal bridge onthe extreme right to a large serai on the left in the town of Najafgarh. Nine guns were posted between the bridge and the serai, with four morein the latter building, all protected by entrenchments with parapets andembrasures. 

The troops crossed the canal by a ford, and formed up in line of battleon the opposite side, facing the town of Najafgarh, and about 900 yardsfrom the serai, the infantry in two lines, ourselves and the 1st BengalFusiliers in front, with artillery and cavalry on each flank. 

When we were halted, Nicholson came to the front and, addressing theregiments of European infantry, spoke a few soul-stirring words, callingon us to reserve our fire till close to the enemy's batteries, and thento charge with fixed bayonets. He was answered with a cheer, and thelines advanced across the plain steady and unbroken, as though onparade. 

The enemy had opened fire, and were answered by our guns, the infantrymarching with sloped arms at the quick step till within 100 yards, whenwe delivered a volley. Then the war-cry of the British soldiers washeard, and the two regiments came to the charge, and ran at the doubletowards the serai. 

Lieutenant Gabbett of my regiment was the first man to reach theentrenchment, and, passing through an embrasure, received a bayonetthrust in the left breast, which stretched him on the ground. The menfollowed, clearing everything before them, capturing the four guns inthe serai, bayoneting the rebels and firing at those who had taken toflight at our approach. Then, changing front, the whole force sweptalong the entrenchment to the bridge, making a clean sweep of the enemy, who turned and fled, leaving the remaining nine guns in our hands. 

Our Horse Artillery, under Major Tombs--never better served than in thisaction--mowed down the fugitives in hundreds, and continued followingand firing on them till darkness set in. The cavalry also--a squadron ofthe gallant 9th Lancers, with the Guides and Punjabees--did their shareof work, while the European infantry were nobly supported by the corpsof Punjab Rifles, who cleared the town of the sepoys. 

The battle had lasted a very short time, and after dark we bivouacked onthe wet ground in the pouring rain, completely exhausted from our longmarch and subsequent fighting, and faint from want of food, none ofwhich passed our lips for more than sixteen hours. 

[Illustration: NOTE. --MAJOR RAINBY COMMANDED THE 61ST REGIMENT IN THISENGAGEMENT. ]

[From Lord Roberts' "Forty-one Years in India. " By kind permission. ]

Still, the day's work was not over. A village to the rear was found tobe occupied by the enemy, and the Punjab Rifles were ordered to takeit. They met with a most obstinate resistance, their young commander, Lumsden, being killed. The General then sent part of my regiment todislodge the rebels, but we met with only partial success, and had oneofficer, named Elkington, mortally wounded, the enemy evacuating theplace during the night. 

We passed the night of the 25th in the greatest discomfort. Hungry andwet through, we lay on the ground, snatching sleep at intervals. PoorGabbett died of internal haemorrhage soon after he received his wound, and his death deprived the regiment of one of its best and bravestofficers, and me of a true friend. He had shared my tent on the marchdown and during the whole campaign, a cheery, good-hearted fellow, andone who had earned the respect of officers and the love of his men. TheGeneral was particularly struck with his bravery, and with feeling heartwrote a letter to Gabbett's mother, saying he would have recommended herson for the Victoria Cross had he survived the action. 

Young Elkington also received his death-wound at the night-attack on thevillage. He was quite a stripling, being only eighteen years old, andhad joined the regiment but a few months before. His was one of thosestrange cases of a presentiment of death, many of which have been wellauthenticated in our army. On looking over his effects, it was foundthat he had written letters to his nearest relations on the night beforemarching to Najafgarh; and he had also carefully made up small parcelsof his valuables and trinkets, with directions on them to whom they wereto be delivered in case of his being killed next day. It was noticed, too, that he was unusually quiet and reserved, never speaking a wordto anyone on the march, though when the action began he behaved like agallant soldier, giving up his young life in the service of his country. 

_August_ 26. --On the morning of August 26 we marched back to camp, arriving there before sundown, and were played in by the bands of thetwo regiments, while many soldiers, native as well as European, linedthe road and gave us a hearty cheer. 

Our casualties at the action of Najafgarh amounted to twenty-fiveofficers and men killed and seventy wounded. The enemy left greatnumbers of dead in the entrenchments and on the plain, their loss beingcomputed at 500 killed and wounded; but this, I fancy, is much belowthe mark, for our artillery fire was very destructive, and the cavalrycommitted great havoc amongst the host of fugitives. The battle of the25th was the most brilliant and decisive since that of Badli-ki-Serai onJune 8. All the guns, thirteen in number, were captured, and the enemy'scamp, ammunition, stores, camels and bullocks were taken. Would thatwe had met the insurgents oftener in the open in this manner! But therascals were too wary, and had too great a dread of our troops to facethem in a pitched encounter. 

During the absence of Nicholson's small force the enemy had attacked allthe pickets, and kept up a heavy cannonade from the walls, causing us aloss of thirty-five men. It was their impression that the camp had beenleft almost bare and defenceless by the withdrawal of so large a force;but they were quickly undeceived, and were met at each point of assaultby a galling fire from our men. 

For many nights after August 26 our right pickets were constantlyharassed by the rebels, who also shelled Hindoo Rao's house from thecity and Kishenganj batteries. Our sappers, too, found it not onlydifficult, but dangerous, to work in the advanced trenches below theridge, being always met by a murderous musketry from the enemy'ssharpshooters, who fired down behind breastworks. It was resolved, therefore, on August 30, to drive them out from their cover, and ontwo or more occasions this was performed by the Goorkhas and the 60thRifles, who, as usual, fighting together and supporting each other, tookthe breastworks in gallant style. Our Engineers were then enabledto continue their operations in the trenches preparatory to makingapproaches towards the city walls, and constructing the batteries forthe siege-train, now daily expected. 

The Flagstaff Tower, as I have already mentioned in a former part of mynarrative, was the chief rendezvous of officers when not on duty. Aboutthis time I went to the top of the tower in company with one of myregiment, when an amusing incident occurred. 

We were watching the batteries playing on each side, when a tall Afghan, armed to the teeth, appeared at the top of the steps, and was about toset foot on the enclosed space under the flagstaff. A sentry was alwaysstationed there, and on this occasion it happened to be a sturdy littleGoorkha, one of the Kumaon battalion. On the approach of the Afghan heimmediately came to the charge, and warned him that none but Europeanofficers were allowed on the top of the tower. The Afghan laughed, and then, looking with contempt at the diminutive sentry, a dwarf incomparison with himself, he attempted to push aside the bayonet. Losingall patience, the Goorkha at this threw down his musket, and drawing his_kukri_, the favourite weapon of his race, he rushed at the Afghan withup-lifted blade. This was too much for our valiant hero, who quicklyturned tail, and disappeared down the circular staircase, the Goorkhafollowing him at a short distance. On his return he picked up themusket, and seeing us laughing, the frown on his face turned into themost ludicrous expression of good-humour I had ever seen, and he burstout into a fit of laughter which lasted some minutes. He told us that heand the other Goorkhas of his regiment thought nothing of the bravery ofthe Afghan soldiers, some 100 of whom were on our side at Delhi; and hespoke truly. 

These men, all cavalry, superbly mounted, dressed in chain armour, andcarrying arms of every description, had been sent down ostensibly as areinforcement to us by their Ameer, Dost Mohammed Khan of Kabul, butreally as spies to watch our movements, and report the state of affairsto their chief. They made a great display about the camp, but I neverheard of their meeting the enemy in action during their stay beforeDelhi. 

The last two days of August we had several men killed and wounded in theforce, and one of our officers, who shared my tent after poor Gabbett'sdeath, received a severe contusion from the bursting of a shell. 

Nearly three months had now elapsed since the Siege of Delhi began. Wewere, to all appearance, no nearer to the desired end, and had scarcelygained one foot of ground nearer to the walls of the city. Moreover, there was alarm in the Punjab owing to a reported disaffection among theSikh population, who, it is said, were beginning openly to assert thatthe British army was unable to take Delhi. To check this feeling, theChief Commissioner had urged General Wilson to lose no time in makingpreparations for the assault of the city; and thus our expectations beathigh at the near approach of the powerful siege-train on its way downfrom Ferozepore, though we knew there were still before us trials anddangers to which our former experiences would be as nothing. 

The weather had now somewhat cleared, but the heat was overpowering, averaging 98° in the shade of my tent every day. Cholera, too, raged asbefore, the principal sufferers being ourselves, and the 8th and 52ndRegiments. To cheer the soldiers, the bands played in camp of anevening, while some officers and men engaged in sport of various kinds;but the angel of Death was hovering over my poor regiment, and few ofus had the heart to join in pastime while our comrades lay stricken anddying of disease in hospital. 

_September 1_. --A portion of my corps was on duty at the Metcalfestable picket on September 1, when a lamentable loss was experienced, unparalleled in the annals of the siege. The enemy's battery across theriver had never ceased shelling these pickets, though up to this day ithad not caused much damage to the defenders. 

Shortly after sunrise the men were assembled outside, receiving theirgrog, which was served out to them every morning at an early hour. Some100 men and officers, beside Sikhs and native attendants, were groupedaround, when a loud hissing sound was heard, and a shrapnel shell, firedfrom the enemy's battery at the long range of 2, 000 yards, exploded afew feet in front. 

The bullets scattered around, and the scene which followed it is almostimpossible for me to depict. Many threw themselves flat on the ground, falling one on top of the other, while groans and cries were heard. Onesoldier fell mortally wounded by my side, and on looking around tocount up our losses, we found that two of my regiment had been killedoutright, besides six others severely wounded. Two Sikhs and a _bhisti_, or water-carrier, also met their death, and two doolie-bearers werewounded--thirteen men in all. 

One very stout old officer was in the act of having his morning bathwhen the shell exploded, the _bhisti_ standing at his side and pouringover him, when squatted on a tent-mallet, his _massuck_ of water. He rolled over and over on the ground, presenting such a ludicrousappearance in his wet, nude state, and covered with earth, that, notwithstanding the awful surroundings of the scene, I and others couldnot forbear laughing. The shot had been quite a chance one, but itproved how deadly was the effect of a shrapnel shell exploding, as thishad done, only a few feet in front of a large body of men. 

_September 2 and 3_. --The batteries continued exchanging shots duringSeptember 2 and 3, but there were no attacks of any consequence on thepickets, and we had on those days only three men wounded on the right ofour position. 

On the morning of the 4th the long-looked-for siege-train reached camp. It consisted of twenty-four heavy guns and mortars, and a plentifulsupply of ammunition and stores. Reinforcements also reached us, amounting to about 400 European infantry and the Belooch battalion, thelast a most savage-looking lot of men, who, however, did good service, and fought well. Besides these, a party of Sikh horsemen, in the serviceof the Rajah of Jhind--a noble-looking man, who, with his retainers, had kept open our communications with the Punjab during the wholesiege--joined the army, begging as a favour that they might join in thedangers of the coming assault on the city. 

_September 7_. --September 7 also saw the arrival of Wilde's regiment ofPunjabis, 700 strong, followed the same day by the Kashmir contingentof 2, 200 men and four guns, sent to our assistance by the ruler of thatcountry. 

I was sitting in my tent with the bandmaster of my regiment, a Germannamed Sauer, when we were saluted with the sound of distant music, themost discordant I have ever heard. The bandmaster jumped up from hisseat, exclaiming: "Mein Gott! vat is dat? No regiment in camp can playsuch vile music, " and closing his ears immediately, rushed out of thetent. 

The Kashmir troops were marching into camp, accompanied by GeneralWilson and his staff, who had gone out to meet them, their bands playingsome English air, drums beating, and colours flying. There was no faultto be found in the appearance of the soldiers, who were mostly Sikhs andhill men of good physique; but their ludicrous style of marching, thestrange outlandish uniform of the men, and the shrill discord of theirbands, created great amusement among the assembled Europeans, who hadnever seen such a travesty on soldiers before. They encamped on ourright flank; but were not employed on active service till the day ofassault, on September 14. 

On the arrival of the siege-train, no time was lost in making approachesand parallels, and erecting batteries for the bombardment of Delhi. Thetrench-work had already been begun, and what with covering and workingparties, both of European and native soldiers, and the usual picketduties, the greater part of the army was continually employed in thisarduous work every night and a portion of each day. Nothing couldsurpass the zeal and willing aptitude of the men, who labouredunceasingly digging trenches and filling sand-bags, all the time, andmore especially at night, exposed to a galling fire of musketry andshells. 

The Engineers, under their able leaders, were unremitting in theirduties; and the young officers of that corps covered themselves withglory both in these preliminary operations and at the actual assault. 

No. 1 Battery, to our right front, consisting of ten heavy guns andmortars, was traced, on the evening of September 7, about 700 yards fromthe Mori bastion. No. 2, to the left front, near Ludlow Castle, andonly 600 yards from the walls, was completed on the 10th, and containednineteen pieces of artillery. 

No. 4, for ten heavy mortars, and near No. 2, at the Koodsia Bagh, wascompleted in front of the Kashmir bastion also on that day. And, lastly, No. 3, on the extreme left, with six guns at the short distance of 180yards from the Water bastion, was unmasked behind the Custom-House, which was blown up after the completion of the battery. 

Thus, in four days and nights, after incredible exertions on the part ofthe working parties, forty-five heavy guns and mortars were in position, strongly entrenched, and ready to silence the fire from the enemy'sbastions and to make breaches in the walls for the assaulting columns. 

The rebels during all this time plied the covering and working partieswith shot and shell, bringing out field-guns, which enfiladed the LudlowCastle and Koodsia Bagh batteries, and keeping up a sharp musketry firefrom an advanced trench they had dug in front of the walls. At the twolatter places, where the men of my regiment were employed, the fire wasvery galling at times, the guns from the distant Selimgarh Fort, Water, and Kashmir bastions all concentrating their shots at those batterieswhilst in process of erection. 

The nights, fortunately, were clear, and we had plenty of light toassist us in our work; the men were cheerful and active, never restingfor a moment in their labours, and receiving in the Field Force ordersthe praise of the General in command. 

We wondered how it was that the enemy allowed us to occupy the advancedpositions at Ludlow Castle and the Koodsia Bagh without even so muchas a struggle; but it was accounted for by the supposition that theyimagined our attack would be made from the right of our position, whereall the great conflicts had taken place. There they were in strength, and it was our weakest point; whereas, on the side near the Jumna, wewere protected from being turned by having the river on our flank, better cover for operations, and, moreover, batteries to silence whichwere less powerful and more difficult of concentration than thosewhich faced us on our right from the city walls and from the suburb ofKishenganj. 

[Footnote 1: White people. ]

[Footnote 2: Lieutenant Pattoun was wounded in the ankle on thisoccasion, and a sergeant of the 61st was shot through the head. ]

[Footnote 3: Colonel Seton, 35th Native Infantry, was wounded in thestomach in this affair. ]

[Footnote 4: One man of the 61st Regiment was killed by a round-shot, which in its course also knocked over some sandbags which sentLieutenant Hutton flying about seven feet. ]

[Footnote 5: Lieutenant Yonge. ]

[Footnote 6: On August 7 they blew up one of their own powder factories, and with it a number of workmen. ]

CHAPTER IV

CAPTURE OF THE CITY

The actual Siege of Delhi may be said to have commenced on September 7, 1857. All reinforcements that could possibly arrive had reached us withthe siege-train, and the effective force now available for operationsbefore Delhi consisted of the following troops:

 European artillery 580 " cavalry 514 " infantry 2, 672 ----- 3, 766

 Native artillery 770 " cavalry 1, 313 " infantry 3, 417 Engineers, sappers, miners, etc. 722 ----- 6, 222 -----

 Grand total 9, 988

To the above must be added the Kashmir contingent of 2, 200 men, withfour guns, and the cavalry of the Jhind Rajah, perhaps 400 more, makingthe full amount of troops employed at the siege 12, 588. 

The seven regiments of European infantry were sadly reduced in numbers, being mere skeletons, the strongest mustering 409 effective rank andfile, and the weakest only 242. There were also nearly 3, 000 men inhospital, Europeans and natives. 

From the most reliable sources the enemy at this period numbered40, 000 men, all trained soldiers of the former regular army, besidesundisciplined armed hordes of fanatics and rabble of the city andsurrounding country--a formidable disproportion to our scanty force whenit is recollected that they were protected by strong fortificationsmounting upwards of fifty guns, with an unlimited supply of artilleryand munitions of war, and that with their vast numbers they had ampleopportunities of harassing our right flank and rear and cutting offcommunications up-country. 

Nevertheless, political considerations demanded that we should take theoffensive and deal such a blow as would convince the rebels, as wellas those whose loyalty was wavering, that the British arms wereirresistible. Moreover, there was no likelihood of our force beingincreased. So on September 7 General Wilson issued the following addressto his troops:

"The force assembled before Delhi has had much hardship to undergo sinceits arrival in this camp, all of which has been most cheerfully borne byofficers and men. The time is now drawing near when the Major-Generalcommanding the force trusts that its labours will be over, and it willbe rewarded by the capture of the city for all its past exertions, andfor a cheerful endurance of still greater fatigue and exposure. Thetroops will be required to aid and assist the Engineers in the erectionof the batteries and trenches, and in daily exposure to the sun, ascovering parties. 

"The artillery will have even harder work than they yet have had, and which they have so well and cheerfully performed hitherto: this, however, will be for a short period only, and when ordered to theassault, the Major-General feels assured British pluck and determinationwill carry everything before them, and that the bloodthirsty andmurderous mutineers against whom they are fighting will be drivenheadlong out of their stronghold, or be exterminated. But to enablethem to do this, he warns the troops of the absolute necessity of theirkeeping together, and not straggling from their columns. By this cansuccess only be secured. 

"Major-General Wilson need hardly remind the troops of the cruel murderscommitted on their officers and comrades, as well as their wives andchildren, to move them in the deadly struggle. No quarter should begiven to the mutineers; at the same time, for the sake of humanity andthe honour of the country they belong to, he calls upon them to spareall women and children that may come in their way. 

"It is so imperative, not only for their safety, but for the success ofthe assault, that men should not straggle from their column that theMajor-General feels it his duty to direct all commanding officers toimpress this strictly upon their men, and he is confident that afterthis warning the men's good sense and discipline will induce them toobey their officers and keep steady to their duty. It is to be explainedto every regiment that indiscriminate plunder will not be allowed; thatprize agents have been appointed, by whom all captured property willbe collected and sold, to be divided, according to the rules andregulations on this head, fairly among all men engaged; and that anyman found guilty of having concealed captured property will be made torestore it, and will forfeit all claims to the general prize; he willalso be likely to be made over to the Provost-Marshal to be summarilydealt with. 

"The Major-General calls upon the officers of the force to lend theirzealous and efficient co-operation in the erection of the works of thesiege now about to be commenced. He looks especially to the regimentalofficers of all grades to impress upon their men that to work in thetrenches during a siege is as necessary and honourable as to fight inthe ranks during a battle. 

"He will hold all officers responsible for their utmost being done tocarry out the directions of the Engineers, and he confidently truststhat all will exhibit a healthy and hearty spirit of emulation and zeal, from which he has no doubt that the happiest results will follow in thebrilliant termination of all their labours. "

_September 7_. --From the night of September 7 to the day of assaultall the artillerymen in the force, European as well as native, wereconstantly employed in the batteries and trenches. Day and nightofficers and men worked with unflagging energy in the advancedbatteries, with no relief and no cessation from their toil. Few innumber, worn out by the excessive fatigues of a three months' campaign, and enervated by continuous work in the deadliest season of the year, these gallant European artillerymen earned during those last days of thesiege, by their zeal and devotion, the heartfelt thanks of the wholearmy. The old Bengal Artillery have a splendid roll of services, extending for upwards of 100 years; still, in the annals of thatdistinguished regiment there is no brighter record than theirachievements before Delhi in 1857. The corps has been merged into theRoyal Artillery, but the ancient name still lives in the memory of thosewho were witnesses of their deeds, and their imperishable renown addsgreater lustre to the proud motto, _Ubique_, borne by the regiment towhich they are affiliated. 

Many officers and men of the cavalry and infantry volunteered forservice in the batteries when called on by the General. They acquittedthemselves well, were of great use to the gunners in lightening thearduous duties, and were complimented in orders for the valuable aidthey had afforded to their companions in arms. [1]

_September 11_. --The advanced batteries were all completed by theevening of September 11, when the actual bombardment of the city began. For three days and nights previous No. 1 Battery, on the extreme right, was severely pounded from the Mori bastion and Kishenganj, but when theguns got into full play the fire from the former grew gradually weakerand weaker, till it was completely overpowered. Nos. 2 and 4 Batteries, being nearer to the walls, suffered much from the enemy, and the losseswere very severe both among the artillery and the covering and workingbodies of infantry. 

_September 11_. --At length, on September 11, the whole of our batteriesopened fire simultaneously on the city bastions and walls. The Kashmirbastion was soon silenced, the ramparts and adjacent curtains knocked tofragments, and a large breach opened in the walls. On the extreme left, at the Custom-House, our battery, as before related, was only 180 yardsfrom the city, and the crushing fire from this, when in full play, smashed to pieces the Water bastion, overturned the guns, and made abreach in the curtain so wide and practicable that it could be ascendedwith ease. 

Fifty guns and mortars were now pouring shot and shell without amoment's interval on the doomed city. The din and roar were deafening;day and night salvos of artillery were heard, roll following roll inendless succession, and striking terror in the hearts of those who knewand felt that the day of retribution was at hand. 

Still, though their batteries on the bastions had been wellnighsilenced, the rebels stuck well to their field-guns in the open spacebefore the walls; they sent a storm of rockets from one of the martellotowers, and fired a stream of musketry from the ramparts and advancedtrenches. Kishenganj, too, made its voice heard, harassing our right andsweeping the Sabzi Mandi and Hindoo Rao's with its incessant fire. 

During the bombardment our casualties amounted to nearly 350 men, the enemy causing great loss at No. 2 Battery through the fire of a3-pounder served from a hole broken in the curtain-wall. This gun wasadmirably directed, and could not be silenced notwithstanding all ourefforts. One officer, looking over the parapet to see the effect of hisfire, was struck by a shot from the "hole in the wall, " his head beingtaken completely off, the mutilated trunk falling back amongst the menat the guns--a ghastly and terrible sight, which filled us who werepresent with horror. 

During the whole of the bombardment portions of my regiment were on dutyin the batteries and trenches, working at the repair of the parapets andembrasures occasionally damaged by the enemy's shot, and also takingtheir share of duty with the advanced and covering parties. These wereharassing and dangerous services, involving great vigilance. Wewere almost always under fire from the enemy; but with the utmostcheerfulness, and even, I may say, good-humour, the whole of theinfantry did all in their power to lighten the work of the overtaskedartillerymen: comrades we were, all striving for the accomplishment ofone purpose--that of bringing swift and sure destruction on the rebelswho had for so long a period successfully resisted our arms. So cool andcollected had the men become that even in the midst of fire from theadvanced trenches, and while keeping up on our side a brisk fusillade, the soldiers smoked their pipes, rude jokes were bandied from one to theother, and laughter was heard. 

When off duty I and others took our station for hours on the ridge, andsometimes on the top of the Flagstaff Tower. Thence with eager eyes wewatched the batteries cannonading the walls, and marked the effects ofthe round-shot on the ramparts and bastions. Few of the enemy could beseen; but every now and then some would show themselves, disappearingwhen a well-directed shot struck in too close proximity. Cavalryand infantry at times issued from the gates; but from their hurriedmovements it seemed evident that they were ill at ease, and after ashort time they returned into the city. 

At night the scene was, as may be supposed, grand in the extreme. Thespace below was lighted up by continuous flashes and bursts of flame, throwing a flood of light among the thick forest of trees and gardens, while shells would burst high over the city, illuminating the spires anddomes, and bringing into prominence every object around. There was notonly the roll of the heavy guns and mortars, but the sharp rattle ofmusketry, and the hiss of the huge rocket, as it cut through the airwith its brilliant light, sounded in our ears. 

_September 12_. --On the 12th the enemy made frequent sorties from theLahore and Ajmir Gates with bodies of cavalry and foot, while a party ofhorsemen crossed the canal, and made for the right rear of the camp. Thelatter were seen by the Guides and some Punjabi cavalry, who, led byProbyn and Watson, advanced to meet the enemy. There was a short butsharp encounter at close quarters, in which thirty rebels were killed, the remainder flying at full speed towards the city. The sorties fromthe gates turned out comparatively harmless, and seemed meant only asdemonstrations to draw out our troops from the cover of the advancedtrenches. Seeing that the attempt was futile, and resulted only in lossto themselves, the enemy retreated in confusion, their flight beingaccelerated by shell and round-shot from No. 1 Battery, and musketryfrom our outlying posts. 

A serious loss befell the army on this day in the death of CaptainRobert Fagan, of the Bengal Artillery. This officer, whose heroism madehis name conspicuous even among the many gallant spirits of the DelhiField Force, was killed in No. 3 Advanced Battery, a post he hadoccupied since September 8, and which was more than any other exposed tothe enemy's fire. He had served throughout the siege, and was beloved byhis men, winning the hearts of all, not only by his undaunted behaviourand cool courage, but also by his kind-hearted and amiable disposition. 

The approaching day of assault was now the subject of conversation amongofficers and men; for the end was at hand. On September 12 a council ofwar met in General Wilson's tent, at which all the superior officers ofthe army were present. All the arrangements for attack were perfected, and the position of every brigade and corps was fixed and decided, though the day and hour of assault was known to no one, not even to theGeneral in command. 

_September 13_. --There was no rest for us on the 13th, the last Sundaywe were destined to pass before the walls of Delhi. The fire of ourheavy cannon increased in violence every hour, and the silence of theenemy's batteries assured us of the efficacy of the bombardment, and thespeedy approach of the time when our columns would move to the assaulton the city. 

That night, soon after darkness had set in, four officers of theEngineers proceeded to examine the two large breaches in the walls madeby the batteries. It was a hazardous duty, exposing them to peril oftheir lives; but these brave young fellows executed their task insafety, and, unobserved by the enemy, few of whom seemed to be keepingwatch on the ramparts, returned to report the perfect practicability ofthe breaches for escalade. 

Then the General issued his orders for the final assault; and longbefore midnight each regiment in camp knew its allotted place in thecoming attack on the city. 

Five storming columns were formed, the position and details of eachbeing as under:

No. 1, under Brigadier General Nicholson, consisting of the 75thRegiment, 1st Bengal Fusiliers, and Punjab Infantry, to storm the breachat the Kashmir bastion--in all 1, 000 men. 

No. 2 Column, under Brigadier W. Jones (H. M. 61st Regiment), consistingof H. M. 8th (the King's) Regiment, 2nd Europeans, 4th Sikhs--altogether850 men to storm the breach near the Water bastion. 

No. 3, under Colonel Campbell, consisting of the 52nd Regiment, theKumaon battalion of Goorkhas, and 1st Punjab Infantry--in all 950men--to assault the Kashmir Gate after it should be blown in by theEngineers. 

No. 5, or the Reserve, under Brigadier Longfield (H. M. 8th Regiment), tofollow No. 3 by that gate into the city, was composed of the 61st, theBelooch battalion, 4th Punjab Infantry, and the Jhind troops--altogether1, 300 men, with 200 of H. M. 60th Rifles--to cover the advance ofNicholson's column and to form a reserve. 

The whole of the above-named columns were under the immediate command ofGeneral Nicholson, on whom devolved all arrangements for carrying outthe assault on Delhi. 

No. 4 Column, under Major Reid, the officer in command at Hindoo Rao'shouse, was formed of part of the 60th Rifles, the Sirmoor battalionof Goorkhas, detachments from European regiments, and the Kashmircontingent. This column was to attack the fortified suburb ofKishenganj, and enter the city by the Lahore Gate, meeting Nos. 1 and 2Columns at that place. 

The cavalry brigade, under Colonel Grant, composed of the 9th Lancers, part of the 6th Carabineers, with Sikh and Punjab cavalry and someHorse Artillery, took up their position on the right of No. 1 AdvancedBattery, facing the Mori Gate, and within range of Kishenganj. Theirobject was to oppose any attempt to take the storming columns inflank, to watch the movements of the enemy, and to guard the camp fromsurprise. 

To the convalescents and a small force of cavalry and artillery theprotection of the camp was confided--a very insufficient guard when itis considered that the enemy might well, out of their vast numbers, havedetached part of their horsemen and infantry to harass, if not imperil, its safety, and that of the many, sick and wounded. As will hereafter beseen, great danger resulted from the arrangements made in this respect;and had the enemy, after our unsuccessful attack on Kishenganj on the14th, but shown a spirit of pluck and daring, it is not too much toaffirm that the camp might have fallen into their hands, and oursuccesses in the city have thereby been rendered almost nugatory. 

The night of the 13th was passed by us in a cheerful mood, everyonehopeful and confident of what the morrow would bring forth. There wasa character of determination among the officers and men, a cool, deliberate conviction that, under Providence, success would crown ourarms, and that vengeance would be done on those who had forfeited theirlives by the cruel massacre of our defenceless women and children. 

Sleep visited the eyes of few in camp during the short hours ofpreparation for the assault. Fully equipped to turn out at a moment'snotice, we lay down on our beds waiting for the signal to fall in. This came at about three o'clock on the morning of September 14--anauspicious day, it being the third anniversary of the Battle of theAlma. 

_September_ 14. --The troops fell in on their respective lines, and, assembling at the slope of the ridge, the four columns of attack marchedin silence to the Flagstaff Tower. Thence, picking up the men on picket, who were all withdrawn from the outlying posts, the force moved by theroad to the neighbourhood of Ludlow Castle, and close to No. 2 AdvancedBattery. Our movements were entirely concealed from the enemy; thedarkness which prevailed, and the ample cover from trees, gardens, andhouses, masking the march of the columns, while the breaching batteries, which had kept up their fire all night long, still continued thebombardment; nor did they cease till the actual moment when the columnswere set in motion and took their way to the city. 

Just before sunrise all the dispositions were completed, the gallantNicholson, under whose orders we were, moving from point to point toperfect his arrangements. Our artillery fire ceased as if by magic; anda stillness, which contrasted ominously with the former roar and din, must have convinced the rebels that something unusual was about to takeplace. 

The 60th Rifles with a cheer advanced to the front, and opened out asskirmishers to the right and left of the Koodsia Bagh. Then followedNos. 1 and 2 Columns, which, in compact order, issued from their cover, making for the two breaches to be assaulted. 

I was with my regiment in No. 5 Column; and with breathless interest, each heart aflame with excitement, we watched our comrades marching tothe attack. Presently the order for No. 3 Column to move forward wasgiven, and at a short interval our own followed. 

Meanwhile the enemy had descried our movements, and the ramparts andwalls and also the top of the breaches were alive with men, who pouredin a galling fire on our troops Soon they reached the outer edge of themoat, and amidst a perfect hailstorm of bullets, causing great havocamong our men, the scaling-ladders were let down. The ditch here, 20feet deep and 25 feet broad, offered a serious obstacle to the quickadvance of the assaulting columns; the men fell fast under the witheringfire, and some delay ensued before the ladders could be properlyadjusted. However, nothing daunted, the opposite side was scaled, and, mounting the escarp, the assailants, with shouts and cheers that couldbe heard above the din of battle, rushed up the two breaches. 

Without waiting for the charge of the British bayonets, the greater partof the rebels deserted the walls and bastions and ran pell-mell into thecity, followed by our men. Some few stood manfully and endeavoured tocheck the flight of the rest; but they were soon shot or bayoneted, andthe two columns halted inside the walls. 

Almost simultaneously with the entrance of our troops into the city, theKashmir Gate was blown in, and No. 3 Column, followed by No. 5, advancedalong the covered way and passed into the city. We had only been, met bydesultory fire from the enemy, which caused few casualties, during ourmarch to the gate; the men were in high spirits, and longed to come toclose quarters. 

The episode of the blowing in of the Kashmir Gate of Delhi is too wellknown to require description here;[2] suffice it to say that the deedwas an act of heroism almost without a parallel in the annals of theBritish army. In broad daylight, a small band of heroes advanced toalmost certain death; but with a determination and valour seldom heardof, after repeated attempts to lay the powder-bags and apply the match, and losing nearly all their number, killed and wounded, the gate wasblown in, giving free passage to the assaulting columns. 

All the troops were now assembled at the main guard, in an open spaceclose to the Kashmir Gate, and here, as well as the firing from theenemy would permit, the force re-formed, under the orders of GeneralNicholson. Nos. 1 and 2 Columns united, and under command of thatofficer moved to their right, advancing along the walls in thatdirection and clearing everything in their way. 

No. 3 Column now marched into the heart of the city, being guided by SirTheophilus Metcalfe, and by a circuitous route made its way towards theJama Musjid. Soon we lost sight of this force, and then our own workbegan. 

Advancing from our first place at the main guard, No. 5 Column pushedforward to the College Gardens, marching through narrow streets andlanes, with high houses on each side. But how can I describe thatterrible street-fighting, which lasted without intermission the wholeday? From every window and door, from loopholes in the buildings, andfrom the tops of the houses, a storm of musketry saluted us on everyside, while every now and then, when passing the corner of a street, field-guns, loaded with grape, discharged their contents into thecolumn. Officers and men fell fast, but this only served to exasperatethe remainder, who almost without a check reached the College, and, after some severe skirmishing, cleared the gardens and houses of therebels, and bayoneted all who were found there. 

Leaving a detachment to occupy this post, we passed through more streetsand lanes, ever exposed to the same terrific fire, and after greattrouble succeeded in taking possession of Colonel Skinner's house and alarge building known as the palace of Ahmed Ali Khan. 

It was now midday, and at the latter place we were joined by No. 3Column, which, making its way to the Jama Musjid, met with such astrenuous resistance that, after losing many men, and being withoutpowder with which to blow up the gates of the mosque, it was forced toretire. The streets, we heard, were alive with men on their line ofroute, and the column had been exposed to incessant fire without anygood resulting from their undaunted efforts. 

There was work enough and to spare to clear the streets and houses infront and on each side of the Kashmir Gate; and from the time thetwo columns joined forces till night set in a continuous fight wasmaintained. The system of attack in which we were engaged allowed of noformation being retained. Isolated groups of men, European and native, led sometimes by officers, and often without any leaders, roamed throughthe narrow streets, entering houses from which the fire was more thanusually severe, and putting to death without mercy all who were foundinside. 

On one occasion a party of sepoys and armed rabble emerged from a housein our front, and were seen by our men, who immediately opened fire. Soon they were followed by a troop of women yelling and screaming. Keeping these as a cover for their retreat, the rebels got clear away, the soldiers having desisted from firing the moment the women appeared. This was a ruse which, I heard from others, was often adopted by themutineers, who seemed to know intuitively that their women and childrenwere safe from the fire of our men. 

The deeds of individual daring performed during September 14 werenumberless, and I was witness of many feats of arms and cool courageby the rank and file and non-commissioned officers of the differentregiments. A private of my corps, a huge Grenadier Irishman namedMoylan, saved the life of an officer under circumstances which fullyentitled him to the coveted distinction of the Victoria Cross. In one ofthe numerous encounters which took place this officer, leading on a fewmen, turned sharply round the corner of a street, and was met by a forceof sepoys coming from the opposite direction. A shot struck him, and hewas felled to the ground from the blow of a sword, and would have beenquickly despatched had not Moylan rushed to his rescue. Discharging hismusket, he shot one of the assailants, and charged with the bayonet. This was broken off; and then, with firelock clubbed, he stood over theprostrate officer, dealing such fearful blows with the weapon--fellinghis foes in every direction--that the sepoys took to their heels, andMoylan, picking up the wounded officer, brought him to a place ofsafety. He was made a sergeant on the spot by the Colonel, but allefforts to obtain the Cross for this gallant fellow were unavailing. Inthose days the distinction was but seldom given; probably so many nameswere submitted for the General's consideration that only a few could beapproved, and the application for Moylan was passed by. 

But though in the latter's case the Victoria Cross was not given, it wasawarded to a surgeon (named Reade) of my regiment on that day. He wasever to be found in the thick of the fighting, ministering to thewounded and cheering on the men. While engaged in his professionalduties, a number of sepoys poured a deadly fire from the far end of astreet into the group of wounded of which he was the central figure. This was too much for the surgeon, who, drawing his sword, called onsome men of the regiment close by, and led them in gallant style againstthe enemy, whom he dispersed with great loss, killing two sepoys withhis own hand. Not only on this occasion, but on several others, thesurgeon's bravery was most conspicuous, no one grudging him thedistinction he had so gallantly won. 

There is nothing so destructive of the morale and discipline of soldiersas street-fighting, nor can control be maintained except by men ofextraordinary resolution. The veterans of the European regimentscomposing the Delhi army on the day of assault fully justified theirreputation. Cool and determined, they kept in check the impulsive valourof the young soldiers, and assisted their officers on various occasionswhen it became almost impossible to control their ardour. Till lateat night the fighting never ceased; the weary and famished soldiers, exhausted and worn out from fatigue and exposure, and without a moment'srest, carried out the work of clearing the streets and houses, exposedall the time to a fire of musketry, coming chiefly from unseen foes. 

Many lost their lives in the houses, where, entangled in the labyrinthof roofs, courtyards, and passages, they were shot down by the inmates, and were found, in several instances days after, with their throats cutand otherwise mutilated. The hope of finding plunder in these placesalso led many to their doom, and accounted for the large list of missingsoldiers whose names appeared in the day's casualties. 

And now I must pass from our force to record the doings of No. 1 and2 Columns, under General Nicholson. These, for a long distance, hadcarried all before them, taking possession of the ramparts and bastionsas far as the Kabul Gate, and effectually clearing the streets leadingto the heart of the city. Exposed to a pitiless fire of grape andmusketry through their whole advance, their loss was very heavy, but, still pressing forward, barrier after barrier was taken, the guns oneach bastion, after its capture, being at once turned on the city. Theirgoal was the Burn bastion and the Lahore Gate, and all that men could dowith their diminished numbers was tried at those points without effect. The rebels were in enormous force at these positions; field-guns andhowitzers poured grape and canister into the assaulting columns, andmusketry rained on them from the adjoining houses. Time after timeattacks were made, till the sadly harassed soldiers, completely wornout, were forced to retire to the Kabul Gate and the bastions andramparts they had already gained. 

It was in one of these unsuccessful attempts to carry the Lahore Gatethat Nicholson fell mortally wounded. Ever eager and impetuous, hisdauntless soul led him into the thick of the combat. Spurning danger, and unmindful of his valuable life, he was in the front, in the actof encouraging and leading on his men, when the fatal shot laid low aspirit whose equal there was not to be found in India. He lingeredfor some days in great torment, expiring on September 23, mourned byeveryone in the force, from the General in command to the privatesoldier, all of whom knew his worth, and felt that in the then momentouscrisis his absence from amongst us could ill be borne. No eulogy can addto his renown; through his efforts, more than those of any other, Delhifell, and he left his unconquered spirit as a heritage for the workstill to be accomplished in the pacification of India. His name itselfwas a tower of strength in the army. Peerless amongst the brave men ofhis time, to what brilliant destinies might he not have succeeded hadhis young life (he was but thirty-four years old) been prolonged!

I must now revert to No. 4 Column, under Major Reid, and the attack onthe strong fortified suburb of Kishenganj. About 100 men of my regimentwere engaged in this affair; and from the lips of our officers I had afull account of the fight and the subsequent retreat. [3]

The morning had dawned, and Major Reid waited to hear the signal tocommence operations--the blowing in of the Kashmir Gate. His force, numbering about 1, 000 men besides the Kashmir troops, were formed up onthe Grand Trunk Road, opposite the Sabzi Mandi picket and at the foot ofthe ridge. Now the sun had risen, and still he watched for the signal, when shots in quick succession were heard on the right of the column, and it became known that the Kashmir contingent, without waiting fororders, had become engaged with the enemy. 

Some men of the 60th Rifles were thrown out as skirmishers, and MajorReid moved with his force in the direction of Kishenganj. Soon they werestopped by strong breastworks thrown up by the enemy and barring theroad to the suburb, the rebels being concealed behind these in greatforce, and pouring a heavy fire on our troops when only fifty yardsdistant. A rush was made for the earthworks, which were taken in gallantstyle; but the want of field-guns was here felt, and the enemy retired ashort distance amongst the gardens, from which they continued to harassour troops. The Kishenganj battery also opened fire, and our positionbecame critical in the extreme from the increasing number of the foe, who were constantly reinforced, and defied all endeavours to drive themfrom their cover. 

While the struggle was thus raging on the left, the Kashmir troops onthe extreme right flank had become involved with a large force of theenemy of all arms, who, no doubt despising the martial qualities ofthese half-disciplined levies, attacked them on all sides withgreat vigour. Our allies made no stand, and soon became completelydisorganized, flying at length in headlong rout, with the loss of alltheir guns. No record was kept of their casualties, but they must havebeen very severe. For the future they remained unemployed in their camp, bewailing the loss of their four guns, and were never again engaged withthe enemy. 

Two or three days after the capture of Delhi I was wandering, with someothers, through the streets of the city, when we came upon an officerand four men of the contingent, who accosted us, asking if we had heardor seen anything of their lost guns. They seemed in great grief, fearingthe wrath of the Maharajah of Kashmir when they should arrive home, leaving the guns behind. With difficulty restraining a laugh, we assuredthem that we could give no information on the subject, and counselledthem to search among the guns on the bastions near the Lahore and AjmirGates. They succeeded eventually in finding two, the others probablybeing borne off as trophies by the sepoys during the evacuation ofDelhi. The contingent soon afterwards left for Kashmir, but how theywere received by the Maharajah we never heard, though probably condignpunishment was meted out to those who had actual charge of the guns. 

The defeat of the Kashmir troops had a most disastrous effect on theissue of the attack on Kishenganj. Reinforced in great numbers, as Ihave related, the enemy maintained their ground, and our men could makeno impression on them, chiefly from the want of field-guns. Major Reid, moreover, was wounded at an early stage of the action, and was carriedoff the field. His absence was soon felt in the altered dispositions ofthe force, and the want of a leader to carry out the plans formed byhim. 

The breastworks which had been taken could not be held for want ofsupport, and some confusion resulted, the enemy's artillery fromKishenganj and musketry from the gardens causing great destruction. Many gallant attempts were made to drive off the rebels, but all wereunavailing; and at length, after losing one-third of its number, thecolumn fell back in good order to its original starting-point near theSabzi Mandi, and Kishenganj remained in the hands of the enemy. Had thatposition been taken, and No. 4 Column, according to instructions, pushedon to the Lahore Gate, no good, as it turned out, would have beeneffected. Nicholson's columns, as related, had been forced to retire;the gate would have remained closed, and possibly the undertaking wouldhave resulted in a more serious collapse than the ineffectual attempt onKishenganj. 

The presence of a large unconquered force on our right flank also placedthe camp in imminent danger. It was known--from information receivedfrom spies--that it was the enemy's intention, after our failureto dislodge them from the suburb, to make an attack on the almostunprotected camp. The danger fortunately passed off, the rebels probablyhaving little heart to join in operations to our rear when they heardthe news of the signal success of our columns in the city. Still, theirpresence at Kishenganj was a standing menace; nor were we completely atease with regard to the safety of the camp till the 20th, when the citywas found to be evacuated by the enemy, and our troops immediately tookpossession. 

Lastly, I must narrate the doings of the Cavalry Brigade. This force, with Horse Artillery, was stationed near No. 1 Advanced Battery, underthe command of Brigadier Hope-Grant, their duty being to guard ourright flank from being turned during the assault on the city. Here theyremained, keeping a watchful lookout for some hours, till orders camefor the brigade to move towards the walls of Delhi. They halted oppositethe Kabul Gate, at a distance of 400 yards, and were at once exposed tothe fire from the bastions, and to musketry from the gardens outsidethe suburbs of Taliwarra and Kishenganj. Our Horse Artillery made goodpractice, driving the enemy from their cover and spiking two guns; butthe exposed situation caused great losses in the cavalry, and they movedstill further to their front, halting amidst some trees. 

The enemy now sallied from the gardens as though with the intentionof driving the cavalry in the direction of the Kashmir Gate. Thecircumstances were most critical, when a body of Guide Infantry, comingup at the time, threw themselves on the rebels, maintaining their placewith great resolution till help arrived, with a part of the Beloochbattalion, and the enemy were forced to retire. 

Too much praise cannot be given to the 9th Lancers and Horse Artilleryfor their conduct on this occasion. Exposed for hours to cannonadeand musketry, unable to act from the nature of the ground, they neverflinched from their post, forming a living target to the fire of therebels. The same may be said of the Sikh and Punjabi cavalry, whodisplayed a coolness and intrepidity scarcely, if at all, lessmeritorious than that of their European comrades. Our casualties werevery severe, the 9th Lancers alone losing upwards of twenty men killedand wounded. 

And now that I have described the operations of each column and portionsof the Delhi army during September 14, it will be necessary to recordthe advantages we had gained. From the Water bastion to the Kabul Gate, a distance of more than a mile, and constituting the northern faceof the fortifications of Delhi, was in our possession, with all theintervening bastions, ramparts, and walls. Some progress had been madeinto the city opposite, and to the right and left of the Kashmir Gate, and along the line of walls. The College and its grounds, ColonelSkinner's house, that of Ahmed Ali Khan, and many other smallerbuildings were held by the infantry. The enemy's guns on the bastionshad been turned on to the city, and a constant fire was kept up, thestreets and lanes being cleared in front, and advanced posts occupied byour men. 

These advantages had not been gained without a severe struggle, and aterrible roll of killed and wounded was the consequence. Our casualtieson September 14 amounted to upwards of 1, 200 officers and men killed, wounded, and missing--a loss out of all proportion to the small numberof men engaged, and when the relative forces are considered, farexceeding that which was suffered by the British army during the assaulton the Redan on September 8, 1855. The deadly and destructive natureof street-fighting was here apparent, and the long-sustained contest, lasting more than twelve hours, swelled the total loss to the excessiveamount recorded. In my regiment alone 100 men were placed _hors decombat_, thirty-three being killed; but the other European regimentssuffered still more in proportion, and especially so those which tookpart in the actual assault on the breaches. 

The native troops fought with the most determined bravery; Sikhs, Punjabis, and Goorkhas, side by side with their English comrades, pressed into the forefront of the strife, helping in the most materialmanner towards the day's success. 

It was impossible to ascertain the loss sustained by the enemy. Deadbodies lay thick in the streets and open spaces, and numbers were killedin the houses; but the greater part of those who fell were nodoubt carried off by the rebels. In the ardour of the fight manynon-combatants also lost their lives, our men, mad and excited, makingno distinction. 

There is no more terrible spectacle than a city taken by storm. All thepent-up passions of men are here let loose without restraint. Rousedto a pitch of fury from long-continued resistance, and eager to takevengeance on the murderers of women and children, the men in theirpitiless rage showed no mercy. The dark days of Badajoz and SanSebastian were renewed on a small scale at Delhi; and during theassault, seeing the impetuous fury of our men, I could not helprecalling to my mind the harrowing details of the old Peninsular Warshere reproduced before my eyes. 

With the exception of a small amount of looting, the men were too muchoccupied with fighting and vengeance to take note of the means oftemptation which lay within their reach in the untold quantities ofspirits in the stores of the city. Strong drink is now, and has in allages been, the bane of the British soldier--a propensity he cannotresist in times of peace, and which is tenfold aggravated when excitedby fighting, and when the wherewithal to indulge it lies spread beforehim, as was the case at Delhi. When and by whom begun I cannot say, butearly in the morning of the 15th the stores had been broken into, andthe men revelled in unlimited supplies of drink of every kind. It is asad circumstance to chronicle, and the drunkenness which ensued mighthave resulted in serious consequences to the army had the enemy takenadvantage of the sorry position we were in. Vain were the attempts madeat first to put a stop to the dissipations, and not till orders wentforth from the General to destroy all the liquor that could be found didthe orgy cease, and the men return crestfallen and ashamed to a senseof their duties. The work of destruction was carried out chiefly by theSikhs and Punjabis, and the wasted drink ran in streams through theconduits of the city. 

_September 15_. --This untoward event considerably hampered theoperations on September 15, and but small progress was made that daytowards driving the rebels out of Delhi. The artillery and engineersworked hard at the completion of the batteries on the captured bastions, on which were mounted our own and the enemy's heavy guns; and one formortars was erected in the College grounds, which shelled the Palaceand the Fort of Selimgarh. A few houses were taken in advance of ourpositions, but no further movement on any large scale was attempted, owing to the demoralized state of a great portion of the Europeaninfantry, and, further, to a desire that the troops should obtain somerest after the unparalleled fatigues and exposure of the previous day. 

Reports also spread through the force that the General, feeling hisstrength and means inadequate to hold even the portions of the city inour possession, meditated an evacuation of the place, and a retirementto the old camp to await reinforcements. Every consideration must bemade for one placed in his critical position; and he, no doubt, in hisown mind, felt justified in proposing the step, which, had it beencarried out, would, in all probability, have ended in the fall ofBritish rule in India. "In an extraordinary situation extraordinaryresolution is needed, " was the saying of the Great Napoleon, and to nocrisis in our history was this dictum more applicable than that at Delhiin September, 1857. Mutiny and rebellion spread their hydra heads overthe land, disaffection was rife in the Punjab, our only source of supplyfor operations in the field; and nought could stay the alarming symptomssave the complete capture and retention of the great stronghold ofrebellion. It had also been a well-known maxim laid down and carried outby Clive, Wellesley, Lake, and all the great commanders who had madeour name famous in Hindostan, never to retire before an Eastern foe, nomatter how great the disparity of numbers; and history tells us that oursuccesses were due mainly to this rule, while the few reverses we havesuffered resulted from a timid policy carried out by men whose heartfailed them in the hour of trial. 

Happily for the Delhi army, and more especially for the English name, the counsels of the General in command were overruled by the chiefofficers in the force, and even the gallant Nicholson from his death-beddenounced, in language which those who heard it will never forget, thestep contemplated by his superior officer. 

Towards the evening of the 15th the enemy, becoming emboldened by ourinactivity, attacked the advanced posts along our whole line, and keptup a sharp musketry fire, more especially on the College compound, whilethe heavy guns at Selimgarh and some at the magazine shelled thosegardens and houses adjacent--even as far as the Kashmir Gate--occupiedby our troops. At 5 p. M. A battery of heavy guns played on the defencesof the magazine, soon crumbling the wall to pieces, and opening out alarge breach for assault. 

_September 16_. --My regiment, the 4th Punjab Rifles, and a wing of theBelooch battalion were detailed as a storming party, and mustering at anearly hour on the morning of the 16th, we marched to the attack onthe magazine. [4] This enclosure--a large walled area close to thePalace--was surrounded by a high curtained wall with towers, theinterior space being occupied by buildings and containing a park ofartillery and munitions of war. We met with no resistance on our way, and on approaching the breach saw only a few defenders on the ramparts, who opened a fire, which, however, caused little damage. A rush was atonce made, the men gaining the top of the bridge without difficulty, andbayoneting some sepoys and firing on the remainder, who fled through theenclosure and were driven out at the gates on the opposite side. We hadonly about a dozen men killed and wounded, but of the enemy more than100 lost their lives, being dragged out of the buildings where they hadtaken refuge and quickly put to death. Two hundred and thirty-two gunsfell into our hands, besides piles of shot and shell; in fact, so vastwas the amount that, although the enemy had been firing from theirbatteries for more than three months, making a lavish use of the storesat their command, scarcely any impression seemed to have been made onit. 

That day and the following night our position in the captured magazinewas anything but pleasant. The rebels continually harassed us withshells fired from the Chandni Chauk and near the Palace. Some, moreventuresome than the rest, climbed on ladders to the top of the walls, plying us with musketry and hand-grenades, while others during the nightmounted the high trees overhanging the enclosure, and with long lightedbamboos tried to set fire to the thatched buildings and blow up a smallmagazine. These attempts kept us constantly on the alert; and it waswith great difficulty that we prevented damage being done. 

Fighting continued during the day among the other portions of the force, and Nos. 1 and 2 Columns made further advances among the streets, theguns and mortars from the bastions throwing shot and shell far into thecrowded parts of the city. Houses in commanding situations were takenand made secure from assault by defences of sand-bags. Great judgmentwas shown in these operations, and the losses in consequence werecomparatively few; but the enemy as yet gave no signs of retreatingfrom Delhi, and our leaders felt that great exertions would still benecessary before the city fell entirely into our hands. 

_September 17_. --During the 17th and 18th a constant fire of shells fromupwards of twenty mortars was directed from the magazine and Collegegrounds on the Selimgarh Fort and the Palace, those from the bastionsstill firing into a large portion of the city. Skirmishing went on atthe advanced posts, and a regular unbroken line of communication wasestablished from one end of our pickets to the other. 

_September 18_. --On the 18th my regiment moved from the magazine andtook up its quarters in the Protestant Church, close to the main guardand Kashmir Gate, and at no great distance from the northern walls ofthe city. This church had been built by the gallant and philanthropicColonel Alexander Skinner, C. B. , an Eurasian and an Irregular cavalrycommander of some eminence during the wars in the beginning of thecentury. He also erected at his own expense a Hindoo temple and aMohammedan mosque, giving as his reason that all religions were alike, and that, in his opinion, each one was entitled to as much considerationas the other. 

This church in which we were now quartered had been sadly desecrated bythe rebels and fanatics of the city. They had, in their religious zeal, torn down the pulpit and reading-desk, defaced emblems, broken up thepews and the benches, and shattered all the panes of glass, while hereand there inside the building were remains of their cooking-places, withbroken fragments of utensils. The walls, too, had suffered much from theeffects of our bombardment from September 11 to 14, the church beingin the line of fire directed on the bastions. Many, no doubt, wouldconsider it a sacrilege to quarter English troops in this sacrededifice, but the exigencies of war required its use for this purpose, and of all the buildings occupied by us during our stay in Delhi, thechurch was found to be cleanest and best ventilated, free from thenoisome smells and close atmosphere of the native houses. 

The close of the 18th saw our outposts extended hard by the ChandniChauk--the main street of the city--the bank, Major Abbott's and KhanMohammed's houses having first been seized by our men, who sufferedseverely from the field-guns and musketry of the rebels. There was alsoanother unsuccessful attack made on the Burn bastion and Lahore Gateby the right column, in which the 75th lost one officer and manymen killed. The arrangements for attack seemed to have been bad andill-advised; the soldiers felt the want of the guiding genius ofNicholson, and, during an advance through a narrow lane were literallymown down by grape from the enemy's field-guns. 

The weather, which since the 14th had been fine, broke up on the nightof the 18th, and was succeeded by a terrific storm of rain, which fellin torrents like a deluge. That night it was reported that the rebels ingreat numbers were evacuating the city by the south side, the Bareillyand Neemuch brigades making off in the direction of Gwalior. Certain itis that from this period signs of waning strength appeared among theenemy, and fewer attempts at assault were made on our outposts, thoseon the left near the Palace, which were well protected by breastworks, being only exposed to a very desultory fire of musketry. 

During the forenoon of the 18th there was, I think, a partial eclipse ofthe sun, which lasted three hours. The unusual darkness which prevailedastonished us beyond measure (our minds being taken up with events morestartling than astronomical phenomena) till reference to an almanacexplained the mystery. The eclipse had, we were told, an alarming effecton the mutineers, who attributed the phenomenon to some supernaturalagency. The darkness no doubt worked on their superstitious fears, andhastened their flight from the city on which the wrath of the Almightyhad descended. 

_September 19_. --On the 19th operations in front of the Palace Gate werecontinued, a heavy fire being kept up against that place, while the 60thRifles and others, perched on the tops of houses, took unerring aim atthe rebels clustered in the open space. The same evening, also, theexertions of the right column were rewarded by the capture of the Burnbastion, with little loss on our side. 

It was now quite evident that the baffled insurgents were retiring fromDelhi in great numbers, mostly by the south side, few crossing thebridge of boats by day owing to it being commanded by our guns. But onthe night of the 19th, when sitting in the church compound watching theshells exploding over the Palace and Selimgarh, we heard distinctly, through the intervals of firing, a distant, confused hum of voices, likethe murmur of a great multitude. The sound came from the direction ofthe river, and was caused by multitudes of human beings, who, escapingby the bridge of boats to the opposite side, were deserting the citywhich was so soon to fall into our hands. 

_September 20_. --After some sharp fighting, and early on the morning ofSeptember 20, the Lahore Gate and Garstin bastion, which during formerassaults had cost us the lives of so many men, were taken, the columnpushing on along the walls to the Ajmir Gate, which also fell into ourhands. There were few defenders at these places, the mass of sepoyshaving evidently fled into the country; and the troops marched throughthe streets almost without opposition. 

There now remained but the Palace, Selimgarh, and the Jama Masjid, andthese were all occupied by our troops on that day. The former seemedalmost deserted, an occasional shot from the high walls directed on ourdefences in the Chandni Chauk being the only signs of animation in thatquarter. Powder-bags were brought up and attached, to the great gate, which was quickly blown in; and the 60th Rifles, with some Goorkhas, rushed into the enclosure. A score or two of armed fanatics offered someresistance, but they were soon shot down or bayoneted, and a few woundedsepoys found in the buildings were put to death. Passing through thePalace, Selimgarh was entered, and this, the last fortified positionbelonging to the enemy, was taken possession of without a struggle. 

Meanwhile, a force of cavalry under Hodson moved round outside the citywalls, and found a large camp of the enemy near the Delhi Gate. Thiswas deserted, save by some sick and wounded sepoys, who were put to thesword; and the horsemen, riding through the gate, made their way intothe heart of the city and took possession of the Jama Masjid withoutstriking a blow. 

Delhi had at length fallen into our hands, and the toils and dangersof more than three months were at an end. The principal buildings wereoccupied by our troops, and guards were placed at each gate with ordersto prevent the ingress or egress of any suspicious-looking characters, while parties of armed men patrolled the streets of the city from end toend. 

That night we moved back to our old quarters at Ahmed Ali Khan's house, the 52nd taking our place at the church. The first-named building was avast structure, belonging to a rich native, and had been furnished in astyle of Oriental magnificence; but now nothing but the bare walls andfloors were to be seen, the place having been ransacked of its treasuresand completely gutted since our last occupancy. 

From September 15 to 20, when Delhi fell, the force lost in killed andwounded about 200 officers and men, making the total casualties 1, 400, including those of the day of assault. 

From May 30 to September 13 inclusive 2, 490 officers and men were killedand wounded, the grand total being close on 4, 000. Add to these fully1, 200 who perished by cholera and other diseases, and it will be seen atwhat a fearful cost of life to the small force engaged the victory waswon. 

Truly the capture of Delhi was a feat of arms without a parallel inour Indian annals. The bravery of the men, their indomitable pluck andresolution, the siege carried on with dogged pertinacity and without amurmur, proclaimed to the world that British soldiers, in those stormytimes when the fate of an Empire was at issue, had fully maintained thereputation of their ancestors and earned the gratitude of their country. 

To me, after the long interval of years, the incidents of the siege, with its continual strife and ever-recurring dangers, come back to me asin a dream. Often in fancy has my mind wandered back to those daysof turmoil and excitement, when men's hearts were agitated to theirprofoundest depths, and our cause appeared wellnigh hopeless. Then itwas that a small body of men in a far-away part of North-West India, entirely separated from the rest of the world, a few thousands amongstmillions of an alien race, rallied round their country's banners anddespaired not, though mutiny and rebellion ranged through the land. Withsteadfast purpose and with hearts that knew no fear, the Delhi armyheld its own for months against an overwhelming force of cruel andremorseless rebels. Imperfectly equipped, and with little knowledge ofthe dangers to be surmounted and the difficulties arising on everyside, each man of that force felt himself a host, and devoted hisenergies--nay, his very life--to meet the crisis. None but those whowere there can for one moment realize through what suffering andhardship the troops passed during the three months the Siege of Delhilasted. Day after day, under a burning sun or through the deadly time ofthe rainy season, with pestilence in their midst, distressing accountsfrom all parts of the country, and no hope of relief save through theirown unaided exertions, the soldiers of the army before Delhi fought witha courage and constancy which no difficulties could daunt and no trials, however severe, could overcome. In the end these men, worn out byexposure and diminished in numbers, stormed a strong fortified citydefended by a vastly superior force, and for six days carried on aconstant fight in the streets, till the enemy were driven out of theirstronghold and Delhi was won. It must also be remembered that thefeat was accomplished without the help of a single soldier from home;reinforcements had arrived in the country, but they were hundreds ofmiles distant when the news reached them of the capture of Delhi: and itis not too much to say that the success which followed the subsequentoperations down-country was due mainly to the fact that all danger fromthe north-west had virtually ceased, and the mutiny had already receiveda crushing blow from the capture of the great city of rebellion. 

[Footnote 1: Lieutenant Boileau, 61st Regiment, served in the batteriestill the end of the siege. ]

[Footnote 2: Are not the names of the Engineers Home and Salkeld and ofBugler Hawthorne (H. M. 52nd Regiment) household words?]

[Footnote 3: Captain Deacon and Lieutenants Moore and Young were woundedin this engagement. ]

[Footnote 4: Colonel Deacon, Her Majesty's 61st Regiment, commanded onthis occasion. ]

CHAPTER V

OCCUPATION OF THE CITY

The renown won by our troops in 1857 is now wellnigh forgotten, and, in fact, their deeds in that distant quarter of our Empire faded intooblivion within a very short period subsequent to the capture of Delhi. When the regiments engaged at that place came home to England after along course of service in India, scarcely any notice was taken of theirarrival. There were no marchings past before Her Majesty at Windsor orelsewhere, no public distribution of medals and rewards, no banquetsgiven to the leading officers of the force, and no record publishedof the arduous duties in which they had been engaged. Those times arechanged, and the country has now rushed into the opposite extreme offulsome adulation, making a laughing-stock of the army and coveringwith glory the conquerors in a ten days' war waged against the wretchedfellaheen soldiers of Egypt. 

Five years passed away after 1857 (and how many poor fellows had died inthe meantime!) before a mean and niggardly Government distributed to theremnant of the Delhi army the first instalment of prize-money, and threeyears more elapsed before the second was paid. 

In September, 1861, exactly four years after the storm of Delhi, myregiment paraded at the Plymouth citadel to receive medals for thecampaign of 1857. The distribution took place in the quietest mannerpossible, none but the officers and men of the regiment being present. Borne on a large tray into the midst of a square, the medals were handedby a sergeant to each one entitled to the long-withheld decoration, theAdjutant meanwhile reading out the names of the recipients. There wasno fuss or ceremony, but I recollect that those present could not helpcontrasting the scene with the grand parade and the presence of theQueen when some of the Crimean officers and men received the numerousdecorations so lavishly bestowed for that campaign. [1]

The city was entirely in our possession by noon of September 20, andshortly after that hour I proceeded on horseback, with orders fromthe Colonel, to withdraw all the advanced pickets of my regimentto headquarters at Ahmed Ali Khan's house. These were stationed indifferent parts of the city, and it was with no small difficulty that Ithreaded my way through the streets and interminable narrow lanes, whichwere all blocked up with heaps of broken furniture and rubbish that hadbeen thrown out of the houses by our troops, and formed in places analmost impassable barrier. Not a soul was to be seen; all was stillas death, save now and then the sound of a musket-shot in the far-offquarters of the town. 

My duty accomplished, I started in the afternoon with two of ourofficers to view a portion of the city. We made our way first in thedirection of the Palace, passing down the Chandni Chauk (Silver Street)and entering the Great Gate of the former imperial residence of theMogul Emperors. Here a guard of the 60th Rifles kept watch and ward withsome of the jovial little Goorkhas of the Kumaon battalion. From thefirst we learnt particulars of the easy capture of the Palace thatmorning, and were shown the bodies of the fanatics who had disputed theentrance and had been killed in the enclosure. None of them were sepoys, but belonged to that class of men called "ghazi, " or champions of thefaith, men generally intoxicated with bhang, who are to be found inevery Mohammedan army--fierce madmen, devotees to death in the cause ofreligion. Passing on, we wandered through the courts, wondering at thevast size of this castellated palace with its towering, embattled walls, till we came to the Dewan-i-Khas, and further on to the Dewan-i-Aum, orHall of Audience. This last, a large building of white marble on thebattlements overhanging the River Jumna, was now the headquarters of theGeneral and his staff, and where formerly the descendants of the greatwarrior Tamerlane held their court, British officers had taken up theirabode; and infidels desecrated those halls, where only "true believers"had assembled for hundreds of years. 

Passing thence through a gateway and over a swinging bridge, we enteredthe old fort of Selimgarh, built, like the Palace, on the banks of theriver, its battlements, as well as those of the latter place on itseastern side, being washed by the waters of the Jumna. Several heavyguns and mortars were mounted on the walls of the fort, and we noticedone old cannon of immense size for throwing stone balls, but which wascracked at the muzzle, and evidently had not been used for centuries. The fort was full of large and commodious buildings, used afterwards forhospitals by our troops, the place itself, from its commanding situationopen and separate from the rest of the city, being the healthiest placethat could be found. There was a lovely view of the country on the leftbank of the Jumna, while to the north and south we followed the windingsof the broad river till lost to view in the far distance. 

Descending from Selimgarh, we took our stand on the bridge of boats nowdeserted in its whole length, but over which, during the days of thesiege, thousands of mutineers had marched to swell the rebel forces inDelhi. Thence we skirted along the banks of the river outside the walls, viewing on our way the houses of the European residents, built incharming situations close to the water's edge. These had been allentirely destroyed, gutted, and burnt; nothing but the bare walls wereleft standing, and the interiors filled with heaps of ashes. We thoughtof the wretched fate of the former inmates of these houses, most ofwhom had been mercilessly killed by the city rabble, urged on in theirfiendish work by the native soldiers, of the regular army. 

The mutineers of the 3rd Light Cavalry from Meerut had entered Delhi onMay 11, crossing the Jumna by the bridge of boats, and, being joinedby the city scoundrels, first wreaked their vengeance on the Europeanresidents who lived close by, and who, without any previous warning ofthe terrible fate in store for them, fell easy victims to the murderers. It made our blood run cold, when visiting the ruins of these houses, tothink of the dastardly crimes which had been committed in and around thespots on which we were standing. Defenceless and unarmed, helplessin the hands of these human tigers, our unfortunate men, women, andchildren were immolated without mercy. Turning back, we entered the cityby the Calcutta Gate, and walked along the ramparts by the riverside, past the walls of the magazine, till we reached the Water bastion. Herethe destructive effect of our batteries during the bombardment was mostapparent. Fired at the distance of only 180 yards, the guns had smashedthe walls and ramparts to pieces, huge fragments had rolled down intothe ditch, and the cannon in the battery were completely dismounted fromthe carriages, lying in confusion one on top of the other. 

At the Kashmir Gate there was a heap of goods (consisting principallyof clothes and rubbish) many feet high, which had been looted from thehouses around. The guard at the gate had orders to allow no one to passout with a bundle of any kind; and the consequence was an accumulationof material, chiefly worthless, which covered many square yards ofground. I have omitted all record of the plundering which up to thistime, and for long afterwards, took place all over the city whereour troops had penetrated. This account I have reserved for the lastchapter, where full details of the loot of Delhi and the amount ofprize-money accruing to the force will be found. _September 21_. --Duringthe 21st I, in company with other officers, wandered over the heart ofthe city, continuing our perambulations south of the Chandni Chauk andpenetrating into streets beyond, where the six days' fighting had takenplace. The night before we had heard occasional shots fired at no greatdistance, and these were continued during the day and for some timeafterwards. 

Looting was going on to a great extent, both European and nativesoldiers engaging in the work; and though strict orders had been issuedto prevent such licence, it was found impossible to check the evil. Theshots emanated from these men, who, of course, went about well armed, and brooked no interference when in the act of securing booty. Altercations of a serious nature had taken place between the Europeansand Sikh soldiers, ending sometimes in blows, and often in bloodshed, when the two parties met in a house or were busy employed in dividingthe spoil. However, in time, when most of the native troops had leftDelhi, and the European regiments were quartered in walled enclosureswith a guard at the gates to prevent egress, the looting on the part ofthe private soldiers ceased, and the prize agents were enabled to gatherin the enormous wealth of the city without any trouble. 

The portions of the town we passed through on that day had been pillagedto the fullest extent. Not content with ransacking the interior of eachhouse, the soldiers had broken up every article of furniture, and withwanton destruction had thrown everything portable out of the windows. Each street was filled with a mass of debris consisting of householdeffects of every kind, all lying in inextricable confusion one on top ofthe other, forming barricades--from end to end of a street--many feethigh. We entered several of the large houses belonging to the wealthierclass of natives, and found every one in the same condition, turnedinside out, their ornaments torn to pieces, costly articles, too heavyto remove, battered into fragments, and a general air of desolationpervading each building. Much of this wholesale destruction was, nodoubt, attributable to the action of the sepoys and rabble of the city, who during the siege, and in the state of anarchy which prevailed duringthat period, had looted to their hearts' content, levying blackmail onthe richer inhabitants and pursuing their evil course without let orhindrance. Still, that which had escaped the plundering and devastatinghands of the sepoys was most effectually ruined by our men. Not asingle house or building remained intact, and the damage done must haveamounted to thousands of pounds. 

We were quite alone in most streets; deserted and silent, they resembleda city of the dead on which some awful catastrophe had fallen. It wasdifficult to realize that we were passing through what had been, only afew days before, the abode of thousands of people. What had become ofthem, and by what magic influence had all disappeared? Not till daysafterwards was the mystery solved. 

The _tai-khanas_, or underground rooms of houses, scattered all over thecity, were found to be filled with human beings--those who, by age orinfirmity, had been unable to join in the general exodus which had takenplace during the last days of the siege. Hundreds of old men, women andchildren, were found huddled together, half starved, in these places, the most wretched-looking objects I ever saw. There was no means offeeding them in the city, where their presence also would have raised aplague and many would have died; so, by the orders of the General, theywere turned out of the gates of Delhi and escorted into the country. Itwas a melancholy sight, seeing them trooping out of the town, hundredspassing through the Lahore Gate every day for a whole week. We were toldthat provisions had been collected for their use at a place some milesdistant, and it is to be hoped the poor creatures were saved fromstarvation; but we had our doubts on the subject, and, knowing howcallous with regard to human suffering the authorities had become, Ifear that many perished from want and exposure. 

There were other objects also which raised feelings of pity in ourminds. During our walks through the streets we caught sight of dozensof cats and tame monkeys on the roofs of the houses, looking at us withmost woe-begone countenances, the latter chattering with fear. These, aswell as birds of every description left behind in cages by their ownerson their flight, literally starved to death in the houses and streets ofthe city. There was no food for such as these, and it is lamentable tothink of the torture and suffering the poor pet creatures endured tilldeath put an end to their misery. 

Dead bodies of sepoys and city inhabitants lay scattered in everydirection, poisoning the air for many days, and raising a stench whichwas unbearable. These in time were almost all cleared away by the nativescavengers, but in some distant streets corpses lay rotting in the sunfor weeks, and during my rides on duty, when stationed at the AjmirGate, I often came across a dead body which had escaped search. 

On the afternoon of the 21st a most important capture was effected byHodson. Shah Bahadoor Shah, the old King of Delhi, was taken by thatofficer near the city while endeavouring to escape down-country. 

Hodson, with his accustomed daring, and accompanied by 100 only of hisown troopers, seized the person of the King from amongst thousands ofarmed dependents and rabble, who, awed by his stern demeanour, did notraise a hand in resisting the capture. The King was brought to Delhi thesame day, and lodged as a prisoner in the house formerly the residenceof the notorious Begum Sumroo. He was guarded by fifty men of myregiment, under command of a Lieutenant; and on the 22nd I went to seehim, accompanied by our Adjutant. 

Sitting cross-legged on a cushion placed on a common native _charpoy_, or bed, in the verandah of a courtyard, was the last representative ofthe Great Mogul dynasty. There was nothing imposing in his appearance, save a long white beard which reached to his girdle. About middleheight, and upwards of seventy years old, he was dressed in white, witha conical-shaped turban of the same colour and material, while at hisback two attendants stood, waving over his head large fans of peacocks'feathers, the emblem of sovereignty--a pitiable farce in the case of onewho was already shorn of his regal attributes, a prisoner in the handsof his enemies. Not a word came from his lips; in silence he sat day andnight, with his eyes cast on the ground, and as though utterly obliviousof the condition in which he was placed. On another bed, three feetfrom the King, sat the officer on guard, while two stalwart Europeansentries, with fixed bayonets, stood on either side. The orders givenwere that on any attempt at a rescue the officer was immediately toshoot the King with his own hand. 

[Illustration: KING OF DELHI AS A PRISONER IN 1857. ]

[From a photograph taken from a pencil sketch by Captain Robles, who wasplaced on guard over him. ]

The old King was brought to trial shortly afterwards at the palace, andfound guilty of complicity in the murders of our country men and women, and was transported beyond the seas, dying in British Burmah before hecould be removed to the Andaman Islands, where, in accordance with hissentence, he was to have remained in imprisonment for the term ofhis natural life. The vicissitudes of fortune, numberless as are theinstances among men of royal birth, can scarcely show anything moresuggestive of the transitoriness of earthly pomp and grandeur thanthe case of the last King of Delhi. Sprung from the line of the greatconqueror Tamerlane, the lineal descendant of the magnanimous Akbar andof Shah Jehan the magnificent, he ended his days as a common felon, farfrom the country of his ancestors, unwept for and unhonoured. 

_September 22_. --Lieutenant Hodson, also on the 22nd, took prisoner, ata place some miles from Delhi, the two eldest sons and the grandsonof the King. These men, more especially the eldest, who wasCommander-in-Chief of the rebel army, had been deeply implicated in themurders of May 11, had urged on the sepoys and populace in their crueldeeds, and were present at the terrible massacre of our people whichtook place in the Chandni Chauk on that day. 

Hodson's orders were precise as to the fate of these blood-thirstyruffians, and though his name has been vilified and his reputationtarnished by so-called humanitarians for the course he adopted inridding the world of the miscreants, he was upheld in the deed by thewhole Delhi army, men in every respect better qualified to form ajudgment in this particular than the sentimental beings at home whodenounced with horror this perfectly justifiable act of speedy andcondign punishment. 

The three Princes were placed in a _gharee_, or native carriage, and, guarded by Hodson's native troopers, were conducted towards the city. Before they entered, the carriage was stopped, and Hodson spoke to hismen of the crimes committed by the prisoners. Then, dismounting from hishorse and opening the door of the _gharee_, he fired two shots from aColt's revolver into each of their hearts. After being driven to theKotwali, or chief magistrate's house, in the centre of the ChandniChauk, on the very spot where our country men and women had suffereddeath, the three bodies were stripped save a rag around the loins, andlaid naked on the stone slabs outside the building. 

Here I saw them that same afternoon; nor can it be said that I or theothers who viewed the lifeless remains felt any pity in our hearts forthe wretches on whom had fallen a most righteous retribution for theircrimes. The eldest was a strong, well-knit man in the prime of life, thenext somewhat younger, while the third was quite a youth not more thantwenty years of age. Each of the Princes had two small bullet-holes overthe region of the heart, the flesh singed by gunpowder, as the shotswere fired close; a cloth covered part of the loins, but they wereotherwise quite naked. There was a guard, I think, of Coke's Riflesstationed at the Kotwali, and there the bodies remained exposed forthree days, and were then buried in dishonoured graves. 

On the 22nd the regiment, or what was left of it, comprising about 180effective rank and file, moved from Ahmed Ali Khan's house to the AjmirGate at the extreme south-western side of the city, a distance of a mileand a half from our former residence. Here we put up in a large serai, with open courtyards in the centre, shaded by high trees, the smallrooms on each side of the building being turned into quarters for themen, the officers taking up their abode in a mosque at the far end. Thechange was far from agreeable; flies and mosquitoes swarmed around us, the ditch outside the walls was filled with pools of stagnant water, anda horrible stench impregnated the air, increasing the sickness amongthe already enfeebled soldiers, and still further reducing our scantynumber. 

_September 23_. --The next day I started with D----, of my regiment, toview the Jama Masjid, or Great Mosque. Nothing can exceed the rich, though chaste, beauty of this glorious structure. The building standsin a large walled enclosure, high broad steps leading up to the mosque, with its three domes of pure white marble and floor of the samematerial, all inlaid with figures. We ascended one of the minarets, about 120 feet high, obtaining a grand view of the imperial city and thesurrounding country. To the south extended the ruins of Ferozebad, orancient Delhi; to the east lay the River Jumna; and to the west andnorth stretched a forest of trees and gardens, among which were seen thesuburbs of the city, the now historic ridge in the far distance hidingthe whole camp from our view. From our elevated position a just estimatecould be formed of the great size of Delhi: the city lay spread outbelow with its vast area of streets, its palaces, mosques, and temples, all silent and deserted, in striking contrast to the din and turmoil ofa few days back. 

Major Coke's corps of Punjab Rifles were quartered in the Masjid--aluxurious place of residence--but there were no worshippers to be foundin the sacred building, and only armed men of an infidel creed were tobe seen. A report spread at this time that it had been decided to blowup the mosque. I cannot vouch for the truth of this statement, and canonly attribute the rumour to a belief that a large ransom would be paidby the Mohammedan population of India for the preservation of theirtemple had the authorities really intended to carry out the project. Itsdestruction would have been an act of vandalism quite at variance withthe character of the British nation, and one which would have broughtdown on us the wrath and contempt of the whole civilized world. 

From the Jama Masjid we wandered through narrow lanes andback-slums--the former resort of the worst characters in the city--tothe Delhi and Turkoman Gates, the streets, as in other parts, beingstrewed with property from the wrecked houses, and wellnigh impassable. We saw parties of Europeans and native soldiers, all eager in thepursuit of plunder, going from house to house, or diving down courts andalleys when they saw us approaching. Interference or remonstrance withthese men would have been useless, if not dangerous; in their excitedstate they were no respecters of persons, and we deemed it the betterjudgment to take no notice of their actions. Dead bodies lay in almostevery street, rotting in the burning sun, and the effluvium wassickening, so that we were glad to make our way back to the Ajmir Gateto a less poisonous atmosphere. 

A movable column of 2, 500 men of all arms started on the morning of the23rd in pursuit of the rebels, taking the direction to Cawnpore. Myregiment had been detailed for this service; and, though numericallyweak, and suffering from sickness, the officers and men hailed withpleasure the approaching departure from Delhi. But, unfortunately forus, the Colonel in command reported us sick and unfit to march. We wereall to a man furious at this; everyone fit for duty was willing, heartand soul, to be sent wherever the exigencies of the war required, andmore especially looked forward with delight to the prospect of servingunder Sir Colin Campbell, in whose brigade the regiment had fought inthe Punjab campaign of 1848-49. Still, the decision of the responsibleofficer was not to be disputed, and so the regiment was kept at Delhi. 

On the 25th I mounted guard with fifty men at the Lahore Gate. Theorders were "on no account to allow soldiers, either European or native, nor camp-followers without passes, to enter or leave the city. " My postwas constantly at the gate, where I examined passes; and whilethus occupied some thirty troopers of the Mooltani Horse--wild, truculent-looking fellows, armed to the teeth--rode up demandingentrance. I explained to them what my orders were, and refusedadmission. Whereupon they commenced talking among themselves, andpresently had the audacity to move towards the sentries with theintention of forcing their way. I was exasperated beyond measure, andturned out the guard, at the same time telling the Mooltanis that, ifthey did not at once retire, I would fire upon them without moreado. They then at once changed their threatening attitude, contentedthemselves with swearing at the _Gore log_, [2] and rode away, sayingthat now Nicholson was dead no one cared for them, and they would returnto their homes. These men had been newly raised, were scarcely underproper discipline, and were certainly horrible-looking bandits andcut-throats--very different from the Sikh and Punjabi Horsemen, who werein manner and discipline all that could be desired. I knew that theMooltanis only desired entrance into the city to participate in thelooting which was still going on; and had they been allowed to indulgein a work for which by their evil countenances they seemed well adapted, collisions would have taken place between them and the English soldiersand others, and bloodshed would have been the result. 

Shortly after the Mooltani Horsemen rode away I saw a party of Goorkhascoming towards the gate. They were strolling along quite unconcernedly, laughing and chatting together, with their hands in their pockets andquite unarmed, not even carrying their favourite _kukri_. Coming towhere I was standing just outside the gate, they laughingly asked me toallow them to take a stroll down the Chandni Chauk and through a part ofthe city for a short time. My orders were imperative, and I told themso; whereat they said they belonged to the Sirmoor battalion--thegallant regiment which, in conjunction with the 60th Rifles, haddefended the right of our position throughout the siege. The corps wasstill stationed at their old quarters at Hindoo Rao's house, and not oneof them up to this time had entered Delhi. Naturally, they said theywished to see the city, promised most faithfully that they would refrainfrom looting, and return to the Lahore Gate in an hour's time. I found Icould not resist the importunities of these brave little fellows, and, trusting to their honour, at last consented, though contrary to orders, to grant them admission. We watched them walking along the ChandniChauk, staring in wonder at all they saw, till lost in the distance. Punctual to the time mentioned the Goorkhas returned, and, thanking mefor my courtesy, made their way to their old quarters on the ridge. 

During my tour on duty on this occasion at the Lahore Gate upwards of500 of the Delhi populace were turned out of the city. They extendedin a long string up the Chandni Chauk, decrepit old men and womenwith groups of young children. It was a pitiable sight, drawing forthexclamations of sympathy even from the rough soldiers on guard. 

It had been brought to the notice of the General that some of the formerinhabitants of Delhi, including sepoys, were in the habit of enteringthe city for the purpose of carrying away valuables, being drawn up byropes held by confederates on the walls, and that many had also escapedin the darkness by the same means. Several captures had already beenmade, a strict watch was ordered to be kept at the several gates, andpatrolling parties to march at intervals outside the walls. The day Iwas on guard at the Lahore Gate Hodson rode up to me from the outside, and said he had seen some natives on the walls close by, evidentlyattempting to escape into the country. I immediately sent round acorporal and four soldiers in the direction indicated, who presentlyreturned with six natives--carrying bundles--whom they had madeprisoners. All men thus captured were sent to the Governor of the cityat the Kotwalli, who disposed of them as he thought fit, having thepower of life and death in these matters. The Governor had the repute ofbeing over-indulgent with regard to the disposal of the captives, beingconsidered too merciful in his treatment of men who, for aught he knew, had forfeited their lives in joining the armed rebellion against ourauthority. 

A striking instance of the feeling which animated officers and men inthe troublous times took place some time afterwards at Delhi. An officerof my regiment was on guard at the Ajmir Gate, and on one occasion sentto the Governor some men whom he had captured while they were in theact of escaping from the city. These men were released; but on a secondoccasion three men were taken, and the officer, deeming it useless toforward them for punishment to the usual authority, called out a file ofhis soldiers, placed the prisoners in the ditch outside the AjmirGate, shot them, and then, digging a hole, buried them at the place ofexecution. 

For a long period after the capture of Delhi executions by hangingwere of common occurrence in the city, and the hands of the oldprovost-sergeant were full. Disguised sepoys and inhabitants takenwith arms in their possession had short shrift, and were at onceconsigned to the gallows, a batch of ten one day suffering deathopposite the Kotwali. 

In the beginning of October two more reputed sons of the old King wereshot by sentence of court-martial. They had commanded regiments ofthe rebel army, and were foremost in the revolt, even joining in themassacre of our people. The 60th Rifles and some Goorkhas formedthe firing party, and took, strange to say, such bad aim that theprovost-sergeant had to finish the work by shooting each culprit witha pistol. Nothing could have been more ill-favoured and dirty than thewretched victims; but they met their fate in silence and with the mostdogged composure. 

_September 28_. --Accompanied by our Adjutant and some other officers, Irode out to Taliwarra and Kishenganj on September 28. These suburbs werea mass of ruins, but enough was left intact to show the immense strengthof the enemy's position at the former place. Batteries had been erectedat every available spot, strongly fortified and entrenched, and one inparticular which had raked the right of our position was perfect inevery detail, and was guarded by a ditch, or rather _nallah_, forty feetdeep. 

We passed through the large caravanserai, the scene of the conflictduring the memorable sortie of July 9, and when in the course of ourinspection in the enclosure a ludicrous event occurred. An officer whohad been shot through the leg on that day, recognizing the place wherehe had received his wound, dismounted from his horse, and stood on thevery spot. He was in the act of explaining events, and describing hissensations when shot, when suddenly he made a jump in the air, utteringa cry of pain, and commenced rubbing his legs, first one and then theother. We burst into laughter at the antics of our friend, who, weimagined, had been seized with a fit of madness quite at variance withhis usual quiet demeanour, and jokingly asked him what was the matter. Still writhing with pain, and engaged in his involuntary saltatoryexercise, he pointed to a swarm of wasps which, roused from their nest, on which he had been standing, covered his lower extremities, and hadmade their way inside his pantaloons, stinging him on both legs, andcrawling up his body. The pain must have been intense, and fullyaccounted for his gymnastics and frantic efforts to crush the insects. It was some days before he recovered from the wounds he had received, far more painful--as he averred--than the enemy's bullet, I intimatedat the time to my friend that the wasps probably were the ghosts ofthe sepoys who had been killed in the serai, their bodies, by thetransmigration of souls, having taken the shape of these malignantinsects in order to wreak vengeance on their destroyers. He, however, did not seem to relish my interpretation of this very singular event, and, in fact, was inclined to resent what he called my ill-timedjesting; but the story spread, and our poor friend became for some timeafterwards the butt and laughing-stock of the regiment. 

From Kishenganj we rode through the Sabzi Mandi Gardens, visiting ourold pickets there and at the Crow's Nest, and then proceeded up theslope of the ridge to Hindoo Rao's house. This was still garrisoned bythe Sirmoor battalion of Goorkhas, some of whom escorted us round theplace, pointing out the different positions they had so gallantlydefended. The house was knocked to pieces, the walls showing evidence ofthe enemy's fire, and revealing to us the truth of the saying in campthat these hardy little fellows, with the 60th Rifles, during more thanthree months, had been constantly exposed night and day to shot andshell, there not being a single part of their quarters where completeshelter could be found. 

The Observatory, close to Hindoo Rao's house, had also felt the effectof the enemy's shot, while midway between the Observatory and theFlagstaff Tower, the Mosque--the only other building on the ridge--wasalso in ruins. Our batteries, nine in number, lay in a comparativelysmall compass, extending about three-quarters of a mile from the Crow'sNest in the right rear to Wilson's battery opposite the Observatory. Therest of the ridge was unprotected by guns in position, it being at sogreat a distance from the city and also free from the enemy's attacks;the only danger and annoyance arose from occasional shells, whichreached the camp and exploded amongst the tents, from round-shot andfrom rocket fire. 

Passing by the Flagstaff Tower, we rode through the old camp, nowdesolate and silent, visiting the graves of our poor fellows at thecemetery, and then, retracing our steps, entered Delhi by the KashmirGate, and returned to our quarters. 

Cholera still continued its ravages among the small number of troopsleft in Delhi. The reaction from a life of strife and excitement to thedull existence we were now leading had its effects on the men, and weeach day lamented more and more that we had not gone with the MovableColumn, leaving the noisome smells, the increasing sickness, and themonotony of Delhi behind. Two thousand sick and wounded had been movedinto the Fort of Selimgarh, where the pure air and open situation of theplace soon made a marked change in the number of invalids: but diseasewas rife among the regiments quartered in the city, and convalescentsfrom Selimgarh were soon replaced by men suffering from cholera andfever ague. 

In the beginning of October, to our intense delight, we moved from theAjmir Gate, that sink of corruption, and took up our quarters in themagazine. The officers here occupied a fine roomy building of twostories, while the men were housed in comfortable sheds round theenclosure. We still furnished guards at the Ajmir and Lahore Gates, theterm of duty, through paucity of men for relief, extending over threedays. The officer on guard at the former gate visited detachments andsentries at the "Delhi" and "Turkoman" Gates, a distance of a mile anda half through streets in which dead bodies in the last stage ofdecomposition were still lying. While one day engaged on this duty, Ipassed a carcass on which some pariah dogs were making a meal. Disgustedat the sight, and weak in stomach from the putrid air, I returned tomy tent at the Ajmir Gate at the time when my servant arrived with mydinner from the magazine. I asked him what he had brought me, and wasanswered, "Liver and bacon. " The nauseating sight I had just witnessedrecurred to my memory, visions of diseased and putrid livers rose beforemy view, and, unable to control myself, I was seized with a fit ofsickness which prostrated me for some time after. 

Nothing of importance occurred during the month of October. We settledinto a very quiet life at the magazine, varied by eternal guard-mountingat the different gates of the city and regimental drill. My health hadbeen failing for some time, and, now that there seemed no immediateprospect of employment on active service, I gladly acquiesced in thedoctor's advice that I should proceed to Umballah on sick leave. 

_November 8_. --Accordingly I left Delhi on November 8, my destinationbeing Umballah, a station in the Cis-Sutlej provinces. A _palki ghari_, or Indian carriage, drawn by two horses, awaited me that evening atSelimgarh, and, bidding adieu to our good doctor, who had nursed me withunremitting attention during my sickness, I entered the carriage. Just before starting, an officer of my regiment handed me twodouble-barrelled pistols--revolvers were at a premium in thosedays--saying they might possibly come in useful during my journey, andI little thought at the time that their services would be brought intorequisition. 

The country around Delhi swarmed with _goojars_, the generic name forprofessional thieves, who inhabited the numerous villages and leviedblackmail on travellers, though seldom interfering with Europeans. Mybaggage, consisting of two _petarahs_ (native leather trunks) containinguniform and clothing, was deposited on the roof of the vehicle undercharge of my bearer, but the loot I had acquired, I had safely stowed ina despatch-box, which was placed under my pillow in the interior of thecarriage. A bed, comfortably arranged, occupied the seats, and on this Ilay down, closing the doors of the _ghari_ when night came on. 

Some two stages from Delhi, after changing horses and proceeding on thejourney along the pucka road, I fell into a doze, and at last into asound sleep. From this I was rudely awakened by shouts of "Chor! chor!"(Thief! thief!) from my bearer and the native coachman. Starting up, I seized the pistols, and opening the doors of the _ghari_, saw, as Ifancied, some forms disappearing in the darkness at the side of theroad. I fired two barrels in the direction and pursued for somedistance, but finding that my shots had not taken effect, and fearful oflosing my way--for the night was pitch-dark--I returned to the carriage. My bearer then told me that some robbers had climbed up the back of the_ghari_, taken the two _petarahs_ between which he was lying, and madeoff into the country. We had been driving at the usual pace, about sixmiles an hour, and it proves the practised skill and agility of the_goojars_, who, with such ease, had abstracted the boxes from under thevery nose of my servant. There was nothing for it but to continue myjourney regretting the loss of my personal effects, but still fortunatein one respect--that the loot was safe under my pillow. 

_November 9_. --At the next stage I questioned the horse-keeper, acquainting him with the robbery, and learned that a village inhabitedby _goojars_ lay off the road not far from the place where the robberyhad been perpetrated. In the morning I arrived at the civil stationof Karnal, and drove to the residence of the Commissioner, to whom Ireported my loss, giving the name of the village where it had occurred. He told me to make out a valuation of the things stolen and to send itto him on the first opportunity. This I did on reaching Umballah, fixingthe value of the different articles in the boxes at 250 rupees. A monthafterwards, when the affair had almost faded from my memory, I receiveda letter from the Commissioner stating that he had visited the villagenear the spot where the robbery had taken place. The headman had beensummoned to his presence, and warned that, unless the thieves weregiven up and the boxes returned with their contents intact, he wouldconfiscate a certain number of cattle, and sell the same to indemnifyme for the losses I had sustained. These orders being unfulfilled, thecattle were sold, and an order for 250 rupees was enclosed to me in theletter. The boxes, quite empty, with the exception of my journals, werefound afterwards at the bottom of a well and were forwarded to Umballah. The ink had run in the journals from immersion in the water, but thewriting was little defaced, and these papers--to me the most preciouspart of my luggage--I was glad to recover. 

The change to Umballah was at first beneficial, but later on I suffereda relapse; and after appearing before a medical board, was granted ayear's leave to England. 

From Umballah I journeyed to Ferozepore, where I met several of mybrother-officers and others who, like myself, had been invalided home. 

_January 10, 1858_. --After a short stay there--the time beingprincipally taken up with chartering boats and providing necessariesfor the passage down the river--we all, to the number of about fiftypersons, occupying twenty-two boats, which had to be specially fitted upwith straw-built houses with sloping roofs, set off on January 10, 1858, under the protection of a guard of Sikhs, and, after what may on thewhole be regarded as a pleasant trip, reached Tattah on February 11. Thence I went on to Karachi and Bombay and Marseilles, and, after apleasant tour on the Continent of Europe, arrived in the Old Country inMay, 1858, after an absence of rather more than six years. 

[Illustration: "HOMEWARD, " NEAR JERRICK, ON THE INDUS]

[Footnote 1: Since the above was written, especial honour has been shownto those who participated in the hardships and glories of the campaignby His Majesty King Edward VII. , who received the surviving officers ata levee at St. James's Palace on June 3, 1907. 

A public dinner was also given by the proprietors of the _DailyTelegraph_ in the Albert Hall on December 23 of the same year to all thesurviving veterans who had taken part in the suppression of the Mutinyin 1857. ]

[Footnote 2: White people. ]

CHAPTER VI

THE RICHES OF DELHI

The riches of the city of Delhi and the opulence of its Princes andmerchants had been celebrated in Hindostan from time immemorial. Forages it had been the capital of an empire extending from the snows ofthe Himalayas to Cape Comorin; and to Delhi, as to a centre, gravitatedthe wealth of the richest country in the world. Fabulous reports hadreached us of the booty carried away to distant regions by the numerouswarriors who burst like a torrent over Hindostan, making that city thegoal of their conquests and the scene of their predatory forays. Duringthe nineteenth century Delhi, since its capture by Lord Lake in 1803, had remained in the hands of the British, the city owing a nominalallegiance to the King, who, to all intents and purposes a Stateprisoner, was a pensioner of our Government up to 1857, holding a Court(consisting for the most part of wretched dependents and ragamuffins) inthe Palace of the Great Mogul. 

The quiet which reigned during that period had a salutary effect on theprosperity of Delhi; its merchants and storekeepers, trading withthe inhabitants of the richly-cultivated Dooab and with more distantcountries, became rich and prosperous, accumulating vast treasures, while the people, with the instinct of a penurious race, converted theirready-money into jewels and gold and silver ornaments, and safely stowedthem away in hidden receptacles within their houses. 

The numerous races of India--and notably the Sikhs--burning for anopportunity to plunder the imperial city, cast longing eyes towardsthese hidden treasures, the fame of which had spread far and wide; andto this desire may be attributed, as much as any other reason, thewillingness of that warlike people to help us during the Mutiny. 

While the siege was progressing, even at a time when clouded withanxiety as to the future, men's minds were full of the uncertain issueof the fight; the thoughts of all in camp turned involuntarily to therich harvest awaiting the army should Delhi fall into our hands. To allof us (putting aside the morality of the question), the loot of thecity was to be a fitting recompense for the toils and privations we hadundergone; nor did the questionable character of the transaction weighfor one moment with us against the recognized military law--"that a citytaken by assault belonged as prize to the conquerors. " During the actualbombardment, when the end seemed at hand, this subject of prize was thetopic of conversation among both officers and men; and soon we learntwith satisfaction that the General in command, after consulting withothers in authority, had settled on the course to be pursued. 

On September 7 a notice appeared in "orders" in which General Wilsonthanked the army for the courage and devotion displayed during the longmonths of the siege. He recapitulated the dangers through which theforce had passed, and looked forward hopefully to the future when, Providence favouring us, a few short days would see the enemy'sstronghold pass into our hands. Instructions the most peremptory werelaid down as to the absolute necessity for the troops keeping welltogether on the day of assault, and not dispersing in scattered bandsor alone through the streets of the city in pursuit of plunder. Greatdanger and possible annihilation of the small army would result werethese precautions overlooked, rendering the force liable to be cut upin detail by the large bodies of rebels then occupying the streets andhouses of Delhi. Lastly, as a reward and incentive to all engaged, theGeneral gave his word, promising that all property captured in the citywould be placed in one common fund, to be distributed as prize accordingto the rules of war in such cases. The commanding officer, as well asall in the army, knew that it would be impossible to prevent lootingaltogether, but it was hoped that the above order would have a goodeffect by urging on the soldiers, for their welfare and advantage, thenecessity of obeying the instructions therein laid down. 

This order, as I have said, appeared on September 7; nor, from thepromises given, had any of us the slightest doubt but that itsprovisions with regard to prize-money would be carried into effect indue course. Delhi was taken, but as time passed by, and months elapsedwithout any notification on the subject being received from the SupremeGovernment, the army began to feel anxious, and murmurs arose as to thenon-fulfilment of the pledge given by General Wilson. At length, at theend of the year, the Governor-General, with the advice of his ExecutiveCouncil, promulgated his decision that there was an objection to thetroops receiving the Delhi prize-money, and in lieu thereof granted as arecompense for their arduous labours and patient endurance in the fieldthe "magnificent" sum of six months' batta. 

Lord Canning, his Council and law advisers, all civilians sittingquietly at Calcutta, living in ease and comfort far from the dangers ofwar, thought, forsooth, that the Delhi army, struggling for existencefor months, fighting to uphold British rule in India--nay, for the verylives and safety of these civilian judges--and at last victorious in thecontest, would rest content with their decision. 

It is needless to say that this roused a storm of indignation not onlyamongst the Delhi force, but throughout the British army in India--aburst of resentment which, reaching the Governor-General, made him pauseand reconsider his ill-timed and unjust decision. Suffice it to say thatthe order was rescinded, and that the prize-money, in addition to sixmonths' batta, was granted to all engaged. 

The day that the news of the first decision of the Government arrived atDelhi, when all at that place were full of the wrong done to the army, aprivate soldier of the 60th Rifles, inspired by the most exquisite senseof humour as well as of bitter satire, wrote upon the walls of thepalace where his regiment was quartered the following appropriatesentence: "Delhi taken and India saved for 36 rupees 10 annas. " Itis said that the Governor-General demanded the name of this waggishsoldier, with the intention that he might receive punishment for hisdaring effrontery; but it is needless to say that the author of the jokeremained unknown save to a few of his comrades; and the great ruler ofHindostan was forced to rest content and ponder over the hidden sarcasmand bitter irony addressed to one in his exalted position. 

The army was further promised by the Government 5 per cent, on the wholeamount of the prize-money till the amount should be paid. This, duringthe many years which elapsed before the money was distributed, would have reached a large sum; but faith was broken and the sumrepudiated--another instance of want of gratitude to soldiers who, looked to maintain their country's honour in time of war, are in peace, and when danger is at an end, soon forgotten. So prolonged, also, wasthe delay in payment of the prize-money that, I recollect, the Times, inreference to this subject about 1860 or 1861, had a leading article inits columns recommending the Delhi army to bring an action against theGovernment for the payment of the prize. Such action, of course, wouldhave been without precedent, but it showed the feeling of many in thecountry when the leading journal thought right to draw attention to thesubject with a view to the adjustment of the army's rightful claim. 

To return to General Wilson's order of September 7. Notices werecirculated throughout the camp in every brigade and regiment, calling onthe troops to elect prize agents for gathering and receiving prize afterthe capture of the city. These prize agents, therefore, were selectedby the army, one for the general and field officers, the second for theQueen's service of all ranks below that of Major, and the third for thecompany's army. The officers appointed, including Captain Fagan, andafter his death Doctor Innes, Sir Edward Campbell, of the 60th Rifles, and Captain Wriford, of the 1st Bengal Fusiliers, were all most popularmen, and considered in every way fit for the very important duties theyhad to perform. 

On September 14, the day of assault, till the 20th, when Delhi wascompletely in our possession, much looting took place in the city. Ourtroops, both European and native, and especially the Sikhs, enteredhouses during those days and managed to secrete about their personsarticles of value. To my certain knowledge, also, many soldiers of theEnglish regiments got possession of jewellery and gold ornaments takenfrom the bodies of the slain sepoys and city inhabitants, and I wasshown by men of my regiment strings of pearls and gold mohurs which hadfallen into their hands. 

On the day of assault we were much amused, during a slight cessation ofthe conflict, by one of our men rushing up to a group of officers in astate of great excitement, with the news that there was a buggy with twohorses standing at the corner of a street close by. He offered the prizeto anyone who would give him a bottle of rum; but in the then state ofaffairs no one felt inclined to burden himself with such a luxury, andthe poor fellow went away much disappointed. Whether he succeeded indisposing of the prize I don't know; but when things quieted down, andthe regiment was stationed in comfortable quarters, one of our officers, noted for his constant impecuniosity, appeared one day driving a buggyand two horses, the acquisition of which always remained a secret; norwould he, on being questioned, throw any light on the matter. 

That many of the private soldiers of my regiment succeeded in acquiringa great quantity of valuable plunder was fully demonstrated soon afterour arrival in England. An unusual number of non-commissioned officersand men bought their discharge, having during three years keptpossession of the plunder acquired at Delhi awaiting a favourableopportunity for the sale of the articles. Many jewellers' shops inthe town in which we were quartered exposed for sale in the windowsornaments and trinkets of unmistakable Eastern workmanship, which, oninquiry, we were told had been bought from the men. 

It would have been contrary to human nature, and utterly at variancewith the predatory instinct, had the soldiers failed to take advantageof the facilities for plunder which surrounded them on every side; norcould it be expected that a man, after possessing himself of valuables, would at once, or on the first favourable opportunity, deliver uphis booty to the properly-constituted authorities. This much may beconceded, and it will therefore not be a subject of wonder that allranks of the Delhi Force, with but few exceptions, availed themselvesof the prize within their reach, and appropriated to their own use muchtreasure which ought to have gone towards swelling the general fund. 

One officer in command of a native regiment quartered his corps in ahouse which formerly belonged to one of the richest Princes in the cityof Delhi. The place was full of riches of every kind, and it was thepopular belief at the time throughout the army that the officer inquestion succeeded in obtaining two lakhs of rupees. Rumour also saidthat a court of inquiry would be held to investigate the truth orotherwise of this report, but, if such had been contemplated, it fell tothe ground; nor was any attempt made to induce the officer to disgorgehis plunder. I paid a visit to this mansion some time afterwards, andcan vouch for the thorough ransacking the place had received. Every roomin the house had been pillaged, excavations had been made in the floors, and empty boxes lay in every direction. 

Other cases similar to that just mentioned were known to us at thetime, in which sums of money were appropriated only a little smaller inamount, while of those which reached the value of £100 their name islegion. Many men also there were who, at first swayed by moral scruples, as well as feeling reluctant to disobey the order which had been issued, refrained from looting on their own account; but when they saw thatofficers, even of the higher ranks, took possession of plunder, thesescruples were cast to the winds--it was "every man for himself, and thed--- l take the hindmost, " and a general desire was evinced for each toenrich himself with the prize lying at his feet. 

Often, when wandering through the city in pursuit of plunder, I, incompany with others, came across officers engaged in the same quest asourselves. These rencontres were most amusing, giving rise to mutualinterrogations and many jokes, each party affirming that looting was notthe object of their perambulations, but that they were only inspectingthe houses out of a feeling of curiosity. Up to this time I had notsucceeded in finding any articles of value, nor had I the remotest ideathat my acquaintance with a certain officer in the employ of the prizeagents would put me in the way of acquiring a fair amount of the loot ofDelhi. A few silver ornaments and a small bag of sicca rupees were allthat I had so far obtained, and I naturally felt desirous of increasingmy store, more especially when it was well known that many officers, more fortunate and less scrupulous, had already made themselves mastersof large quantities of valuable plunder. 

The accumulation of prize by the agents began shortly after Delhi wastaken. At first the articles obtained were of little worth, comprisingchiefly wearing apparel of every description and household goods. Soon, however, more costly effects were found by the searchers, and in a veryshort time the rooms of the prize agents were filled with treasures ofevery kind--jewellery and precious stones, diamonds, rubies, emeraldsand pearls without number, from those as large as hen's eggs to thesmall species used for necklaces; gold ornaments, chains of the mostbeautiful workmanship, bracelets and bangles all of solid metal. Therewere heaps, also, of the small, thick, native coin known as gold mohurs, thousands of which were accumulated by the prize agents and helped mostmaterially to swell the amount. I visited one room, the long tablein which literally groaned with the riches of "Ormuz and of Ind"--adazzling sight to the eye, and one calculated to raise the spiritof greed in my breast to possess myself of some of the treasures sotemptingly exposed to view. When quiet returned, and the inhabitants ofthe city began to flock back to their former homes, whole streets, inwhich no doubt treasure had been concealed and had escaped the search ofthe prize agents, were sold to the people for sums ranging from 5, 000 to50, 000 rupees. All this helped to increase the prize to a sum whichwas variously estimated at from half to three-quarters of a millionsterling; and even then it was asserted that only a portion of the vastwealth of Delhi had been found. 

As far as I know, the Government, when distributing the prize-money intwo installments--in 1862 and again in 1865--gave no account of thetotal amount which had been collected. The private soldier's share wasreckoned as the unit, value about £17, increasing according to the payof the different ranks--the Ensign five shares, Lieutenant six and ahalf, Captain eleven and a half, and so in proportion among the highergrade of officers, while that of the Commander-in-Chief amounted toone-sixteenth of the whole--an immense sum. There were, of course, manyexaggerations as to how much each rank would receive as its share, andthere were many heart-burnings also when the true amount became known. The sum had dwindled down to less than one-third of what we expected, and not a few expressed openly their conviction that some tamperinghad taken place with regard to the distribution. This can hardly bebelieved, though it has always been a notorious fact that the Governmentare inclined to treat the claims of those who fight their battles withneglect, and in one particular at least, by repudiating the 5 per cent, promised till the Delhi prize-money was paid, they acted up to theirusual unjust policy, and gave occasions for the complaints which wereraised at the time. 

I will now proceed to give an account of my experience when acting as anassistant to an officer who was accredited by the prize agents with apermit to search for plunder. This officer, an old friend of mine, askedme to accompany him on his expeditions, saying also that he had noobjection to my helping myself in moderation to part of the loot whichwe might happen to find. Carrying with us the necessary tools, such ashammers, spades, and pickaxes, we each day started--accompanied bytwo coolies--on our plundering excursions. For some days we were veryunsuccessful, and for nearly a week only managed to gather togetherand transmit to the agents articles of little value. But, soon gainingexperience from continued practice, and taking note of the differenthouses in which there was a likelihood of finding prize, we settleddown to a systematic course of search, which in the end proved highlyremunerative. Scarcely anything of value was found lying about thedifferent rooms; these had been already gutted and the contentsdestroyed by the soldiers, both European and native, who, since the dayof assault, had roamed about the city. At the time we began our searchall was comparatively quiet, and during our operations, such was thevast extent of the city and so numerous the buildings, that only on twoor three occasions were we interrupted by parties engaged in the samequest as ourselves. 

My companion was a good Hindustani scholar, and taking advantage of hisproficiency in the language, he made a point of interviewing severalnatives of the city, who, in the capacity of workmen in differenttrades, were allowed in Delhi, and were employed in their severaloccupations. From one of these, a mason and builder, N--receivedinformation that a large quantity of treasure was concealed in the houseof a former rich resident. This man had helped to secrete the hoard, andon the promise of a small reward was willing to help us in unearthingthe booty. 

One morning in the beginning of October, attended by the mason, andcarrying the necessary implements, we were taken to the house inquestion. This was a large building with a courtyard in the centre, therooms of which showed the remains of luxury and wealth, but, as usual, had been despoiled by the plunderers of our army. Every article wasscattered about in dire confusion; there were piles of clothing andbedding; rich and ornamental stuffs were torn to pieces, and thehousehold furniture, broken up, was strewn about the courtyard. Ourguide took us to a small room, about 80 feet square--in fact, it was thecloset of the establishment--the walls of which were whitewashed, thefloor being covered with a hard cement. Here, we were told, the treasurewas concealed under the flooring of the room, and we lost no time incommencing operations, the mason assisting us. Picking through thecement, we came on a large flagstone, which we lifted out of the cavity. Then we dug a hole about 3 feet square, and the same depth in the looseearth, disclosing the mouth of a large earthenware _gharra_, or jar. Loosening the soil all around, we attempted to raise the jar out of theground, but all our efforts were unavailing--its great weight preventingus from lifting it one inch out of the bed. Then, trembling withexcitement, for we felt sure that a rich display would greet our eyes, we began slowly to remove each article from the _gharra_, and place iton the floor of the room. A heavy bag lying at the mouth of the jarwas first taken out, and on opening it, and afterwards counting itscontents, we found that it contained 700 native gold mohurs, worthnearly £1, 200. Then came dozens of gold bangles, or anklets, of puremetal, such as those worn by dancing-girls. We were fairly bewildered atthe sight, our hands trembling and our eyes ablaze with excitement, forsuch an amount of pure gold as that already discovered we had never seenbefore. But the treasure was not yet half exhausted. The jar seemed aperfect mine of wealth--gold chains, plain and of filigree workmanship, each worth from £10 to £30; ornaments of the same metal of every sortof design, and executed in a style for which the Delhi jewellers arecelebrated all over India. Then came small silver caskets filled withpearls, together to the number of more than 200, each worth from £3 to£4, pierced for stringing. Others, containing small diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, and the greatest prize of all--reclining in a casket byitself--a large diamond, which was sold afterwards by the prize agentsfor £1, 000. There were many other articles of value besides those I havementioned--gold rings and tiaras inlaid with precious stones, nose-ringsof the kind worn by women through the nostrils, earrings, bracelets, andnecklaces of small pearls without number. 

All these various articles we spread out on the floor of the room, examining each again and again, and with avaricious thoughts intent, lamenting that we were not allowed to appropriate what would have beento us a fortune. Truly such a temptation to enrich themselves withoutfear of detection was never till this occasion set before twoimpecunious subalterns of the British Army. Here, spread out before us, lay loot to the value of thousands of pounds, all our own were we tofollow the example of some who had already feathered their nests withmuch larger amounts, defying those in authority to take the plunder fromthem. However, such a course could not be entertained for one moment, and, moreover, were we to possess ourselves of all the contents ofthe jar, there was no secure place of concealment to be found, andunpleasant inquiries and prying eyes would soon have revealed to theworld our abduction of the booty. 

It is impossible to do more than guess at the value of the plunderacquired on this day. My friend received a reward for the find; as formyself, I will leave it to my readers whether it was possible for weakhuman nature to resist the temptation of carrying away some few mementosfrom this miscellaneous collection of treasure-trove. To tell thetruth, I must confess that in after times my only regret was that I hadfoolishly let slip an opportunity of enriching myself which could neverrecur. We agreed--and in this we were borne out by the prize agent--that£7, 000 was the lowest sum at which to compute the loot we had found. 

It was my invariable custom to wear as a kammerband or girdle folds ofmuslin round my waist for the protection of the liver and spleen, and inthis I placed the articles I carried away. My friend procured a smallcart, in which he deposited the loot and drove to the house of one ofthe agents, while I, encumbered as I was, with difficulty mounted myhorse and rode towards the magazine. I could not but feel nervous andabashed when thinking of the riches concealed about my person, at lastworking myself up to such a pitch of excitement that I imagined all Imet were cognizant of my good fortune; and on entering the gates of themagazine, I fancied I heard one of our men say to his comrade, "Well!that fellow, at any rate, has plenty of loot about him. "

Our next great find, though by no means so lucrative as the first, brought a large accession to the prize fund. It occurred to me, throughcalling to recollection the story of the treasures concealed in theHindoo idol at Somnath which was broken open by Sultan Mahmoud in theeleventh century, that possibly the same kind of receptacle mightdisclose a like prize, though on a smaller scale, among the numeroustemples scattered through the city of Delhi. 

Acting on this idea, we one day entered a small Hindoo temple situatednot far from the Chandni Chauk. The shrine was gaudily decorated; butafter a prolonged search, we found nothing of any value. A hideous idolstood on a raised structure in the centre of the building, and was soondemolished in iconoclastic style with our hammers. The base of the idolwas formed of _chunam_ (a kind of cement), and into this we dug withour small pickaxes. Soon a ringing sound from a blow disclosed a largesilver casket imbedded in the _chunam_, and this, after some littletrouble, we extricated from its position. Forcing the casket open, oursight was regaled by a brilliant show of jewels and gold--diamonds, rubies, and emeralds--two of the latter species being uncut, but ofgreat size, pearls larger than any we had yet seen, and gold ornamentsof every description, chains, bracelets, bangles, and a few gold mohurs. We were quite alone in the temple, and after feasting our eyes on thetreasures and selecting a few objects for our own benefit, N---- tookthe casket to the prize agent, telling him where we had found it, andrecommending a search in such localities, which recommendation, nodoubt, was carried into effect among other Hindoo temples in the city. 

When first entering a house during our search, we at once made ourselvesacquainted with the creed of its former inhabitants. In this there wasno difficulty--Korans lying about the floor denoted that the occupantshad been Mussulmans, while many indications, such as idols, a differentarrangement of the furniture, and other signs with which we becameconversant, proved the influence of the rival Hindoo race. There was avery cogent reason for this investigation on our part--the Mohammedansinvariably, in secreting their valuables, placed them in the groundunder the floors of their houses, the Hindoos, on the other hand, alwayshid them in receptacles in the walls of the buildings. Armed with thisknowledge, we used to sound either the floors or the walls of each houseaccording as the place belonged to one or the other creed; nor in onesingle instance, as far as I can remember, were we at fault in ourdiagnosis. 

A favourite hiding-place for valuables was behind the staircase, thetreasure being concealed in a sort of vault built around with bricks andcement. On one occasion, in the house of a money-changer, we demolisheda secret place of this kind and discovered four large bags filledwith some heavy metal. Feeling convinced we should find that the bagscontained at the least rupees, we opened one, and to our infinitedisgust saw that the contents consisted of copper pieces called pice, ofwhich there were many thousands; the bags, however, were taken to theprize agents, but I need scarcely say our hands on that day at leastwere not soiled by appropriating a portion of the plunder. 

On several occasions we succeeded in finding large stores of money, chiefly sicca or native rupees, while in the houses of Hindoos, inportions of the walls which sounded hollow under the blow of the hammer, we, after making a hole sufficiently large for the passage of a hand, constantly brought to light large stores of silver ornaments, consistingof chains, bracelets, etc. , amounting in the aggregate to a barrowful. Few houses there were that did not furnish, after a diligent searcheither in the floors or walls, some articles of value; but on only oneoccasion after the successful ventures in the two first cases was theamount of loot in any way comparable to that which we obtained on thosedays. 

In a very secluded part of the city, in a large house, surrounded bywretched tenements inhabited by the lowest class, we opened a door, andto our amazement entered a room furnished in the European fashion. Thisalso had not escaped the marauding and destructive hands of parties ofplunderers; the furniture was smashed, and the contents of the roomstrewn about the floor. There were English chairs, curtains, ottomanscovered with antimacassars, sofas and broken mirrors, and in the cornera small piano, ruined and destroyed. The house had evidently belongedto some rich native, but who had been the occupant of this boudoir? forsuch it was--a miniature drawing-room filled with European luxuries, notexcepting books and copies of music. Articles of a lady's apparel alsolay about, torn in shreds, vases were on the mantelpiece, as well asa small box filled with English fancy needlework. We came to theconclusion that the mistress of this abode must have been a Eurasianlady, probably one of the zenana of the master of the house, who duringthe exodus from the city had fled with, or been forcibly carried awayby, her protector. 

A dismal mishap occurred to me in this room. Choosing acomfortable-looking ottoman, I sat down, little dreaming that I hadfallen into a trap which would occasion much laughter among my friendsfor days to come. Feeling a strange moist sensation in a certain portionof my body, I jumped up from the seat, to find, to my horror, that I hadplumped down on a quantity of ghee, or clarified butter. A jar of gheewas lying on the floor, and a portion of this horrible mess had beenspilt on the seat of the ottoman. I was dressed in white trousers andjacket of the same material, and found, to my intense disgust, that theghee had left a large patch of colour which no amount of rubbing woulderadicate. We were far from our quarters, it was broad daylight, and, to my mortification, I was compelled to walk thus branded through thestreets of the city, the laughing-stock of those who saw the plight Iwas in. 

Delhi was celebrated for miniature paintings done on talc, hundreds ofwhich were found at this time. Some were of rare workmanship, portraitsof beautiful women and drawings of celebrated buildings, all executedin a style of art peculiar to the craftsmen of that place. We werefortunate, during our search, in coming across the house of one ofthese artists and disinterring from its concealment a box full of thesepaintings. They afterwards sold at a good price, and I possessed myselfof some twenty of the most beautiful, comprising portraits of ZeenatMahal, the favourite wife of the King, other ladies of the zenana, andpictures of the Taj and Jama Masjid, besides other mosques throughoutIndia. These oval-shaped miniatures mounted in gold formed mostacceptable souvenirs of the city of Delhi, and one in particular, containing the portrait of a lovely Eastern face with head-dress andtiara of diamonds, and strings of pearls round the neck, I was offered£20 for after it had been set in gold by a jeweller at Plymouth. InLondon, in 1858, there was a great demand for gold ornaments andjewellery from Delhi, so much so that a noted goldsmith offered methe highest price for articles of that description; nor would he atfirst--till convinced--accept my assurance that I had parted with all myDelhi loot before leaving India. 

We were occupied for nearly three weeks in our quest for plunder, engaged in the exciting work almost every day, and seldom failing tofind some articles of value. Our last adventure in that line deservesa detailed description, for though the nature of the loot obtained wassuch that it was useless to appropriate for our own use any of the goodsfound, still, the value of the plunder increased to a large extent theDelhi prize-money. 

We had noticed in the room of the agents piles of kincob, or cloth ofgold, worth I fear to say how many rupees a yard. The manufacture ofthis material was carried on to a great extent in Delhi, there beingmuch demand for the rich and costly fabric among the Princes and noblesof Hindostan. Hitherto in our ramblings through the houses we had onlycome across a few pieces of this gold brocade; but as luck would haveit, on the last day in which I joined N---- in his duties he hadreceived information from a native that a large store of kincob wasconcealed in the house of a merchant who had dealt in that material. 

The man guided us to the house in question; but after searching in everyimaginable place, no signs of the gold cloth could be found. From thename of the merchant and certain other well-known indications we feltconvinced that his goods were concealed underground, and we commencedtapping the floor of the largest room with our hammers. Presently, inthe very centre of the apartment, there came a hollow sound, and diggingdown about a foot, we found a trap-door. This was lifted, disclosinga wooden staircase leading down to what seemed to us an apartmentconcealed in Cimmerian darkness. Lighting the wax candles we alwayscarried about with us, we for some distance descended the steps whichseemed to lead into the bowels of the earth. The room turned out to beabout twenty feet square and ten feet high, and ranged around, piled oneon top of the other, were scores of large boxes. One of these we opened, and found it to contain kincob of the rarest kind; others that welooked into were full of the same gorgeous material, and we came to theconclusion that here, spread about, there was a treasure the value ofwhich amounted to a lakh of rupees. Four large carts were loaded withthe boxes and taken to the prize agents, the contents selling afterwardsfor a very large sum. 

And thus ended in a most successful find my connection with the loot ofDelhi. Though many years have elapsed, the events of those three weeksseem as vivid in my memory as though they had happened yesterday--thebrightness of the jewels, the dazzling gold, the nerves wrought to thehighest pitch of tension while waiting in eager expectation for theresult of a search. These episodes of my life appear more like afairytale or a legend of the "Arabian Nights" than true history andsober reality. What opportunities of accumulating a small fortune werethrown in my way! The treasure lay at my feet, only wanting to be pickedup, and many will say that I was a fool not to take advantage of theprize! I can, however, certainly aver that I showed great moderation inpossessing myself of only a small portion of the plunder--the amount Iappropriated was but an infinitesimal part of the Delhi prize money. It is very unlikely that Delhi or any other rich city in India willbe given over to sack and pillage, during this generation, but theremembrance of the days of 1857, and of the traditional wealth ofthe country, still exists amongst the nations of the East, and onlyrecently, during the scare arising out of the Russian occupation ofMerv, it was stated that the Turkomans, now feudatories of that Empire, cast longing eyes on Hindostan, "where gold and diamonds could be pickedup in the streets of the large cities. "

During my stay at Umballah I made arrangements with an officer of theCivil Service for the sale of the loot I had brought from Delhi. Heentrusted the commission to one of his native writers, who executed thework in a satisfactory manner, though the price I received was hardlyequal to the amount I had anticipated. To my friend's wife I gave afiligree gold chain of beautiful workmanship, and of such length that itreached six times round the neck, also a tiara of precious stones, whileI also presented some pearls and gold mohurs. There is no doubt that, had I brought the whole of my plunder home to England, the priceobtained for it would have been far in excess of what I received atUmballah, but the risk of transportation was too great; I feared, also, the chance of robbery and the anxiety attached to carrying about with meso many articles of value. 

INDEX

AFGHANS: their want of bravery at the Siege of Delhi

Ahmed Ali Khan's house headquarters at

Ajmir Gate, captured quarters at

Alipore, advance on

Alma, anniversary of the Battle of

Ammunition, pits dug for scarcity of amount

Army, British: characteristics of the troops instructions on theoutbreak of the Mutiny stringent orders dress reception in Englanddelay in paying prize-money instructions against looting promise ofprize-money batta in lieu indignation against the decision rescindedappointment of prize agents amount distributed

Army, native: signs of incipient mutiny outbreak at Meerut

Artillerymen, their zeal and devotion at the Siege of Delhi

Badli-ki-Serai, action at

_Badmashes_, or bad characters

"Bakra Id, " anniversary of

Bareilly Brigade, the mutinous

Barnard, Sir Henry, at the Siege of Delhi his victory at Badli-ki-Seraiaddress to the troops death from cholera

Barnes, Mr. George, Commissioner of the Cis-Sutlej States

Belooch battalion, at Delhi

Bengal Army: outbreak of the Mutiny signs of incipient mutiny

Bengal Artillery Corps, record of their achievements before Delhi

Bengal Fusiliers, the 1st, quartered at Umballah

_Bhisti_, or water-carrier Boileau, Lieutenant

Bombay

Bridge of boats over the Jumna attempt to blow up

Burn bastion, unsuccessful attack on captured

Calcutta Gate

Campbell, Colonel, column under

Campbell, Sir Colin, at the Battle of Chillianwalla

Campbell, Sir Edward, appointed prize agent

Canning, Lord, his decision in regard to the prize-money

Cannons, punishment of blowing away at the mouths of

Cavalry Brigade, stationed near No. 1 Battery their splendid behaviour

C---- d, Assistant Collector at Goorgaon murder of his sister joins theforce at Delhi his vengeance on the murderers killed

C---- d, Miss, joins her brother at Goorgaon murdered at Delhi

Chamberlain, Brigadier-General

"Chandni Chauk, " or silver street of Delhi

_Charpoy_, or bed

Chillianwalla, Battle of

Cholera, at Delhi, number of deaths from at Loodianah deaths from

_Chunam_, or cement

Cis-Sutlej States

Coke, Major in command of the advance on Alipore his corps of PunjabRifles, quartered in the Jama Masjid

"Cow House, " picket at

Dagshai

Daily Telegraph, proprietors of the their dinner to the survivingveterans of the Mutiny

Deacon, Captain, wounded

Deacon, Colonel

Delhi arsenal in charge of natives arrival of reinforcements buildingsPalace of the Emperors vicissitudes riches massacres circumference ofthe walls the gates number of killed and wounded deaths from choleraarrival of the siege-train preparations for the bombardment trench-workcommencement of the siege total force bombardment arrangements for theattack storming columns dispositions of the troops entrance into thecity destructive nature of street-fighting advantages gained troopsindulge in drink flight of insurgents Palace occupied by troops fall thebridge of boats looting and pillaging discovery of human beings size ofthe city punishment of natives insanitary condition capture by Lord Lakein 1803 accumulation of vast treasures

Delhi Gazette, editor of the, tortured to death

Delhi, Shah Bahadoor Shah, King of: his capture appearance and dresstrial and sentence his sons taken prisoners and shot

Dewan-i-Aum, or Hall of Audience, Delhi

Dewan-i-Khas, Delhi

Dost Mohammed Khan, Ameer, his spies at Delhi

Drink, indulgence in, by the soldiers destruction of liquor

Eclipse, partial, of the sun effect on the mutineers

Edward VII. , King, receives the surviving officers of the Indian Mutiny

Elkington, mortally wounded his premonition of death

Fagan, Captain Robert, killed at Delhi his characteristics

Fagan, Captain, appointed prize agent

Ferozepore, port of, in charge of natives 61st Regiment of Footstationed at signs of disaffection among the sepoys position of the fortcantonment fired explosions destruction of the buildings night attack onmeasures for the safety incident of the comical night attack trial andpunishment of rebels return to

Fishing, amusement of

Flagstaff Tower; view from the

Flies, plague of

Gabbett, Lieutenant, at the attack on the Sabzi Mandi Gardens wounded atNajafgarh his death

Garstin bastion captured

_Gharee_, or native carriage

_Gharra_, or jar

"Ghazi, " meaning of the term

Ghee, mishap from

_Goojars_, or professional thieves

Goorgaon

Goorkha sentry, his treatment of an Afghan

Goorkhas, the Sirmoor battalions of their defence of Hindoo Rao's houseappearance and characteristics bravery their wish to enter Delhi

_Gore log_, or white people

Grant, Colonel, Cavalry Brigade under

Grenadier Company deaths from cholera

Guide Corps, at the Siege of Delhi their assistance to the CavalryBrigade

Gwalior insurgents

Hanging, executions by

Hawthorne, Bugler

Hills, Lieutenant, wounded

Hindoo Rao's house defence of attacks on picket at result of thebombardment

Hindoo temple, discovery of treasure in a shrine

Hindoos, their mode of burial method of concealing valuables

Hodson, Lieutenant, in command of a Sikh regiment and head of theIntelligence Department captures the King of Delhi takes prisoners hissons and grandson shoots them

Home, Engineer

Hope-Grant, Brigadier, in command of the Cavalry Brigade

Hutton, Lieutenant, effect of a round-shot

Infantry, 45th Native, orders to attack the fort of Ferozepore defeatedset fire to the cantonment start for Delhi

Infantry, 57th Native, orders to lay down their arms their treatment ofthe officers

Innes, Brigadier-General, in command of the troops at Ferozepore holdsa council on the outbreak of the Mutiny instructions to the troopsimplicit confidence in the loyalty of the sepoys mismanagement of theMutiny his measures for the safety of Ferozepore

Innes, Dr. , appointed prize agent

Jama Masjid, or Great Mosque of Delhi occupied by the troops

Jennings, Mr. , murdered

Jhind, Rajah of, joins in the assault on Delhi

Jones, Colonel John, 60th Rifles, in command of the defence of SabziMandi Gardens mode of conducting operations

Jones, Colonel William at Ferozepore column under

Jugraon

Jumna River bridge of boats over the attempt to blow up a bridgeerection of a battery

Kabul Gate

Karachi

Karnal

Kashmir contingent, at Delhi style of marching defeat loss of their guns

Kashmir Gate blown in accumulation of material at

_Khaki rang_, or dust colour

Khalsa army

Kincob, manufacture of discovery of

Kishenganj, the suburb of ineffectual attempt on ruins of

Koodsia Bagh, No. 4 Battery

Kotah insurgents _Kukri_, or curved knife

Lahore Gate, attempts to carry unsuccessful attack on captured

Lake, Lord, his capture of Delhi in 1803

Lawrence, Sir John, Chief Commissioner of the Punjab his proclamation tothe Sikhs at Lahore

Light Cavalry, the 3rd, mutineers of the, their massacre of Europeans

Light Cavalry, the 10th Native

Longfield, Brigadier, column under

Loodianah, outbreak of cholera at number of deaths from

Loot, the sale of

Looting, the practice of instructions against military maxim for resultof systematic method of search discovery of treasure hiding-places

Ludlow Castle, occupied by the rebels No. 2 Battery

Lumsden, Punjab Rifles, killed at the Battle of Najafgarh

Magazine, Delhi, attack on the captured amount of shot and shell

Marseilles _Massaks_, or inflated sheepskins

Maxim, military

Medals, presentation of

Meerut, outbreak of the Mutiny at

Metcalfe, Sir Theophilus: his house plundered and burnt guides thetroops in Delhi

Miniature paintings on talc, style of

Mohammedans: their mode of burial method of concealing valuables

Monsoon, the

Mooltani Horse at the Lahore Gate their appearance and want ofdiscipline

Moore, Lieutenant, wounded

Mori bastion, No. 1 Battery

Moylan, Private, saves the life of an officer

Murree Convalescent Depot

Najafgarh, battle of casualties

Nanglooi

Napoleon the Great, saying of

Neemuch insurgents

Nicholson, General, in command of the reinforcements his powers andskill in ruling the lawless tribes his title of "Nikul Seyn" appearanceand characteristics expedition under at Najafgarh, address to the troopscolumn under wounded and death denounces the proposal to evacuate Delhi

_Palki ghari_, or Indian carriage Paniput, battles of

Pattoun, Lieutenant, wounded

Persia, Nadir Shah, King of, his massacre of Delhi in 1747 _Petarahs_, or native leather trunks, theft of

Pets, desertion of

Phillour, arsenal in charge of natives

Prize agents, appointment of

Prize-money, distribution of delay in paying

Punjab Rifles, the 4th, attack the magazine

Punjab, the number of native regiments their coolness and intrepidityunder fire

Reade, Surgeon, awarded the Victoria Cross

Redmond, Major, wounded

Reed, General, resigns his command of the army

Regiment, the 52nd, at Delhi

Regiment, the 61st: stationed at Ferozepore parade routine of guard andpicket duty loss of the silver plate privations and sufferings theircomical "night attack" five companies to march to Delhi preparationsnight marches at Loodianah outbreak of cholera number of deaths atUmballah reach Delhi

Reid, Major, in command of the Sirmoor battalion at Delhi columns underhis attack on Kishenganj wounded

Rifles, the 60th Royal, at the Siege of Delhi

Rockets used by enemy

Rohtak, raid on

Sabzi Mandi Gardens picket duty at the attacks on

Salkeld, Engineer

"Sammy House, " assault on

Sauer, the bandmaster

Seeson, Mrs. , her escape from Delhi

Selimgarh Fort occupied by the troops

Sepoys: signs of disaffection at Ferozepore revolt of infantry andartillery attack the fort of Ferozepore their work of destruction trialand punishment cowardly tactics

Seton, Colonel, wounded

Shah Bahadoor Shah, King of Delhi: his capture appearance and dresstrial and sentence

Showers, Brigadier

Shrapnel shell, effect of a

Siege-train from Ferozepore, threatened approach of reaches camp

Sikhs, the their help and loyalty to the British army, characteristicsstyle of marching their coolness and intrepidity under fire

Silver plate of the 61st Regiment, search for its total destruction

Skinner, Colonel Alexander, troops take possession of his house hiserection of a church, temple, and mosque

Sumroo, Begum

Sun, partial eclipse of the effect on the mutineers

_Tai-khanas_, or underground rooms, discovery of human beings in

Talc, miniature paintings on, style of

Taliwarra, suburb of ruins of

Tattah _Times_, the, article on the delay in payment of the prize-money

Tombs, Major his rescue of Lieutenant Hills at the Battle of Najafgarh

Trench-work before Delhi

Tytler, Mrs. 

Umballah force assembled at troops at

Vicars, Adjutant, at Ferozepore on the news of the outbreak of theMutiny

Wasps, stings from

Water bastion No. 3 Battery, smashed to pieces effect of the bombardment

Wilde's regiment of Punjabis

Wilson, General, in command of the army result of his stringent ordersaddress to his troops council of war instructions for the final assaultorders to prevent drunkenness proposal to evacuate Delhi instructionsagainst looting promise with regard to prize-money

Wriford, Captain, appointed prize agent

Yonge, Lieutenant

Young, Lieutenant, wounded

Zeenat Mahal, portrait of