A Narrative of the Siege of Delhi | Page 8

might have found his way in for the
purpose of devoting his life to the destruction of the entrenchment and
the annihilation of the European guard, we remained anxiously
expectant for some time.
No cause could be assigned for the explosions we had heard, but we
were informed subsequently that, by the orders of our commander, the
magazines or bells of arms belonging to the two native regiments had
been blown up by a party of sappers in the fear that they might fall into
the hands of the rebellious sepoys. It was a futile precaution, and a
mere waste of ammunition; for nothing could have been easier than to
send the contents of the magazines under our escort to the arsenal.
At eight o'clock we were dismissed to barracks, and left the spot where
we had stood in line inert and inactive since four o'clock the previous
afternoon.
Shortly after breakfast I was sent for by the Colonel to the

orderly-room, and informed that it was the wish of the Brigadier that I
should proceed with my company into the cantonments. I was ordered
to make strict search for, and to take prisoner, any sepoys or bad
characters that might be lurking about; and to this end I was to patrol
the station from one side to the other. I was also to visit the
commissariat quarters, disarm the native guard, using force if necessary,
and secure the treasure chest, which contained some 20,000 rupees.
It struck me that this duty might very well have been performed many
hours before. Why had not a company been detailed to patrol the
cantonment the previous evening, or, at any rate, at the first sign of
incendiarism?
However, I started without delay with ninety Grenadiers, and marched
over a great part of the station, extending the company in skirmishing
order whenever we passed through the numerous large gardens,
orchards, and enclosures.
Not a soul was to be seen, and the place seemed entirely deserted. The
sepoys, after their work of destruction, must have left during the night,
and were now probably well on their way to Delhi, while the
badmashes who had assisted them had returned quietly to their
occupations in the bazaars of the city.
The cantonment presented a complete scene of desolation. The church
and chapel were a heap of burnt-up and smouldering ruins, our
mess-house the same, and numerous bungalows--former residences of
the officers--were still on fire. The heat from the burning embers was
intense, and as we passed slowly by we viewed, with anger in our
hearts, the lamentable results of the timidity and vacillation, the
irresolution and culpable neglect, of one man.
Lastly, we visited the commissariat quarters at the far side of the station.
Here there was no guard, not even a native in charge. Strange
inconsistency! It turned out that, some hours before our arrival, the
sepoy 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 at the 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 on a bed and slept soundly for some hours.
We were told that afternoon that the 57th Native Infantry, who had
marched to the rear of our barracks the evening before, had remained
quietly in the country during the night without one sepoy showing any
mutinous disposition. In the early morning, without molesting their
English officers, about half the regiment signified their intention of
marching down-country; while of the rest, some 300 men returned to
their lines 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 was
hurt by them, or even insulted. The sepoys quietly but firmly
announced that they released themselves from the service of the East
India Company, and were about to become enrolled as subjects of the
King of Delhi. Then, in several instances even saluting their officers
and showing them every mark of respect, they turned their faces to the
great focus of rebellion, to swell the number of those who were about
to fight against us in the Mohammedan capital of Hindostan.
The officers of these two corps were more fortunate than their
comrades of other regiments throughout the land, many of whom were
shot down by their own sepoys in cold blood under circumstances of
signal barbarity. They saw their wives and children murdered before
their faces, while those who escaped the fury of the sepoys wandered in
helpless flight through jungles and