The Sun.
London, England, 1857-09-11 00:00:00

.N EW S PAPER

t<,,:.%,••:, eti,,11..r74.".
r 477,04. 111, `.-M,
•we ,sees' $4-- see ..:,„„,
'o-r
tnaLif"tl,Y, elee'te-
(
sliest faithful, and were grek fitiseir ieeiet'." ek.'44*
absence, and were ie greet, 4iisoXterLeeittgre. -tt_ -,F4y
thi,
meuatir,a.
rr,ys .
pain through hearing he and I had beer, ItlM"eWeeyle v
were actually weeping, awl were determined ,itio na s
further till we came, or at lease tl e 71Iej r did. We
joined them at Malea on the 15. h, at tight. Ti o
Rajah had treatel us ill; be feared to shelter tee 1 et
the rebels should hear of it. •The tiak from Agra Cl'! e
in during the day, and he took heart, and then let it I ei
known wwwere with him, giving us a carriage and fo r
to get to M'alwa. There we found all the Novegung
Chri.stiants, save two Landsmen, and the woman who
was tervant to you f. r i v, o hours; and then male a gnat
iumpuss about tie children, and lait • 1. - I think she
then tnu4 hnve gone • eilli t ~o eintiuctre. The aria.
tlans had hid themselves ti 1 they could get ae ay. I
half fiat that one drummer, George Dick, the Africin,
was hid eel by men of the 14 h, near Mho a'. Mr. Carme,
at lielwe, was very kin I, and we stayed at his house
till the nieht of the 17th. He couhl not g t people to
obey, and had got the C .urkharee Reis]] to t ke care of
the district for him. On the 17,h we moved off ! oath-
wards, to get to the Ganges. No tents ft r any or e I
had brought a cartload of wine, &0., from tiowgreNet,
and a lit:le tea I found on the road behind my house. It
was useful while we had it. Oer guide teak use off the
proper road to a village, full of men ; we found them
al ready armed with clubs, seemingly dreading us Wo
passed through. I had ord, red the whole not to rn'er
till I came back from a visit, at d was deterwi eel net to
enter it. Some one said I had:writ word t i move on, arui
when too late I found the party in the village. TLe road
lay on through a pass between two hills. We camped
opposite it under trees. The hills were covered with
men, some armed ; some were in the pass, too. I
thought they feared us, and went towards them ; so did
Jackson, and said they had nothing t e fear. By nowt a
message came that we must give 1,000 rupees, or we
should not pass. I told the men to get ready to form a
passage at four, and all were in high spirits for a while.
But some time after, to my horror, a native officer came
and said we must pay the money. We had a 1 mg con•
sultation about it, and resolved that we must either
allow the transaction or be 1 ft by the Sepoye, s , 700
were paid the held of the puny and 300 in ire promised
on our getting cafe to Callingur. The man was to aid
us by the way. It wise very humilia'ing, but after all
our anger, we had to agree.
" We had newly 40 women and children to look
after, and 79 men were quite unable to protect them
on the march, and they- were the real toasters now.
All our ordera were obeyed, and the men were ser-
vants to us, cleaning our horses, Bsh., but we could not
enterers their presence with us on our way Next
mernipz .at daybreak the men who aheld the ness
fireetaiWto us, Our men- fired in the. air; /or ,it..ont
al aim, and then fell back. The major now caress to his
senses, and was himself, from being a chill, who spoke
of a mango, or something to eat or dank, as if it wero
his life, and he and Jackson and Franks did their best
to bring the men up to the attack, but they all melted
away fast panic-stricken. Poor Barber never had strength
to do anything from the moment we started. Ewart, poor
Townsend, and I kept our ground with a few men, 10
or 12, who stood by us, and fired away at the rascals.
.One of them afterwards saw the drum-major elsewhere,
aad said we had killed 14. I saw none fall. I could not
go for more met, lest the few that were standing should
follow me. We kept the rascals at a distance, and ling
out of shot of the women. At la t poor Townsend foil,
eh et through the breast ; ha said, " My Go 3, I am hit,"
and fell, turning over and over. I lifted him, and saw the
blood coming from his heart. I said, "I think we must
go." A t any rate, we all move 1 back. The main party
were a long way off, the men, I am ashamed to say,
walking very quick. I knelt beside the poor fellow when
we were left alone, and prayed that he might speedily
rise in the resurrection to joy. I brought away his sword
and left the body. He was a brave warm-hearted fellow,
acd would have been a fine officer. We walked or rode
all day till 3 p.m. ; not a buggy or carriage was brought
away. Mr. Mawe and Mr. Smalley walked from day-
light till past noon on foot. I was alone in the rear all the
time, with some of the women and t ago children. 1 sent
E wart on to find out where the main body had gone, as
they were a long way out of sight. He seems to have
lot his senses with the sun, for he told the corps I was
in a cily close to them, when I was m les behind ; the
main party rushed on, and every one bad to fellow as
they best could. Our enemes fell )wed HI we came to a
native chiet's lands, and then et peed. A village fired
on us, and we were threatened on every side. Mr. Carne,
who hal joined us, left us now, and went to the Ghor•
koree Rajah, who took him in and protected him.
My part that day was terrible. I had to try to lug
along two fat old women, while I carried three ch lA-
len on my horse, and tried to keep back the Sepeys
who were with me. The senior havildar got more and
more savage, and wanted me to leave the children
and women, but I would not, and, thank God, they did
not leave us. I came at last to Mr. Smalls), sitting be-
side his wile; she seemed dead, but it was doubtful, so I
teok her up before me, and give a boy to my writer who
had got hold of my horse. I was on poor Townsend'',
and I went on thus some distance. It was a most ardu-
ous task to keep the utterly inert body on the horse, as
I placed her as women ride ; but aft r awhile she seemed
dead. I held a consultation about it, and we loft the
body. I then got on foot. I was lama from an awful
kick of a horse, and had only a strip of cloth on onefoot,
but poor Smalley was worse off, and he got on my horse
and Mrs. Tien sy bebiud ; her two children each got a
seat on the two horses, and thus I reached the main body.
I found on the way a golosh the poor major bad dropped
—it was very useful to me. At noon the sergeant-
major died bofuro mein the most awful way of apoplexy
—he fell as if struck. rose and fell, and staggered.
" The major ere I reached had died of the sun too. I
had lost sight of some of my party. I went slowly, and
di 1 all I could for them, but I was obliged, the country
being so hostile, to join the main body, and save those
on my horses. 'he Sepoys were very glad to see me ;
they feared I had been murdered, as Malwa ; Ewart
bad said I had entered it with him, and that we had
been fired at there, and that I had not come away. He
went in alone, when I was miles behind him. His ima-
gination was for a long time quite destroyed. For the
remainder of the day we moved on as a party of officers
escorted by rebel Sepoys t 3 be killed at Banda by a
Newab. The ruse took, and we were allowed to pees.
We entered and passed through a large city. Then were
fed by it. I heard our men say, `They' are great peep's)
people, the Sahibs ; we must treat them as such, and
entertain theta ere killing them.' The citymen assented.
We had an opportunity few have of knowing natives—
hundreds surrounded us as we sat on the ground steel we
chupattees and native sweetmeats. Not one said an
uncivil word. Some said our rale had been very just—
some expressed sorrow—some, it struck me, did their
utmost to get a few of us killed for the amusement of
the city. At length all cleared off, it being dark. A 1
the bandmen and their women were gone to the city
to make terms of some sort, or to shift for them-
selves. The Sepoya told us respectfully we must shift
for ourselves ; they could not protect, us, as all the coun-
try was against u'. We ell mounted our horses—Dr. and
Mrs. Mawe on Mr. Townaend's horse that I lent them ;
Mr. Smalley and his child on my own. I was able to
walk.

" We suffered terribly from thirst that night and next
morning till it was light. We saw a well close to where
we bad slept ; we sought in a wrong direr ion at first.
We had slept near a rr a I ; had we discovered it we would
have gone to a distance for fear of being discovered. It
was a mercy we did not. In the morning we were at-
tacked by villagers with long bamboos, who came about
us in numbers that increased every moment. Their yells
were horrible, so devilish, though we had done nothing,
We fired pistols, an I missed them. I was commanding,
and kept in the rear with Ewart, facing about now and
then, and stopping the ruffians. I wee horribly ham-
pered with Mr. Smalley behind me and little Lotty in
my arms. I missed the ruffians when I fired, but they
missed me too. At last some armed horse and foot men
joined from the road, and then a Mrs. Kirchoff, who
with her husband, a sergeant under poor Powys, had
joined us at Malwa, fell off her horse. I had a ruffiAn
with a lance poised at me, and another brandishing ono
of their long bamboos, I had neither hand free, and
missed the spearinan. My two friends, however, missed
me, an .l as I could do nothing on horseback, and the
woman's husband seemed quite unable to put her on her
horse again, I was wanting to get off and fight on foot,
feeling we could not lave the woman, when off went
my horse at such a gallop. I had only a string for a
bridle, and had to hold Lotty, and could do nothing to
)tap the horse that was always a ruaaway rend hard t
stop. Frank's son came thundering up, and my horbe
got worse. I was angry, not krowing Frank was chased
by a loose horse. At ;ast we got
when near a frightful nuiand
lah
I expected the horse to leap into, he yi, ,
turning to the right, stopped soon, and I thought all
must have been murdered by some who might have rid-
dm off, and so we moved on, sad, as you may suppose.
now found my poor horse had bons pierced on the right
bock by the lance; he had carried it some distance. Frank
said, 'No wonder he ran. Poor Lotty was alive. I
had the greatest difficulty in holding her, and in trying
to save her the shock of the horse nearly lost her often.
hand wa arminst us. We
w
A kind man, a very poor one, sheltered us pail of the
day • his name was Ferukli Khan. Wherever we turned
that day the next
every
when
parched with '
thirst to get a
offered water
chance of knocking us off our horsed, At noon of the
ssya
21st, a Sunday, we lay down under some trees, and
soon became aware of a concourse of armed men being
close to us. The others mounted and got-off a few
yards. I had to pick up Lotty and mount, and had not
time, I so took her in my arms and let them come on.
My horse could not go at all, so it was useless to attempt
an escape. I had repeatedly told the others to make off
under snob circumstances,
ances, d see how I was treated.
They did not do so. Good feeling prompted Frank,
who is a fine fellow in many respects. We were tal en
to a village. I need not describe what followed, but
everything betokened death as certain. One old rascal
looked at me maliciously, and made a hacking ruo% e-
ment with his hand against his throat, as a suggeoi
et We were ttl.l
of what we deserved and were to get.
at last we were to be taken to the Newab of Bauda.
The poor man Ferukh had said it was certain death to
go to Bands, and I felt carton-) we should be all
killed.
•
I had a very faint hope that God might spare us. it
was a great relief when we got to the Newaba' palace
through thousands of z mlous Mahommedans, and were
pulled inside the gate and assured we were safe. Mrs.
Mawe was brought in next day. TI e rest of the party
had got rid of the assailants, shooting one, and by the
21st they had crossed the river Cane, five miles below
Bauda ; they were close to it when some villagers
menaced them ; they all mounted and rode off. Poor
Doctor and Mrs. Mawe fell off and were not noticed,
save by sergeant Kirchoff, who had to attend his own
wife, She had gone on and he was on foot, and he left
the two. Poor Dr. Mawe bed lost his hat the day be-
fore, and had suffered ea fully. He died a few
minutes after being left. Poor Mrs. Mawe burned
all over by the sun, went then and eat
down in the river to cool her burns. By
and by some more villagers came and dragged her