Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1881-06-04

fdence in them and their men. Shortly
afterward, to our great relief, the Briga.
der broke down altogether, took to his
bed, aHd handed over the command to our
Colonel, one of the best and bravest officers
in the army, whose brevet rank. gained by
distinguished service in the field, placed
him over the older officers who COM
manded the other regiments. He at once
set to work on the intrsnchments, which
were completed in fortnight, and at the
same time, by his personal influence over the
Sepoys, checked, to some extent, the spirit
of dissatisfaction which had shown itself
In the shape of fires. This had been OF
nearly nightly occurrence, and were I'M
doubtedly the work OF iucendiaries. They,
however, ceased for time, and the mid
night meetings of men of all regiments, of
which we had received secret but sure in.
formation, were also discontinued.
One Monday afternoon Musselman
fanatic, who had come from Delhi to incite
troopers and brought up to our Colonel. A
court-martial was held at once, and he was
hanged the same evening in the presence Of
the whole force, without the slightest at
tempt being made to rescue him or even
a murmur being heard in the ranks, even
when the wretched man cried out that he
was dying for the faith and called on all
true believers to save him from the in
fidels.
All was quiet during the night, but next
morning, when Hampden's Horse were
drawn up for drill, trooper suddenly
shouted out, THE murder of our saint
must be avenged, and fred his carbine at
the Colonel. In another minute the officers
were riding for their lives, followed by a
score Of Sowars, while the rest of the regi-
ment galloped furiously through the infsn-
try and artillery lines, calling to the men
to join them. They, however, met with
no answer, and, being fred on by few
faithful Sepoys, who, at the first alarm,
had gathered round their officers, they
rode off ia great disorder, after having set
fire to their own lines and their officers
bungalows, and cut down two or three
Europeans whom they happened to come
across.
Much relieved by their sudden departure
and the apparent stanchness of the mass
of the Sepoys, we fattered ourselves that
we had tided over the worst of the danger,
aud that order would soon be restored !;
but within forty EIGHT hours we were un.
deceived. OF the next great outbreak |
can tell but little, for exposure to the sun
had brought on fever and partial delirium.
have but confused recollection OF sud-
den alarm cry that the Sowars had come
back and were numbering every one a
rush from my blazing house through surg
ing crowd of natives, and then finding my
self safe inside the intrenchment. a week
passed before / was able to take part in the
defense, and by that time there was need of
every man who could handle rifle, for
the casualties had already been many.
For three long weeks we held out, suffer
ing terribly from heat and scarcity of water,
as well as from insufficient food, having
from the very first been on half, and latter
ly on quarter rations. Still we did not des-
pair, for faithful Sepoy, who, at the risk
of his own life. had passed through the
enemy's lines, brought note In Greek
characters from Colonel Adair, of the
Twenty fifth Lancers, informing us that he
hoped to be able to relieve us on the fol-
lowing Sunday. On that day the mutt
neers left us in peace, the greater part of
them having moved off to oppose the re-
leving force. From earliest dawn until
late at night we watched in vain for any
sight or sound that might tell US how the
fight was going. At last we heard dis
tant gun, then heavy firing, which at first
sounded nearer and nearer, then remained
for a time, then gradually grew
fainter and fainter, until at last it died
away in the distance, and not sound
broke the silerce of the night. Then our
hearts sank within US, for we knew that all
hope Of succor was at an end, and that we
were left to our fate. The rising sun
showed US the camp of our enemies swarm
ing with armed men, villagers as well as
Sepoys, who shouted out that they had
conquered the Feringhees, and held up the
uniforms and accoutrements of English
soldiers in token of their victory.
We fully expected that they would now
make final attack in force, but they had
probably formed a pretty good idea of the
state to which we had been reduced, and,
like wise men, determined to starve us out.
On Tuesday afternoon council of war
was held, at which it was decided that we
should sally out as soon as the moon had
set try to cut our way through the en-
envy, and then make for Colonel Adair's
camp, which, we had reason to believe,
was somewhere in the direction of. Devi-
pur, about twenty miles off. This was in
deed very forlorn hope but our last
morsel having been eaten, and with only a
few cartridges remaining in our pouches,
no other course was open to US. We were
less hampered with sick and wounded than
might have been expected, for death had
been very busy among the women and
children. while of our fighting men scarcely
one third of those who had entered the in
trenchments answered to their names at
our last roll-call. This great mortality
was lowing partly to our having been en-
tirely without medical aid of any sort, all
three OF our surgeons having been killed,
and the hospital shed, with all its contents,
burnt by a shell which burst right in it on
the third day of the siege.
During this, our last day, the heat had
been more than usually intense, and the
atmosphere perfectly sufocating but to-
ward evening strong wind sprang up
from the south, heavy clouds gathered over
the whole sky. and soon after dark a
crashing peal of thunder shook the very
STOunu DSuSdtu us. IL WAS iuiiOWSu ny
perfect torrent of rain one of these sud.
den storms, uncommon in the hot weather,
had come on, and was soon raging in its
full fury.
Nothing could have suited US better, and
on sallying out we found, as we had ex-
pected, that the enemy had taken shelter
In their huts, and that not single sentry
was on the alert. At first we succeeded
even beyond our hopes, cutting our way
without much difficulty through the scat
tered groups of mutineers who hurried to.
gether to oppose us but before we were
well clear of their camp we lost our way
in the pitchy darkness, got broken up into
small parties, and were never able to reas-
semble. After stumbling along for what
seemed several hours we heard the tramp
of horses on all sides, and in few minutes
found ourselves surrounded by large
body of Hampden's Horse. The hopeless
struggle which followed was short but
bloody; we were quickly overpowered,
most of our party were killed on the spot,
while about dozen, including my wife,
st. Hill, the two clergymen, and young
Stubs, were taken prisoners, mounted