made my way, still escorted by my loyal native officer and his two sowars, to the Artillery lines, where, having brought me in safety, they made their final salute and left me, notwithstanding my earnest entreaties and persuasions that they should remain with me,—the native officer averring that his duty was with his regimental comrades, and whether for life or death they must return to the regiment. And so we parted, after several hours of the most anxious and trying dangers; and for ever — - for, notwithstanding all my efforts, I never heard again of my friend the native officer. I knew his name, of course; but though I found out his house, in the Oude District, no trace of him was ever again found, and I could only conclude he met his death at Delhi in the

mutineers' camp.

A braver or more

loyal man I have never met, and, whatever his faults may have subsequently been, in his mutiny against his salt and his military allegiance, all will allow his loyalty to me was beyond praise, and I can never forget him, or how he risked his life again and again to save mine.

But this was by no means a solitary instance of the personal loyalty of our men to their officers. Both Captain Craigie and Lieutenant Mackenzie, with their families, were guarded by their own men and brought out in safety. Indeed I may say that not a single officer's life was taken by our own men, though subsequently at Delhi they were the chief leaders in the massacre which occurred at that place.

40

II.

HAV

AVING thus made my way safely into the lines of the Bengal Artillery, I found the whole place in an extreme ferment

every one in the greatest anxiety as to what had really occurred, numbers of refugees from the native lines and bazaars having brought in ghastly accounts of the burning of houses and massacre of Europeans, &c. Night was partially setting in, and, strange to say, not a movement had as yet been made for either succour or vengeance. There appeared to be a general paralysis. General Hewitt was,

as I said before, a very old officer, and on this occasion was completely unmanned. He had more or less relegated his authority to Brigadier Archdale Wilson, the commandant of artillery and next senior officer. The British troops consisted of Tombs' Troop of Horse Artillery (one of the finest batteries of that magnificent arm), a battery of field artillery, the 6th Dragoon Guards (the Carabiniers), and the first battalion of the 60th Rifles. The Carabiniers had recently arrived in India, and-with the exception of one squadron, called the Crimean Squadron, consisting of old soldiers who had served in the Russian campaign-was composed of young and almost raw recruits; their horses were remounts, and only partially trained; so that the regiment could scarcely be called

thoroughly efficient. I would, however, bear record to the magnificent services performed by the Carabiniers during the rest of the campaign-especially at Delhi, and in the North-West Provinces and Rohilkund. On a Sunday evening, when there was not the least expectation of such an émeute, or of any disturbance, the troops were naturally more unprepared than on any ordinary week-day. Indeed it was said, and I believe on good foundation, that it was the original intention of the mutineers to attack the British lines that evening, hoping to find the troops attending church without their firearms, which was the custom in those days.

On my arrival I learnt it had just been decided to move the troops, who were all assembled ready, through the native lines