y capture of the Palace that
morning, and were shown the bodies of the fanatics who had disputed the
entrance and had been killed in the enclosure. None of them were sepoys,
but belonged to that class of men called "ghazi," or champions of the
faith, men generally intoxicated with bhang, who are to be found in
every Mohammedan army--fierce madmen, devotees to death in the cause of
religion. Passing on, we wandered through the courts, wondering at the
vast 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, or
Hall of Audience. This last, a large building of white marble on the
battlements overhanging the River Jumna, was now the headquarters of the
General and his staff, and where formerly the descendants of the great
warrior Tamerlane held their court, British officers had taken up their
abode; 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 entered
the old fort of Selimgarh, built, like the Palace, on the banks of the
river, its battlements, as well as those of the latter place on its
eastern side, being washed by the waters of the Jumna. Several heavy
guns and mortars were mounted on the walls of the fort, and we noticed
one old cannon of immense size for throwing stone balls, but which was
cracked at the muzzle, and evidently had not been used for centuries.
The fort was full of large and commodious buildings, used afterwards for
hospitals by our troops, the place itself, from its commanding situation
open and separate from the rest of the city, being the healthiest place
that could be found. There was a lovely view of the country on the left
bank of the Jumna, while to the north and south we followed the windings
of the broad river till lost to view in the far distance.

Descending from Selimgarh, we took our stand on the bridge of boats now
deserted in its whole length, but over which, during the days of the
siege, thousands of mutineers had marched to swell the rebel forces in
Delhi. Thence we skirted along the banks of the river outside the walls,
viewing on our way the houses of the European residents, built in
charming situations close to the water's edge. These had been all
entirely destroyed, gutted, and burnt; nothing but the bare walls were
left standing, and the interiors filled with heaps of ashes. We th