forest of trees and
gardens, forming a dense mass of verdure, in the midst of which, and
peeping out here and there in picturesque confusion, were the white
walls and roofs of numerous buildings. Tall and graceful minarets,
Hindoo temples and Mohammedan mosques, symmetrical in shape and gorgeous
in colouring, appeared interspersed in endless numbers among the
densely-packed houses inside the city, their domes and spires shining
with a brilliant radiance, clear-cut against the sky. Above all, in the
far distance towered the Jama Masjid, or Great Mosque, its three huge
domes of pure white marble, with two high minarets, dwarfing into
insignificance the buildings by which it was surrounded--surely, the
noblest work of art ever built by man for the service of the Creator.

To the left could be seen the lofty castellated walls of the Palace of
the Emperors, the former seat of the Great Mogul--that palace in
which at that moment the degenerate descendant of Timour, and last
representative of his race, held his court, and in his pride of heart
fondly hoped that British rule was at an end.

Beyond rose the ancient fortress of Selimgarh, its walls, as well as
those of the palace on the north side, washed by the waters of the
Jumna. A long bridge of boats connected the fort with the opposite bank
of the river, here many hundred yards in width: and over this we could
see, with the aid of glasses, bodies of armed men moving.

It was by this bridge that most of the reinforcements and all the
supplies for the mutineers crossed over to the city. On the very day of
our arrival the mutinous Bareilly Brigade of infantry and artillery,
numbering over 3,000 men, marched across this bridge. Our advanced
picket at the Metcalfe House stables, close to the Jumna, heard
distinctly their bands playing "Cheer, boys, cheer!" the very same tune
with which we had celebrated our entrance into camp that morning.

Few cities in the world have passed through such vicissitudes as Delhi.
Tradition says it was the capital of an empire ages before the great
Macedonian invaded India, and its origin is lost in the mists of
antiquity. Traces there were in every direction, amid the interminable
cluster of ruins and mounds outside the present city, of cities still
more vast, the builders and inhabitants of which lived before the dawn
of history.

Delhi had been taken and sacked times out of number. Its riches were
beyond compare; and for hundreds of years i