upolt. In fact, only the Church missionaries went in that
direction, and they could go in no other.

As we were hastening to the Ganges we knew from the noise of the
musketry and cannon that the battle was going on, and from the cloud of
smoke rising from cantonments we feared that all the houses were on
fire. We went with others to the house of an English merchant whom we
knew well, and then as the natives were gathering around we betook
ourselves to boats on the river, and got out into the stream. In a short
time a messenger from cantonments reached us with the good news that our
men were victorious, and that the mutineers were in flight. We returned
to the house of our merchant friend with the intention of remaining
there for the night. With our party were a number of children, some of
them infants, and they, poor things, were put to rest in any corner
which could be found. Between eight and nine the Brigade-Major, who had
been slightly wounded, and had been saved from certain death by the
faithfulness of a trooper, rode into the compound accompanied by men of
the Irregular Cavalry regiment. We all ran out, and were told by him
that a number of English soldiers, who had just arrived from Calcutta,
were on the other side of the Ganges ready to be ferried over, and that
they would form our escort to the Mint, which was between three and four
miles distant. In the meantime we learned all that had occurred--how the
Native Infantry regiment had mutinied, how they had been joined by the
Sikhs, some said by panic, by others I believe more truly, from sympathy
with their Hindustanee brethren, as was shown by their after conduct;
and how all had been put to flight by our band of soldiers, aided by the
guns. On our side four were killed and nineteen wounded, of whom the
greater number afterwards died. How many of the Sepoys were killed was
not ascertained, as, with the exception of a few, the dead and wounded
were carried off by their comrades.

When all was ready we set out, a long cavalcade, with English soldiers
in front and behind, and native troopers on each side, our guardians
then, but before the morning dawned in flight to join the mutineers. It
was a calm, beautiful moonlight night, forming a strange contrast to the
turmoil of the preceding hours. The road took us by our house, and as we
passed the gate a servant, who had been watching for us, came out with
artificially cooled water, which was very welcome. We reached