y-arrived soldiers, simply
because they were natives, that I was afraid they might leave us in a
body; and if they had done so we should have been in a sad plight. One
of my own servants, a native Christian, complained bitterly to me of the
treatment he had received.

The quiet of Benares during this period was remarkable--I might almost
say preternatural. When the fight of the 4th of June commenced, numbers
were seen with drawn swords rushing towards cantonments, but when they
saw Sepoys falling, and others running away, they shrank back into the
city. A great dread fell on the entire population. I was told by natives
the report had gone out that the English soldiers had been commanded to
enter the city, and slay every man, woman, and child they met; and that
in consequence, to adopt their exaggerated words, they sat trembling all
night, no one daring to sleep.

In the meantime the terrible work of retribution commenced. Martial law
was proclaimed, and many poor miserable creatures, charged with
plundering, were hanged. Some of the Sepoys caught were blown from guns.
I will not harrow my readers with details. I shunned as much as I could
these bloody scenes, but on several occasions I came suddenly on them.
To the present day I shudder as I think of what I saw.

THE PANIC OF JULY 6TH.

[Sidenote: OUR DAY OF PANIC.]

I must now come to our day of panic, July 6th. July 5th was a Sunday. We
had our usual services with the native Christians. Some two hours after
the evening service, a nephew of ours, then at Benares, drove into the
compound, and told us we must go at once to the Mint, as a large force
of Sepoys and country people were four miles off, prepared to attack the
jail. This was startling news, as our house lay in the direct line
between the jail and the city, and, in the event of the attack being
successful, we should be the first victims. Still, we were very
unwilling to stir, but our nephew was so urgent that we at last complied
with his entreaty. A refugee family was in our house, and with us all
crowded into a small conveyance we made our way to the rendezvous. What
a scene was there! Most had arrived before us. Rain was falling, and we
could not remain out. The rooms were so crowded that we could not get
into them, and we had to lie for the night as we could in a dirty
passage, with our back to the wall. The night passed off without an
alarm, and in the morning we returned to our home, somewhat annoye