there, that readers may the better understand what we saw.

[Sidenote: MUTINY AT CAWNPORE.]

On the breaking out of the Mutiny, the English soldiers and residents
entrenched themselves in an open plain, which had the solitary advantage
of accommodation in barracks, while they left the arsenal in the hands
of the insurgents. The siege commenced on June 6th, directed by Dundhoo
Punt, the Nana Sahib as he was called, the adopted son of Bajee Rao, the
ex-Peshwa of the Mahrattas, whose castle was ten miles distant. On June
27th, after enduring terrible hardships and privations, our people
surrendered on promise of being sent safely to Allahabad. They
accordingly made their way to the promised boats; but no sooner had they
been reached than they were set on fire, and the Nana in person directed
a fusillade on the party. Only four succeeded in escaping, and they did
this by swimming. The men were murdered, the women and children, to the
number of two hundred, were taken back, were huddled together in crowded
rooms, scantily fed on the coarsest food, and subjected to every
indignity. The Nana's army was defeated in several engagements, and was
at last utterly overthrown by the army led by General Havelock, in a
battle fought at the entrance to Cawnpore. By an order of the Nana,
issued by him when fleeing from the place, the women and children were
murdered, and their bodies were thrown into a well. Our soldiers arrived
to see to their horror the well choked with the victims of Nana's
satanic cruelty. Unknown to those whom he was besieging, he had
previously, on June 4th, ordered the massacre of one hundred and thirty
men, women, and children, who had come from Futtyghur.

[Sidenote: GALLANT DEFENCE AND TERRIBLE DEFEAT.]

At Cawnpore we saw much to sadden us to the very core. The thrilling
accounts we had read of the atrocious deeds there committed came to our
remembrance with a painful reality. All along the river-side, houses,
once occupied by officers, lay in ruins as the mutineers had left them.
We observed flowers blooming here and there in the gardens, planted by
those who had been so ruthlessly cut down. We visited all the places
made memorable by the sad events of 1857. We went to the Sabadha Kothee,
as it was called, the house on a slight elevation from which the Nana
directed the siege of the entrenched camp. It was well remembered by us
as the abode, in 1842, on our first visit to Cawnpore, of a missionary
of the P