So some hours wore away. Then the sepoys, furious at their ineffectual attempts to get at their prey, brought up a large screen on wheels, with thick planks in front, and with this shut off what was apparently the little garrison’s only exit. It was their intention to fire the roof and burn the Englishmen in their trap.
There was another door at the side of the house, however, and while the flames crackled and the choking smoke filled the rooms, Home and all the able men with him seized hold of the wounded and made a dash through this across the square to a small shed that appeared to be empty. They reached it, but only half a dozen were in a condition to handle their rifles. The remnant that had struggled through with them could hardly raise themselves from the floor.
The shed being loopholed, McManus and his comrades Ward and Ryan, together with another 78th man, named Hollowell, were able to keep the sepoys at a distance. They could not prevent, however, the ghastly murder of the wounded, who still lay in the dhoolies at the farther end of the square. One after another the unfortunate men were shot or bayoneted as they lay, only one (an officer of the 90th), it is recorded, escaping by a miracle.
All the rest of that fearful day, and throughout the night, the brave surgeon and his handful of men held their fort against the swarms of mutineers who surged again and again to the attack. In the darkness they heard the sepoys tramping about on the roof, but a few well-aimed shots put these daring spirits to flight. The lack of water was now keenly felt, some of the wounded suffering terribly for want of it. Moved to desperation by their piteous cries, and hoping to secure a safer position, Home and a private at last stole out into the square and made their way to a mosque some yards distant. They obtained some water, but a vigilant sepoy espied their movements, and the plucky pair only just got back to the shed in time.
“The terrors of that awful night,” says Dr. Home in his account of his experiences, “were almost maddening: raging thirst, uncertainty as to where the sepoys would next make an attack; together with the exhaustion produced by want of food, heat, and anxiety.”
But morning saw them still alive, and with the daylight came the welcome sound of rifle volleys, unmistakably British. Ryan, who was acting as sentry at a loophole, sprang excitedly to his feet and roused his comrades with the shout, “Oh, boys, them’s our own chaps!”
And a few minutes later into the corpse-strewn square swept a column of redcoats, driving the sepoys before them in wild confusion. With Home leading them, the heroes of Dhoolie Square gave as loud a cheer as their feeble voices could raise, and flinging open the door of their refuge, rushed out to greet their rescuers.
Surgeon Home (he is now Sir Anthony Dickson Home, K.C.B.), and Privates McManus, Ward, Ryan, and Hollowell, all received the Cross for Valour for their splendid devotion and bravery; and never, surely, did men deserve the honour more. To have held something like a thousand rebels in check for a day and a night, and to have protected as many of their wounded as they did, was a feat that they might well be proud of.