Gil the Gunner: The Youngest Officer in the East

by George Manville Fenn

“Come away, Gil,” said Brace, hoarsely; “it only makes me feel mad against these wretches; and at a time when, with the work I have in hand, I want to be calm and cool as a judge.”

At that moment there was a furious roar from somewhere at the back of the house, and Brace’s hand went to his sword on the instant, mine naturally following suit.

“Draw, lad!” he cried. “We had no business to come without an escort. Keep close to me.”

But a second burst of shouting reassured us. No one but Englishmen could raise an indignant cry such as we heard.

“What does it mean?” I said, as we hurried out through the door, out of which the poor creatures who had defended themselves had been dragged, and we came directly upon about a dozen of our men, with some of the foot regiment.

“This way, sir—this way!” cried one of the men, who was in a terrible state of excitement; and unable to grasp more than that the men had been foraging about, and had made some discovery, they hurried us on to what must have been a kind of summer-house in a pleasant garden with a goldfish tank, and various other proofs of the taste of the late occupants of the place.

In this tank were various objects, apparently thrown in by the fierce mob which had plundered the house; while, as we drew near, there was just before us a heap of furniture and household goods, which had been piled up in front of the summer-house entrance, and fired, evidently to blaze furiously for a time, and with the object of burning down the summer-house as well.

A number of the half-burnt and charred things had been dragged away by the soldiers so as to clear the doorway, prompted, no doubt, by curiosity to see what was in the place the mob had tried to burn down; and, as we neared the spot, and the men, who were half mad with excitement, made way for us to look in, I felt for the moment as if turned to stone, and then the tears started to my eyes, weak as it may sound to say so, and formed a veil which shut out the horrors of the scene before me.

Shall I describe it? Yes; from no morbid wish to dwell upon the frightful scenes which, alas! grew too common, but as some palliation of the acts of our men, against whom charges were plentiful about their want of mercy.

Twelve poor creatures lay there, but only two were men in the prime of life, and who, hacked almost to pieces, had died bravely in the defence of their wives, sisters, and the helpless children, who lay in a heap with them—nine white women and children; and, holding it tightly to her breast even in death, a black woman, the faithful ayah or nurse of the infant she held, in protecting and trying to save which she had died.