I must recall my readers for a little to the couple whom I had married on the morning of that memorable day. We had not been above a few minutes in the Mint, when whom did I see rushing in at the gate, out of breath, but my friends whom I had united in wedlock a few hours previously, the bridegroom a few steps in advance of the bride, who was doing her best, with little success, to save her bridal dress from being soiled by the muddy road. Grave though our position was, I could not but smile when I saw them. I went to meet them, and looking sternly at the bridegroom I said, "Chhotkan, did I not tell you this was no time to marry?" He looked at me sheepishly, and said, "Well, sir, it is now over, and I cannot help it." I had better add that the marriage has been a happy one. The husband has maintained a Christian character, and has had a prosperous career, and they both survive to the present time.
THE DAYS SUCCEEDING THE DAY OF PANIC.
On the day after the panic we all returned to our respective homes. The immediate danger was past, but the country around was in a very disturbed state. The officer commanding the station sent round a circular strongly recommending the immediate departure for Calcutta of European families, and, indeed, of all Europeans who were not able and willing to bear arms. Like many of my countrymen, I was thrown by this circular into great perplexity. Our house was out of cantonments, in a very exposed situation. We had four children with us at the time, the eldest six years of age, and the youngest a little more than three months. Their departure was indispensable. Was I to go with them, or send them away and remain behind? Some advised me to go, but we soon saw this was not the course which ought to be pursued. Officers were sending away their families, and they themselves were remaining behind. For me to desert my post at such a time, was seen by us both, would be to undo the work of my life, and it was evident my duty was to remain. Armed steamers were going up and down the Ganges, and I hoped to secure a passage to Calcutta in one of them for my family. Hearing a steamer was expected from Allahabad, we went down to Raj Ghat; and as soon as the steamer came to anchor I went on board. It was full to overflowing of refugees from the North-West. The captain told me he could not give my family even a deck passage, so crowded was the vessel. There was nothing for us but to go back to a friend's house, where we had been living for a few days. Through the kindness of a friend at Allahabad, to whom I had written, I succeeded in securing a small cabin for my family in the next steamer, and in it they made their way to Calcutta, after a detention of some days at Dinapore in great discomfort and danger, owing to the mutiny having broken out there. At Calcutta they embarked, in September, in a cargo ship for England, which they reached after a long and stormy passage. During the whole of July and August the communication between Bengal and the Upper Provinces was so interrupted, that sometimes for weeks together no certain information was received of what was transpiring. At Benares the only mails reaching were from places near us. At Calcutta the rumour went out that Benares had fallen, and that all the English people in it had been massacred, causing the deepest distress to the many there who had left loved ones behind.
BENARES FROM JULY TO DECEMBER.
EXPOSURE TO ATTACK.
From July till October the position of the English at Benares was one of great danger. We had no fighting, but we were continually threatened. We had twice or thrice an alarm, the most serious being from an emeute in the jail, which was soon suppressed and the leaders executed. Delhi was not taken till September, and till that was done, all who desired our overthrow were sure it was about to be accomplished. Our great peril was from Lucknow. Our small force there was besieged, it was reckoned, by 50,000 men. They were not relieved till towards the end of September. While the siege was being carried on, information reached the authorities of Benares that a plan had been formed to detach from the besieging army five or six thousand men to attack us. The plan was most feasible. The distance by the direct route was under two hundred miles. The river Goomtee, which flows by Lucknow, enters the Ganges a few miles from Benares. It was at that time in full flood, and a flotilla might be easily gathered by which, in a few days, a large body of armed men with the munitions of war could have reached us. Some of the Barons of Oude sent offers of aid, but these offers were by many considered lures to draw us into their net, that they might the more easily destroy us. Jung Buhadur, the famous ruler of Nepal, proposed to come with his brave Ghoorkas to defend us, but their presence was more feared than desired. Then in the great city near us we knew there were many plotting our destruction, and ready to rise at the first signal of an approaching foe.
So great was the danger considered, that thousands were set to the erection of a great earth fort close to the Ganges, on the site of an old Muhammadan fortress. Owing to the disturbed state of the country the commerce of the place was paralyzed; the stock of grain in the market was very low, and food was selling at famine prices. The erection of the fort gave most welcome employment to the poorer portion of the community. So great was the danger, that, acting under the advice of those best acquainted with the state of affairs, I sent to this fort books, documents, and other things which I deemed it most important to preserve. We were instructed how we were to act in the event of a sudden outbreak, the rendezvous to which we should instantly resort, and from which we might make our way together to the fort, which was being erected. It often occurred to me that our position at that time was like that of persons sitting on a barrel of gunpowder in a house on fire. So alarming were the accounts received in the daytime, that I often lay down at night uncertain what might occur before morning. Often I got up, looked towards the cantonments, and listened. Thankful that all was quiet, I returned to my bed.
CONSTANCY OF THE NATIVE CHRISTIANS.
During these anxious months I had abundant reason to be thankful for the decision at which we had arrived, that I should remain behind when my family left for England. In the discharge of the work devolving on me from day to day, I felt I should have been recreant to duty, and missed many opportunities of usefulness, had I gone away. Early in September, to the great grief of us all, a much-loved member of the Mission, my sister-in-law, the wife of my senior colleague, Mr. Buyers, was removed by death. She had remained behind when other ladies, who had children, left. Mr. Buyers was prostrated by the blow, and for a considerable time was unable to resume work. The charge of the Mission thus came largely into my hands. Before the end of July we re-opened our principal school in the heart of the city, of which I was superintendent, and which I visited constantly. At Benares a Depôt Hospital was opened, to which the sick and wounded Europeans were brought from the surrounding country, and there a part of every day was spent. My principal work, however, was among the native Christians, with whom I met constantly to speak about the state of affairs, to consult what should be done, to commit ourselves to God, and ask from Him guidance and protection. The firmness and courage of these Christians were worthy of the highest praise. As natives, they could elude observation far more easily than Europeans; but even where they were unknown, so entwined is idolatry with the whole life of the people, they could not be any time among their countrymen without being discovered if faithful to their Lord; and, as recreants from their ancestral religion, they were sure to be cruelly treated. They had only to declare themselves Muhammadans, and safety would be at once secured. Not one of our native Christian community thought of seeking safety by such means. They seemed resolved to brave every hazard rather than deny their Lord. At length, by the capture of Delhi in the first half of September, and the relief of the Lucknow garrison some twelve days afterwards, the dark, threatening clouds over us began to break.
From October onward the tension was loosened; but the danger was not over. Though the garrison at Lucknow had been relieved, we were forced to evacuate it, and for months afterwards the whole country of Oude remained in the hands of those who had risen against us. Over a large portion of the North-West, and in Central India, our government remained prostrate. We had been so long in danger we had become blunted to the sense of it, and remained unmoved in circumstances which at an early period would have greatly excited us.