Explosion of the magazine.
Later on in the afternoon, the great magazine in the heart of Delhi was seen from the Ridge to explode in a cloud of smoke and flame. It was in charge of Lieutenant Willoughby of the Bengal artillery, but he had only eight Europeans with him; the guards and workmen were all Asiatics. Arms were served out to every one; loaded guns were pointed to the gateways; and a train of gunpowder was laid to the chief magazine. A vast host of rebels pressed round the enclosure, and demanded the surrender of the magazine in the name of the king. Admittance was refused, but the rebels brought ladders to the walls, or climbed to the roofs of neighbouring buildings, and poured a hot fire on the inmates of the magazine. Most of the workmen joined the rebels. Those who still remained staunch threw away their rifles, and seemed bereft of their senses. At last Lieutenant Willoughby ordered Sergeant Scully to fire the train. In a moment there was a great upheaval. Hundreds of rebels were blown into the air; but unfortunately the greater part of the stores fell into the enemy's hands. Willoughby and three others got away out of the city scorched, bruised, and insensible; but Willoughby was murdered a few days afterwards in a neighbouring village. Scully was wounded by the explosion, and killed by the rebels; he and his four companions were seen no more.
Flight from Flagstaff Tower.
By this time all hope of rescue had died out from the fugitives in Flagstaff Tower. It was feared that the rebels would return to the Ridge to complete the work of slaughter. All fled the best way they could—men, ladies, and children; some in carriages, others on horseback, and many on foot. Even at this distance of time, it is terrible to think of their sufferings. Many were slaughtered by the rebels, but some found refuge in the houses of Hindu villagers, who treated them with kindness and hospitality at the risk of their own lives.
Last telegram.
Before the day was over the clerk at the telegraph office on the Ridge sent his last telegram. "The mutineers from Meerut are masters of Delhi; several Europeans have been murdered; the office must be closed." Shortly afterwards the rebel sepoys swarmed out of the city to complete the work of destruction on the Ridge, and the poor telegraph clerk was cut to pieces and heard of no more.
Sudden alarm.
Within a few moments the fatal news reached every capital in India:—Lahore in the Punjab; Agra and Allahabad in the North-West Provinces; Lucknow in Oudh; Benares, Patna, and Calcutta in Bengal; Bombay in the Deccan; Madras in the remote south. From Calcutta and Bombay the revolt of Delhi sent a thrill through the whole British empire. Men familiar with India, her history, and her people, could not believe the news. It was the heaviest blow to British prestige in India since the tragedy of the Black Hole in Calcutta. A century of European civilisation had been swamped by a mutiny of Asiatic sepoys against greased cartridges. Delhi was lost; the Mogul régime was restored; the North-West Provinces were slipping away from the British empire.
Reviving hopes.
The public mind was greatly agitated by the disaster. Many could not realise the fact that Delhi had revolted; that the old king had been proclaimed Padishah of Hindustan. Others rushed to the opposite conclusion and thought that India was lost. In India European hearts were kindled with a burning desire for the recovery of the revolted city. It was hoped that Delhi would be retaken in a few days, and the contagion of mutiny brought to a close by the destruction of the mutineers. Indeed it was obvious to the British authorities that the European forces at Meerut might have crushed the rebellion at the outset, had a Clive, a Gillespie, or an Ochterlony been in command. Sir Henry Lawrence had suppressed a still more dangerous outbreak at Lucknow with a disaffected city in his rear, and the revolt at Delhi ought to be suppressed at once in a like manner.