Friday, October 16th. All comforted by getting a grand breakfast of beefsteaks, a little rice, and dal and chupatties. During this morning Mr. D——, of the 53rd N.I., who had survived the massacre at Cawnpore, called and gave us full particulars of the whole affair; poor Mrs. J——, of the 53rd N.I. (she and I were brides together in Delhi), died in the entrenchments, and he was killed in the boats, but nothing was known about their children. At the commencement of their siege they had only 300 fighting men—soldiers, shopkeepers, and all included—and 400 women, and about 200 children. General W—— did not make the entrenchment at the magazine, because he had no idea that there was any ammunition in it; he thought it was filled with old tents, &c., whereas a great portion of the ammunition brought against us came from there, besides what was expended by the enemy at Cawnpore. This seems hardly credible in a General of Division, but I believe it is correct. Mr. D—— was in the only boat that got away; they pursued and fired at them, then the boat struck on a sandbank, and they took to the water, and their numbers were eventually reduced to four, who were sheltered by a small Rajah until General Havelock's force arrived at Cawnpore, when they joined it. He said, he had to swim and wade six and a half miles after he left the boat.
Saturday, October 17th. My busy day. We had had a slight attack during the night. Two letters came from Cawnpore, giving accounts of our reinforcements. They will not be here quite so soon as was expected. The 93rd are to be at Cawnpore on the 23rd instant, and the 23rd on the 2nd of November. Sir Colin Campbell is coming over here himself with the troops. I trust they will not delay it too long; for, famine is too horrible to contemplate. Our daily rations of meat are now 12 oz. for a man, 6 oz. for a woman, and 2 oz. for a child, and this is bone inclusive, which is sometimes nearly half; and we have had 9 lbs. (the ration for our party for one day) of which 5 lbs. was actually bone. Then seventeen of us (some choosing to have their rations separate) have 15 lbs. of unsifted flour for our chupatties, 6 lbs. of gram to be made into dal (this is private store food, generally given to horses), 1 lb. 12 oz. of rice, and a little salt. We generally make a stew of the meat and rice and a few chupatties, as it goes farther; but I think the gentlemen generally get up from table hungry. We have still a little tea, but neither sugar, milk, wine, nor beer; our beverage is toast and water, a large jug of which is always placed on the centre of the table; it is made of the old chuppatties, if any are left of the previous day. All horses under 150 rupees value were, by orders, destroyed at the river yesterday, as they were eating up the gram.
Sunday, October 18th. Charlie came at 3 P.M. to service, and was much amused to hear we were going to have a sparrow-curry for dinner. Dr. F—— had shot 150 sparrows for it; most pronounced it very delicious, but I could not be induced to try it. I agreed with Charlie to pay Mrs. B—— a visit, as I had not seen her since the Major's death; so I went with Dr. P—— to the Brigade Mess, and Charlie met me there. I also saw Mrs. P——, who looked very haggard and worn—worse than Mrs. B——. The ladies at the Brigade Mess are all living in dirty little rooms, in a large square; Mrs. P——'s had only one opening, serving as entrance door, window, and all. They say the rats are horrible; and I should think centipedes and scorpions also. At night we had a grand attack, principally at the Cawnpore battery, Mr. G——'s, and the Brigade Mess. The firing made more noise than ever I remember; the air being now so clear, as it is the commencement of the cold season, the guns reverberate tremendously.
Monday, October 19th. No news till the evening, when letters came in from Cawnpore, saying the Delhi force were within five miles of Cawnpore, but were fighting with Gwalior mutineers, and that the 93rd and 23rd Queen's were very near Cawnpore also.
Tuesday, October 20th. My busy day for rations. I also cut out a coat for Charlie's Sikh subadar, and was fully occupied all day.
Wednesday, October 21st. Our wedding day! so I must give full particulars of it. I rose at half-past 6, and had a cup of tea and chupattie and went to my store room and received and weighed the ottah brought in from grinding, and gave out the wheat for the next day; also our daily rations of ottah, rice, grain, onions, and salt; then acted as laundress to myself; at 10 breakfasted, then finished putting the subadar's coat together, cut out and made a black silk neck-tie for Charlie, and he sent me over a lot of rupees to keep for Mr. G——'s estate. I then read till dinner, which was composed of stewed meat, a little rice and dal, and a chupattie and toast and water. After dinner, Charlie came for me, as we were to spend the rest of the day together. I carried over a cup and saucer, teaspoon and wineglass, the subadar's coat, and a book I had borrowed for Charlie. I found he had got a pint bottle of champagne—his rations for four days at the brigade mess, as sherry and port were all finished. He, however, would have us finish it at the time, toasting our noble selves and our dear ones at home; he had made me with his own hands some sugee cakes with the remains of some sugee I had intended for him while ill. He had not been very successful; however, the will was good. He then went and begged a little milk from one that had that luxury, and I had been presented with a little sugar for the occasion, and having a little cocoa left of bygone days, I contrived to manufacture a very delicious cup, which Charlie pronounced capital, and we thought of the grand dinner we had eaten at the Barrackpore Hotel that night six years; it was a strange contrast to our half rations in a battered garret, but I don't think it made either of us discontented—only thankful that our lives had been so mercifully preserved through such awful scenes! No one can see the battered condition of Charlie's house—an outpost—without feeling that he has been almost miraculously preserved. He walked home with me about half-past 8, and I went to bed.
Thursday, October 22nd. While dressing this morning, firing was distinctly heard in the distance. No news in!
Friday, October 23rd. Distant firing heard again. About 3 in the morning, a messenger came in without letters; he had been obliged to put them down a well. He said the enemy had captured nine of our elephants at Allum Bagh. The day passed quietly.
Saturday, October 24th. No news! After dinner Charlie came, and I returned with him; and I had no sooner arrived than a 24-pounder shot came in! I took tea with him and afterwards came Captain W—— and they examined a Native who had come in. Captain W—— also came. I returned about 8. I always walk very quickly, both going and coming; but I cannot get over the imaginative sensation of having a bullet between my shoulders.
Sunday, October 25th. The General came and told us he expected the Madras column was close to Allum Bagh; he had received no letters, but a Native had come in. Charlie came to service at 3. The day passed quietly.