I had no chance to answer her; for at this point Mr Holwell began to speak to the prisoners, exhorting them by all they held dear, and by the ready obedience they had shown him in so many perils that day, to behave with calmness and moderation, and not make their situation worse by giving way to frenzy. Having succeeded in obtaining some semblance of quietness, the good gentleman, from the window where he sat, called to the guards outside, offering them huge sums of money if they would remove half the prisoners to some other chamber, and so wrought upon them that one of them, I believe, departed to consult the Nabob’s pleasure in the matter. After this, different plans were suggested for lessening the closeness of the room. The gentlemen stripped off their coats and waistcoats (such of them as had ’em on), and sitting down upon the floor, used their hats for fans, being so closely wedged together that they could scarcely rise, and many that were weak with their wounds dying in that position through sheer want of strength.
But to the closeness of the atmosphere and the suffocating heat was now added a new torment, for all were seized with the most frightful thirst imaginable, crying out for “Water! water!” in a heart-rending manner. The Jemmautdar who had gone away was now returned, saying that the Nabob was asleep, and he durst not wake him; but being of a more humane temper than his fellows, this man ordered several skins of water (these serve as bottles) to be brought to the bars of the window where Mr Holwell sat, and the sight of this relief appeared to turn all the sufferers into maniacs, fighting with each other for the very smallest portion. The gentlemen on the window-sill, passing their hats through the bars, and bringing them back filled with water, did their utmost to supply every one; but the quantity thus obtained was so small, and so much was spilt, that few received as much as a drop. Nevertheless, the mere thought of water had so great an effect on me that I entreated Captain Colquhoun with tears to suffer me to leave my place and struggle towards the other window; but he refused me with the greatest sternness, saying that my only chance of life was here, and held me fast when I would have slipped away from him and the sergeant. And all this time the malicious wretches outside were holding lights close to the bars, that they might the more conveniently watch the fighting that took place over the meagre pittance of water, and gloat upon our agonies. Just at this moment, as I remember, poor Mr Eyre came staggering out of the struggling throng at the other window, and seeing us, paused in his design of seeking some quiet corner in which to expire.
“Why, Captain, how d’ye do?” he cried, with his usual good humour, “and Miss too, as I live! Good evening to you, good evening, madam!”
Such a greeting in such a situation seemed to me so comical that as the unfortunate gentleman went on his way I began to laugh, in a wild sort of style, and with no mirth in it, as you’ll guess, Amelia, but stopped short when the Captain clapped his hand upon my mouth.
“For Heaven’s sake, madam, be quiet!” he shouted in my ear, “or we shall have ’em all yelling like fiends in another minute, and en’t we yet sufficiently humiliated in the eyes of the Moors?”
I had no strength to answer, and stood leaning against the wall, held up only by the efforts of the Captain and Sergeant Jones from falling among the bodies that were heaped upon the floor, when I should never have risen again. Mr Holwell was gone now from his place at the other window, but whether sunk down through weakness or dragged away by force I don’t know, and most of the gentlemen and the wounded officers were dead, leaving only the common men, whose superior strength (and, I fear I must add, their hardness of heart in striking down those that stood before them) enabled them to hold by main force the points from which they could obtain a little air. I saw the crowd of struggling wretches in the light of the lamps held by the guards, I heard the cries, shouts, groans, prayers, imprecations, which ascended in a horrible confusion, but ’twas all as if I was in a dream. The only thing I could think of was that if I did not have water to cure my raging thirst I should die, but by this time I was beyond the power of calling for it. Presently I found the Captain shaking me and bidding me keep up heart, and learned that I had swooned on his shoulder, but the only answer I could make to his exhortations was to form with my lips the word “Water!”
“And you shall have it, madam!” he cried, with the only oath I ever heard him utter, and snatching the hat from my head (I had dropped the stifling cloak long before), he bade the sergeant support me, and plunged into the shrieking, striving throng. How he succeeded in obtaining the water I don’t know, but presently I saw him returning, holding the hat high above his head, while on every side were frantic hands stretched out to tear it from him, and dying men grovelled at his feet, imploring him for the love of Heaven to spare them a little drop, but he fought his way through the press without heeding them. He had almost reached us, when several desperate creatures flung themselves upon him and tore him down, but not before he had hurled the hat towards me. The sergeant seized it, and dashed a few precious drops into my mouth, then relinquished it perforce to the frenzied crowd that rushed upon us. Of the Captain I saw no more. Alas, my dear! unlike King David of old, your Sylvia was base enough to drink the water that had cost the blood of the noble gentleman that brought it to her, and she owes to it, questionless, the preservation of her unhappy life.
The next thing I remember is a struggle for the possession of our window, in which the sergeant raised me in his arms and set me for a moment upon the sill, but only for a moment, for I was torn down in an instant, my clothes in ribbons, while a huge black man, a corporal of our garrison, planted himself in my place. With an extraordinary agility and strength the sergeant saved me from being trampled to death on the floor, and assisted me to stand up. But I was weary of the struggle, and death was the only thing I desired.
“Let me die!” I cried to the sergeant, “let me die quietly,” and the worthy man, seeing the whole window now blocked so that no air could come through it, dragged me along by the side wall towards the platform at the back of the prison. On reaching it, we found the corpses piled there in heaps, and among them (oh, Amelia, I can scarcely write it) was good Mr Bellamy lying dead, his hand clasped fast in that of his dead son. Sure you’ll think that I, who had that night been bereaved of the best of fathers, and had seen my esteemed protector struck down in trying to succour me, could have no sorrow left, but the sight of the venerable divine, by whose wise counsels I had so often benefited, and the gallant young gentleman with whom I had danced and talked and laughed, lying there dead hand in hand, overcame me all at once. Something seemed to break in my head, a great cry burst from me, and I fell forward upon that dreadful heap, and knew no more.