in not advancing a portion, at any rate, of my regiment to the fort at
the time the sepoys broke their ranks and entered the entrenchment. Had
he done so, it is probable that not one of the mutineers of the 45th
Native Infantry would have escaped, nor would the havoc which afterwards
occurred in the cantonment have taken place. But he was an old East
India Company's officer, and had served upwards of forty years in the
native army, having to the last, like many others at that eventful time,
implicit confidence in the loyalty of the sepoys. He feared, also, the
responsibility of letting loose the English soldiery to wreak their
vengeance on the mutineers, knowing too well that, with passions roused
and hearts steeled to pity by the murders and outrages committed at
Meerut, and the late wounding of their field-officer, our men would have
given no quarter. The Brigadier was one of the very few officers in high
command at the outbreak of the Mutiny who were found wanting in the time
of trial. His, no doubt, was a hard task; but, had he shown the smallest
aptitude to meet the crisis, there would have been no difficulty, with
the ample means at his disposal, in disarming without bloodshed the
whole native force at Ferozepore, and so crushing the rebellion at that
station.

Night came, and we still remained in line under arms without having
moved a foot from where we were halted. Conjectures were rife as to what
would next happen. Officers and men were grieved, no less than annoyed,
at the state of inaction in which we had been kept, and an uneasy
feeling prevailed that during the night the mutinous sepoys, aided by
the _badmashes_, or bad characters, who swarmed in the bazaars and city
of Ferozepore, would, under cover of the darkness, run riot over the
cantonment, without our being called on to interfere.

And so, unhappily, it came to pass. The native cavalry at about eight