supplies for the mutineers crossed over to the city. On the very day of
our arrival the mutinous Bareilly Brigade of infantry and artillery,
numbering over 3,000 men, marched across this bridge. Our advanced
picket at the Metcalfe House stables, close to the Jumna, heard
distinctly their bands playing "Cheer, boys, cheer!" the very same tune
with which we had celebrated our entrance into camp that morning.

Few cities in the world have passed through such vicissitudes as Delhi.
Tradition says it was the capital of an empire ages before the great
Macedonian invaded India, and its origin is lost in the mists of
antiquity. Traces there were in every direction, amid the interminable
cluster of ruins and mounds outside the present city, of cities still
more vast, the builders and inhabitants of which lived before the dawn
of history.

Delhi had been taken and sacked times out of number. Its riches were
beyond compare; and for hundreds of years it had been the prey, not only
of every conqueror who invaded India from the north-west, but also of
every race which, during the perpetual wars in Hindostan, happened for
the time to be predominant. Tartars, Turks, Afghans, Persians, Mahrattas
and Rajpoots, each in turn in succeeding ages had been masters of the
city. There had been indiscriminate massacres of the populace, the last
by Nadir Shah, the King of Persia in 1747, when 100,000 souls were put
to death by his order, and booty to a fabulous amount was carried away.
Still, notwithstanding the vicissitudes of fortune through which it had
passed, Delhi was, in 1857, one of the largest, most beautiful, and
certainly the richest city in Hindostan. We knew well that there was
wealth untold within the walls, and our hearts were cheered even at this
time when we thought of the prize-money which would fall to our share at
the capture of the rebellious city.