ty at one end. We
will leave our carriage to go slowly along to the far end, where the
road winds up, and we ourselves will scramble up at this side till we
gain the Mutiny Memorial, a Gothic tower rising in many stages like a
church spire. We can mount the steps inside to see the view. It is worth
it, for miles and miles of country lie spread before us from this
height.

I don't want to go into details of history, but if ever there is a place
where history was made it is here. On this ridge for months was camped
the British army, including some loyal native regiments, and all the
time they never wavered in their determination to retake Delhi, then in
the hands of the natives. Our men could not be said to besiege the city,
because to besiege means to sit down all round a place and prevent the
inhabitants from getting supplies from outside until they are compelled
to give in or are too weak to resist the entrance of the besiegers; we
never invested Delhi in this way. There were not enough men even to
attempt it; the natives could always get supplies into the city, if they
wanted, from the river Jumna, which runs past the other side. But the
British sat steadily on their heights in grim determination, and never
lost the chance of a move. They died in hundreds; remember it was during
an Indian summer, and even under the best conditions, with ice and
punkahs and shade, the European finds it hard to get through the hot
weather. Here there were no conveniences and very few even of what might
be considered necessaries. The men suffered from dysentery, fever,
wounds, and sunstroke, and yet they carried through their forlorn hope
triumphantly, and it was hardly a year later that the Queen of England
was proclaimed Sovereign of India.

In that great plain, which stretches far as eye can see on the other
side of the ridge, some twenty years later another proclamation was
made, and the Queen was further proclaimed under the title of Empress of
India; while in 1911 her grandson, King George, himself proclaimed Delhi
as the capital of India in place of Calcutta.

Over the screen of trees you can see beautiful Delhi lying within its
hoary walls. You can see the towers and steeples and minarets and domes
of the city. Now look the other way, along the ridge. That great pillar
close to us is very old; it was made by one of the Hindu kings, but it
was only put up here ten years after the Mutiny, and is not
interesting. That white house