sounded the
'alarm' and the 'assembly.' The parade was dismissed, and as the
British soldiers rushed to the barracks for their arms and ammunition,
the congregation rapidly dispersed, some to their homes, others to
seek safety in the nearest quarter-guard.
It was the custom before the Mutiny for our soldiers to attend Divine
Service unarmed, save with their side-arms. The Native soldiers were
aware of this, and they no doubt calculated on the 60th Rifles being
safe and almost defenceless inside the church as soon as the bells
ceased tolling. What they were not aware of was the fact that, owing
to the lengthening days and the increasing heat, the evening church
parade had been ordered half an hour later than on the previous
Sunday. The mutineers therefore showed their hand half an hour too
soon, and as they galloped down the 60th Rifles lines they came upon
the men fully armed and rapidly falling in. Being thus disappointed in
their hope of surprising the white soldiers, the 3rd Cavalry proceeded
without a moment's delay to the gaol, broke into the cells, and
released their eighty-five comrades and all the other prisoners, about
1,200 in number.
While this was going on, the two Native Infantry regiments assembled
on their respective parade-grounds in wild excitement, discharging
their muskets at random, and setting fire to their own huts. The
British officers, hearing the tumult, hastened to their lines and did
their best to restore order, but in vain. The sepoys had gone too
far, and were absolutely deaf to threats and entreaties. They did not
attack their own officers, but warned them to get away, telling them
the Company's '_raj_'[4] was at an end. Their clemency, however, did
not extend to officers of other regiments.
Colonel Finnis, who had served forty years with the sepoys, and firmly
believed in their loyalty, was the first victim; he fell riddled with
bullets from a volley fired by the 20th, while exhorting the men of
his own regiment (the 11th) to be true to their salt. The work of
destruction then began in earnest, in which the population from the
bazaars and the neighbouring villages eagerly joined, for (as the
Commissioner reported) they were armed and ready for the onslaught
before the sepoys commenced the attack, plainly showing how perfectly
they were aware of what was about to happen. They poured forth in
thousands from every direction, and in a surprisingly short time
almost every bungalow belon
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