ke, R.A._]

Norman and I obtained permission to accompany Outram and Havelock back
to the Residency. It was intensely but painfully interesting to visit
this scene of so many acts of heroism, and of so much suffering
endured with unexampled fortitude. We first went to the posts occupied
by Havelock's force in the Chatta Manzil, and in other buildings which
have long since disappeared. At one of these we stopped to watch the
Artillery trying to silence the enemy's guns on the opposite side of
the river. We talked to the men, who were keen to hear news from the
outer world and the story of our advance. It was some little time
before we discovered in one of them the Commander of the battery,
Captain William Olpherts,[9] for in his soiled and torn summer
clothing, his face thin, worn, and begrimed with smoke, it was
difficult to distinguish the officer from his men, and it was under
these levelling circumstances that I had the honour of making the
acquaintance of my distinguished brother officer, whose audacious
courage on the occasion of Havelock's advance over the Charbagh bridge
had won the admiration of everyone in the force, and gained for him
the Victoria Cross.

We next came to the Bailey-guard; and as we looked at the battered
walls and gateway, not an inch without a mark from a round shot or
bullet, we marvelled that Aitken and Loughman could have managed to
defend it for nearly five months. There was plenty of evidence on all
the surrounding buildings of the dangerous nature of the service which
they and their gallant Native comrades had so admirably performed.
Although we were pressed for time, we could not resist stopping to
speak to some of the Native officers and sepoys, whose magnificent
loyalty throughout the siege was one of the most gratifying features
of the Mutiny.

At length we came to the Residency itself, where we met a few old
friends and acquaintances, who welcomed us with the most touching
enthusiasm. Mrs. (afterwards Lady) Inglis and the Rev. J.P. Harris and
his wife I had known at Peshawar; there were also Mrs. Fletcher Hayes,
the widow of the poor fellow whose murder by the men of his own escort
near Mainpuri I have related, and Mrs. Case, the widow of the brave
Major of the 32nd, who lost his life at the affair of Chinhut. Mrs.
Inglis showed us the tiny room which she and her children had shared
with Mrs. Case all through the siege; but it was difficult to get any
of them to speak of their