und the town enclosed by a high
loop-holed wall with circular bastions at the four corners and at
regular intervals along the sides, the whole being surrounded by a wet
ditch, while the gateways had been strengthened by palisades. Large
bodies of the enemy's Cavalry hovered about our reconnoitring party,
only to retire as we advanced, apparently not liking the look of the
7th Hussars and 9th Lancers, who formed the General's escort.

After a careful inspection, Hope Grant decided to breach the
north-west angle of the wall, as from a wood near the Infantry could
keep down the fire of the enemy's sharpshooters, and the heavy guns
would be in a measure protected while the walls were being bombarded.
A sufficiently good breach was made in about two hours, and the 53rd
Regiment, having been selected for the honour of leading the assault,
was told to hold itself in readiness. Hope Grant then spoke a few
words of encouragement to the men, and their Colonel (English) replied
on their behalf that they might be depended upon to do their duty. The
signal was given; the Horse Artillery, under Lieutenant-Colonel Frank
Turner, galloped to within grape range of the town, and covered by
their fire the 53rd marched in steadily until they got within 100
yards of the walls, when, with a ringing cheer, they dashed through
the water in the ditch and entered the breach. Hopkins, the plucky
Captain of the light company, was the first inside the walls, followed
closely by Augustus Anson and an adventurous Post-Captain of the Royal
Navy, who, being unemployed, came to see what 'a winter's campaign in
India' was like.[2] There was a good deal of hand-to-hand fighting,
and the enemy lost about 500 men, those who tried to escape being cut
down by the Cavalry outside the walls. We took about the same number
of prisoners, but as none of these were soldiers, and vowed they had
been forced to take up arms against us, the General, as much to their
astonishment as to their delight, ordered them to be set free. Our
losses were small.

Next day we halted while the walls were being destroyed and the
place rendered indefensible. As I was superintending the work of
destruction, the horrors of war were once more brought very forcibly
before me by the appearance of an infirm old man, who besought me to
spare his house, saying: 'Yesterday I was the happy father of five
sons: three of them lie there' (pointing to a group of dead bodies);
'where the other two a