Sir Hugh Wheeler could do nothing.  He might have retreated with the whole body of Europeans from Cawnpore to Allahabad; but there had been a mutiny at Allahabad, and, moreover, he had no means of transport.  Subsequently he heard that the mutineers had reached the first stage on the road to Delhi, and consequently he saw no ground for alarm.

Meanwhile the brain of Nana Sahib had been turned by wild dreams of vengeance and sovereignty.  He thought not only to wreak his malice upon the English, but to restore the extinct Mahratta Empire, and reign over Hindustan as the representative of the forgotten peshwas.  The stampede of the sepoys to Delhi was fatal to his mad ambition.  He overtook the mutineers, dazzled them with fables of the treasures in Wheeler’s intrenchment, and brought them back to Cawnpore to carry out his vindictive and visionary schemes.

At early morning on Saturday, June 6th, General Wheeler received from Nana a letter announcing that he was about to attack the intrenchment.  The veteran was taken by surprise, but at once ordered all the European officers to join the party in the barracks and prepare for the defence.  But the mutineers were in no hurry for the advance.  They preferred booty to battle, and turned aside to plunder the cantonment and city, murdering every Christian that came in their way, not sparing the houses of their own countrymen.  They appropriated all the cannon and ammunition in the magazine by way of preparation for the siege; but some were wise enough to desert the rebel army and steal to their homes with their ill-gotten spoil.

About noon the main body of the mutineers, swelled by the numerous retainers of Nana, got their guns into position, and opened fire on the intrenchment.  For nineteen days—­from June 6th to the 25th—­the garrison struggled manfully against a raking fire and fearful odds, amid scenes of suffering and bloodshed that cannot be recalled without a shudder.

It was the height of the hot weather in Hindustan.  A blazing sun was burning over the heads of the besieged; and to add to their misery, one of the barracks containing the sick and wounded was destroyed by fire.  The besiegers, however, in spite of their overwhelming numbers, were utterly unable to carry the intrenchment by storm, but continued to pour in a raking fire.  Meanwhile the garrison was starving from want of provisions, and hampered by a multitude of helpless women and children.  Indeed, but for the latter contingency, the gallant band would have rushed out of the intrenchment and cut a way through the mob of sepoys or perished in the attempt.  As it was, they could only fight on, waiting for reinforcements that never came, until fever, sunstroke, hunger, madness, or the enemy’s fire delivered them from their suffering and despair.