There was work enough and to spare to clear the streets and houses in front and on each side of the Kashmir Gate; and from the time the two columns joined forces till night set in a continuous fight was maintained.  The system of attack in which we were engaged allowed of no formation being retained.  Isolated groups of men, European and native, led sometimes by officers, and often without any leaders, roamed through the narrow streets, entering houses from which the fire was more than usually severe, and putting to death without mercy all who were found inside.

On one occasion a party of sepoys and armed rabble emerged from a house in our front, and were seen by our men, who immediately opened fire.  Soon they were followed by a troop of women yelling and screaming.  Keeping these as a cover for their retreat, the rebels got clear away, the soldiers having desisted from firing the moment the women appeared.  This was a ruse which, I heard from others, was often adopted by the mutineers, who seemed to know intuitively that their women and children were safe from the fire of our men.

The deeds of individual daring performed during September 14 were numberless, and I was witness of many feats of arms and cool courage by the rank and file and non-commissioned officers of the different regiments.  A private of my corps, a huge Grenadier Irishman named Moylan, saved the life of an officer under circumstances which fully entitled him to the coveted distinction of the Victoria Cross.  In one of the numerous encounters which took place this officer, leading on a few men, turned sharply round the corner of a street, and was met by a force of sepoys coming from the opposite direction.  A shot struck him, and he was felled to the ground from the blow of a sword, and would have been quickly despatched had not Moylan rushed to his rescue.  Discharging his musket, he shot one of the assailants, and charged with the bayonet.  This was broken off; and then, with firelock clubbed, he stood over the prostrate officer, dealing such fearful blows with the weapon—­felling his foes in every direction—­that the sepoys took to their heels, and Moylan, picking up the wounded officer, brought him to a place of safety.  He was made a sergeant on the spot by the Colonel, but all efforts to obtain the Cross for this gallant fellow were unavailing.  In those days the distinction was but seldom given; probably so many names were submitted for the General’s consideration that only a few could be approved, and the application for Moylan was passed by.

But though in the latter’s case the Victoria Cross was not given, it was awarded to a surgeon (named Reade) of my regiment on that day.  He was ever to be found in the thick of the fighting, ministering to the wounded and cheering on the men.  While engaged in his professional duties, a number of sepoys poured a deadly fire from the far end of a street into the group of wounded of which he was the central figure.  This was too much for the surgeon, who, drawing his sword, called on some men of the regiment close by, and led them in gallant style against the enemy, whom he dispersed with great loss, killing two sepoys with his own hand.  Not only on this occasion, but on several others, the surgeon’s bravery was most conspicuous, no one grudging him the distinction he had so gallantly won.