Nothing could have been more culpable than the conduct of the Brigadier in not advancing a portion, at any rate, of my regiment to the fort at the time the sepoys broke their ranks and entered the entrenchment.  Had he done so, it is probable that not one of the mutineers of the 45th Native Infantry would have escaped, nor would the havoc which afterwards occurred in the cantonment have taken place.  But he was an old East India Company’s officer, and had served upwards of forty years in the native army, having to the last, like many others at that eventful time, implicit confidence in the loyalty of the sepoys.  He feared, also, the responsibility of letting loose the English soldiery to wreak their vengeance on the mutineers, knowing too well that, with passions roused and hearts steeled to pity by the murders and outrages committed at Meerut, and the late wounding of their field-officer, our men would have given no quarter.  The Brigadier was one of the very few officers in high command at the outbreak of the Mutiny who were found wanting in the time of trial.  His, no doubt, was a hard task; but, had he shown the smallest aptitude to meet the crisis, there would have been no difficulty, with the ample means at his disposal, in disarming without bloodshed the whole native force at Ferozepore, and so crushing the rebellion at that station.

Night came, and we still remained in line under arms without having moved a foot from where we were halted.  Conjectures were rife as to what would next happen.  Officers and men were grieved, no less than annoyed, at the state of inaction in which we had been kept, and an uneasy feeling prevailed that during the night the mutinous sepoys, aided by the badmashes, or bad characters, who swarmed in the bazaars and city of Ferozepore, would, under cover of the darkness, run riot over the cantonment, without our being called on to interfere.

And so, unhappily, it came to pass.  The native cavalry at about eight o’clock marched down to our lines, and drew up on the right of the regiment, the European artillery being on our left flank.

Soon after their arrival the arms were piled and the men fell out of the ranks, some to lie down on the ground, others forming in groups and discussing the strange events of the day.

Suddenly a light was seen in the direction of the cantonment, which quickly turned into a blaze of fire.  What new horror was this?  Were our houses to be gutted and burnt before our eyes without any attempt to prevent such outrage?

The men, at the first appearance of fire, had sprung to their feet and almost involuntarily seized their arms.  Surely a detachment would be sent to clear the cantonment of the incendiaries?  Even this was not done:  the Brigadier was absent, or could not be found, and our Colonel intimated to some officers who spoke to him on the subject that he could give no orders without the chief’s consent.

So, incredible though it may appear, we stood and watched the fires, which followed each other in quick succession till the whole cantonment seemed in a blaze, and the flames, darting up in every direction, lighted up the surrounding country.