The Resident felt that he was helpless in his present position, and unable to do anything whatever to prevent the temporary triumph of the insurgents, and the consequent tumult, pillage, and loss of life that must follow; and that it would be better to try any change than to remain in that helpless state.  He thought that he might, if he could once reach the Begum, be able to persuade her of the impossibility of her ultimately succeeding in her attempt to keep the pretender on the throne; and if not, that it would be of advantage to get so much nearer to the place where the British troops most soon arrive, and be drawn up in a garden to the south of the baraduree, and to gain time for their arrival by a personal and open conference with the Begum, during which he thought her followers would not be likely to proceed to violence against his person, and those of his attendants.  He therefore persuaded one of the rebel sentries placed over him to apprize the Begum that he wished to speak to her.  She sent to him Mirza Allee, one of her Wakeels; and with him Captain Shakespear, and the Meer Moonshee, he forced his way through the dense crowd, and got safely into the baraduree.

They found all the four halls, small apartments, and verandahs, leading into them, filled with armed men in a state of great excitement, and in the act of placing the pretender, Moonna Jan, on the throne.  The Begum sat in a covered palankeen at the foot of the throne; and as the Resident entered, the band struck up “God save the King,” answered by a salute of blunderbusses within, and a double royal salute from the guns in the “jullooknana,” or northern court-yard of the palace through which the Begun had passed in.  Other guns, which had been collected in the confusion to salute somebody (though those who commanded and served them knew not whom), continued the salute through the streets without.  A party of dancing-girls, belonging to the late King, or brought up by the Begum, began to dance and sing as loud as they could at the end of the long hall in front of the throne, at the same time that the crowd within and without shouted their congratulations at the top of their voices, and every man who had a sword, spear, musket, or matchlock, flourished it in the air amidst a thousand torches.  A scene more strange and wild it would be difficult to conceive.

In the midst of all this the Resident and his Assistants remained cool under all kinds of foul abuse and threats from a multitude so excited, that they seemed more like demons than human beings, and resolved to force them to commit some act or make use of some expression that might seem to justify their murder.  They fired muskets close to their ears, pointed others loaded and cocked close to their breasts and faces, flourished swords close to their noses, called them all kinds of opprobrious names, but all in vain.  The Resident, in the midst of all this confusion, pointed out to the Begum the impossibility of her