magistrate, Mr. Orr, and Mr. Wyatt, were all murdered, and Dr. Hansbrow, the Governor of the jail, was killed by the convicts, the native jailer helping them. Mr. Laurance, a widower with four children, was made to sit in a chair while his children were executed before his eyes, and then he was killed. Mrs. Aspinall, who lived next to us, with her son and his wife and child were murdered in their garden. It is said the murderers flung the baby, five weeks old, into the air, and cut at it with their swords as it fell. Some of the accounts are too dreadful to repeat. We cannot but hope that many of them were exaggerated. In all they killed forty-seven Christian people, men, women, and children, in Bareilly that day.
As soon as the officers fled, the Sepoys fired their houses, after which they broke open the treasury and took the money; and then, as if possessed with the demon of madness, they went to the jail, broke open the gates, and let loose the criminals. These wretches completed what the Sepoys had begun. The homes of the civilians were sacked and burned. All the gentlemen that had not fled, or were overtaken, were either killed or taken prisoners. The Sepoys then proclaimed the Emperor of Delhi; elected as Nawab Khan Bahadur Khan, who had held the office of Deputy Judge under our friend Judge Robertson, and who so deceived him, as already noticed. It is understood that the prisoners were all brought before the new Nawab next morning, (Judge Robertson, Dr. Hay, and Mr. Raikes being of the number,) and this wretch deliberately condemned them to death by the law of the Koran: “They were infidels, and they must die!” He ordered them to be publicly hanged in front of the jail.
The rebels went to my house, and expressed great regret at not finding me. They are said to have declared they specially wanted me. They then destroyed our little place of worship, and burned my house with its contents. All was lost, save life and the grace of God; but the sympathy and prayers of our beloved Church were still our own, so the loss was not so great after all.
It would be affectation if I were to profess that I was unmoved
