My three years in Manipur : $b and escape from the recent mutinyGrimwood, Ethel St. Clair
History
My three years in Manipur : $b and escape from the recent mutiny
Grimwood, Ethel St. Clair
Grimwood, Ethel St. Clair, 1867-1928; Manipur (India)
Lieutenant Brackenbury had been discovered lying on the bank of the river
which flowed north of the palace, where he had fallen shortly after the
attack was made early in the morning. He had mistaken the direction,
having got the wrong side of the wall near the Jubraj’s house, from which
point he had been exposed to a heavy fire from the enemy. It was only
a marvel that he was still alive when eventually discovered, for he had
remained where he fell the whole of that day, and the Manipuris had never
ceased firing at him as he lay. When his exact whereabouts did become
known, it was a difficult and dangerous task to remove him. Efforts had
been made by some of the Sepoys to drag him away, and a native officer
had been mortally wounded in the attempt. At last, about four o’clock in
the afternoon, he was rescued and brought into the hospital, and it was
found that he had received terrible injuries, being wounded in several
places.
The sound of the first shell which whizzed over the Residency made me
speechless with terror. I had heard the boom of the guns in the morning,
and knew that they had been used to try and drive Captain Butcher’s party
out of the Jubraj’s house, which had been captured; but they had sounded
some distance off, and I had not realized how terrible they could be
until they were turned against our own house.
The cellars were by this time unavoidable. My husband told me that we
should have to make some sort of rough hospital in one of them, as the
Residency hospital, where the wounded had been taken, was built of
plaster and would not be bullet-proof; so we set to work to get blankets
and sheets down from the house, and everything we thought might be useful.
Meanwhile shells were doing dreadful damage over our heads, and we
were afraid they might set fire to the thatch and force us out of our
temporary shelter. Luckily most of them went over the house into the
garden at the back, where they could not do such serious damage; but the
noise the guns made, added to the other firing, which had never ceased,
was deafening.
There was not the slightest doubt by this time that our position was
about as bad as it could very well be. I seemed paralyzed with fear,
and it was only by forcing myself to do something, and never thinking or
imagining for one moment what the end of it all might be, that I kept
my senses sufficiently to be able to make an effort to help the rest. I
heard that the wounded were to be brought up to the house immediately, as
the hospital was getting too hot for them to remain in it. Poor fellows!
they had endured so much as it was in getting there, that it seemed very
hard to be obliged to move them again so soon, and take them up to the
Residency.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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