It was on the morning of the 25th of September that Lucknow was actually reached. At the Charbagh Palace, near the bridge, the 78th Highlanders were left to hold that position, while the main body threaded its way through the narrow, tortuous lanes leading to the Residency, and here Surgeon Jee and Assistant-Surgeon McMaster quickly found work for their hands. All the streets and houses in the vicinity were strongly occupied by mutineers. Desperate charges had to be made to carry the rebel guns which poured a devastating fire upon our troops, and though the cannon were captured and toppled over into the canal, the casualties were exceedingly heavy. While the wounded remained to receive attention from the busy doctors, the regiment, following up its last attack, disappeared round the bend of the canal, and Jee and his assistants found themselves suddenly exposed to the enemy’s fire. Having obtained some men to act as bearers, the surgeon got his patients lifted up and carried to where a few dhoolies were. These were filled in no time, one of them by Captain Havelock, son of the General, who was badly hit in the arm; the rest of the wounded were placed in carts drawn by bullocks. The latter, however, met with a heartrending fate ere they had gone far; for the sick train coming to a standstill in the road where it was blocked, all the occupants of the carts were massacred by sepoys before their comrades’ eyes. The regiment was caught up at last, and a company under Captain Halliburton detailed to guard the dhoolies. But misfortune dogged the little party’s steps. They lost their way in the city, were led by a blundering guide right into an enemy’s battery, which shelled them mercilessly, and wandered about for hours continually under fire, until they took refuge in the Moti-Mahal (the Pearl Palace). Here was a square courtyard having sheds all round it and two gateway entrances. As it was already packed with soldiers, camp followers and camels, the surgeons were hard put to it to find accommodation for their wounded. Of the horrors of that night Surgeon Jee has told us in his own words. The firing was deafening, gongs were sounding the hours, while there was a hubbub of shouting through which the groans of the wounded could nevertheless be heard. An alarming rumour came that all the 78th had been killed, and, what added to the terrors of the situation, no one knew how far off the Residency was. But Jee stuck to his post, and many a poor fellow lived through that inferno to bless the brave, tender-hearted doctor to whom he owed his life.