Detective and mystery stories; Holmes, Sherlock (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Private investigators -- England -- Fiction
“As it proved, however, there was no great safety there, either. The
whole country was up like a swarm of bees. Wherever the English could
collect in little bands they held just the ground that their guns
commanded. Everywhere else they were helpless fugitives. It was a fight
of the millions against the hundreds; and the cruellest part of it was
that these men that we fought against, foot, horse, and gunners, were
our own picked troops, whom we had taught and trained, handling our own
weapons, and blowing our own bugle-calls. At Agra there were the 3rd
Bengal Fusiliers, some Sikhs, two troops of horse, and a battery of
artillery. A volunteer corps of clerks and merchants had been formed,
and this I joined, wooden leg and all. We went out to meet the rebels
at Shahgunge early in July, and we beat them back for a time, but our
powder gave out, and we had to fall back upon the city.
“Nothing but the worst news came to us from every side,—which is not to
be wondered at, for if you look at the map you will see that we were
right in the heart of it. Lucknow is rather better than a hundred miles
to the east, and Cawnpore about as far to the south. From every point
on the compass there was nothing but torture and murder and outrage.
“The city of Agra is a great place, swarming with fanatics and fierce
devil-worshippers of all sorts. Our handful of men were lost among the
narrow, winding streets. Our leader moved across the river, therefore,
and took up his position in the old fort at Agra. I don’t know if any
of you gentlemen have ever read or heard anything of that old fort. It
is a very queer place,—the queerest that ever I was in, and I have been
in some rum corners, too. First of all, it is enormous in size. I
should think that the enclosure must be acres and acres. There is a
modern part, which took all our garrison, women, children, stores, and
everything else, with plenty of room over. But the modern part is
nothing like the size of the old quarter, where nobody goes, and which
is given over to the scorpions and the centipedes. It is all full of
great deserted halls, and winding passages, and long corridors twisting
in and out, so that it is easy enough for folk to get lost in it. For
this reason it was seldom that any one went into it, though now and
again a party with torches might go exploring.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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