Not many British officers in native regiments were so fortunate. Colonel Carmichael-Smyth managed to escape from his bungalow, and to warn the Commissioner and the General of the outbreak; then, as Field Officer of the week, he joined Brigadier Wilson on the artillery parade-ground. But the two officers whom he was entertaining to dinner that evening, the Surgeon-Major and the Veterinary Surgeon, tried to get away in a buggy and were both shot, the latter fatally. Several other officers were murdered by ruffians from the bazaar, including John MacNabb whose mangled body could only be identified by his friend, Hugh Gough, because of its height and the curious silk braid on the alpaca coat.
Mrs Muter, the wife of a captain in the 60th Rifles, had driven to church as usual; and, while waiting for the service to begin, she had sat in her pony carriage outside the church door, her back to the cantonments, watching the sun sinking 'in a blaze of fiery heat' beneath the baked plain, unaware of the horrifying scenes behind her. It was not until she was on her way home that she realized her life was in danger. But the throngs of shouting natives were so busy throwing stones at two wounded European artillerymen that they paid no attention to her carriage which she drove past them as fast as the ponies would take it. At her bungalow she found her frightened servants clustered round the door. The khansaman, protesting that he could no longer be responsible for the safety of her silver, begged her to take it back into her own charge and to run away with it and hide, a proposal which, so she proudly claimed, she 'regarded as an insult'. She did, however, allow the khansaman and the nightwatchman to escort her to the quarter-guard where they left her, with several other women, under the protection of some European soldiers before returning to her bungalow to break open various cases which had been packed and sealed for an intended departure to the hills.
Tuesday, April 7, 2020
Mrs Muter, the wife of a captain in the 60th Rifles, had driven to church as usual
From The Great Mutiny by Christopher Hibbert. Page 83.
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