On the morning of the 6th I had a strange duty to discharge for such a time--the marriage of a couple. One of our native Christians had arranged for his marriage taking place at that date. I told him that this was no time for marrying; that we who were married must abide with our families, but that those who were intending marriage should defer it to a more propitious season. He said all was arranged, and he begged me to officiate, which I did, I must say, with a bad grace. No sooner was the marriage over than I went home. After breakfast and family worship, we each betook ourselves, thoroughly worn out, to our rooms to obtain some rest. Scarcely had I lain down on my couch, when our faithful watchman came to my door and exclaimed, "If you do not go at once to the Mint you will all be killed." I asked him what was the matter. He could not tell me. He could only say, "Fly, fly." The refugee lady who, with her family, was with us, hearing the watchman's words, exclaimed, "Oh, Mr. Kennedy, do not leave us!" to which I replied, "Depend on it, I will not. Rather than that, I myself will remain behind." Our conveyance was speedily made ready, and off we started, with such a crowded coach as has been seldom seen, I, as driver, urging the poor overladen horse to his utmost speed. Natives as well as Europeans were seized with panic. There was a stream, then in full flood, close to our house, and I saw several natives throw themselves into it to swim across, at the imminent risk of their lives. As we crossed one of the great roads leading to the city, the natives were running as if pursued by demons. Right before us we saw an English lady running towards the Mint, with her bare head in the sun, which had now come out in its strength. A gentleman in a buggy drove past us, pulled in reins, the lady leaped into it, and they dashed on to the place of refuge. On reaching the Mint we found most of the Europeans there before us. I accosted a friend and said, "What does this mean?" He told us how the impression had gone out that the enemy were on us, and how the panic might have been prevented if information of the state of affairs had been given. There was danger. The host coming against us had, with characteristic procrastination, put off the attack till the morning. To prevent their approach to the city, every man and gun that could be spared were sent out to meet them.
Opinion Brief
Life and Work in Benares and Kumaon, 1839-1877 — Part 115
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