I have now to tell how we passed through that night, the memory of which to this day moves me to tremble and sicken like a man in strong fear.

At sunset the Moorish soldiers who had charge of the prisoners marched us all together into a covered gallery or verandah that ran along one side of the courtyard, from which it was screened off by a row of arches. While we waited here a part of the soldiers ran to and fro, as if looking for accommodation for us. Surajah Dowlah’s promises, reported to us by Mr. Holwell, had so far raised our spirits that some of the prisoners made merry at the difficulty the guard seemed to be in. One man asked if we were to pass the night in that gallery. Another, who stood near me, observed in jest—

“They don’t seem to know of the Black Hole.”

“I’m afraid we shouldn’t all go into that,” replied another, laughing.

“What place do you mean?” I asked out of curiosity.

[Pg 153]

“It is the cell where they confine the soldiers of the garrison,” explained the person next me. “It won’t hold more than one or two persons.”

Hardly had he given me this information before the officer in charge of our guard came hurrying up. He gave some directions to his men, who commenced pushing and urging us along the gallery to a small door in the wall at our back. This they threw open, and beckoned to the prisoners to enter.

“By heaven, it is the Black Hole!” exclaimed some one in the throng.

There was a murmur of disbelief, followed by one of indignation, as those who were in front looked in. The room was barely seven paces across each way, and very low. The only openings it contained, beside the doorway, were two small windows giving, not on to the open air, but merely on to the covered passage in which we had been standing.

“But this is absurd!” cried Mr. Holwell, remonstrating with the soldiers. “There is not even standing-room for a hundred and fifty persons in there.”

“They cannot intend that we are all to go in. We should be suffocated,” said another.

The soldiers beginning to show anger, some of the company walked in to demonstrate how restricted the space was. Nevertheless the Moors continued to press us towards the doorway, and seeing that they were in earnest, I whispered to Marian to give me her arm, and went in with the first. By this [Pg 154]means I was just in time to secure Marian a place at the corner of one of the windows, where she would have a chance to breathe. I took up my position next to her, and we were quickly surrounded and closely pressed on by those who followed. Before we had well realised what was happening to us, the whole of the prisoners had been thrust into the cell, and the door, which opened inwards, pulled to with a slam and locked.

The moment this happened I found myself bursting out into a most prodigious sweat—the water running out of my skin as though squeezed from a sponge—by the mere press of people in that confined space; and near as I stood to the window I soon began to experience a difficulty in breathing, so foul did the air immediately become. The sufferings of those further back in the apartment must of course have been much worse. The door was no sooner closed than those next to it began to make frantic efforts to open it again; but we were so closely packed that, even if the door had not been locked, it would have been scarcely possible to open it wide enough to allow of any persons going through. Every mind seemed to become at once possessed with a sense of our desperate situation, and the groans and cries for mercy became heartrending.

Mr. Holwell, having been the first to enter, had been fortunate enough to secure a place at the other window. He now exerted himself, as the leader of the party, to calm the tumult.

[Pg 155]

“Gentlemen,” he said earnestly, “let me urge you to keep still. The only hope for us in this emergency is to behave quietly, and do what we can to relieve each other’s sufferings. I will use my endeavours with the guard to procure our release, and in the meantime do you refrain from giving way to despair.”

It was now dark within the room, but outside some of the guards had lit torches, by whose light I distinguished one old man, a Jemautdar, who appeared a little touched with pity for our distress. To this man Mr. Holwell appealed, through the window, offering him large rewards if he would have us transferred to some more tolerable prison. At first the old Moor merely shook his head, but finally, when Mr. Holwell offered him a thousand rupees if he would remove even half the prisoners to another room, he shrugged his shoulders, muttered that he would see what could be done, and walked off.

During the few minutes which had already elapsed since our coming into the cell, the heat had increased to that degree as to be no longer tolerable. My skin and throat felt as though scorched by fire, and the atmosphere was so noxious that it became painful to breathe. I looked at Marian. She was very white, and stood moving her lips silently as though praying. Being the only female among us, those immediately round the window showed some desire to respect her weakness, but the pressure [Pg 156]from behind was such that they were driven against her, in spite of themselves, and I had hard work to defend her from being crushed against the wall.

But when I glanced back into the room the sights revealed by the flickering torchlight convinced me that our sufferings were almost light in comparison with those of others. I saw one man, a few paces behind me, turn purple in the face, as if some one were strangling him. Two or three others had already fainted from the heat, and I heard some one whisper that they had fallen to the ground.

The Jemautdar presently returned, shaking his head, and said to Mr. Holwell—

“I can do nothing. It is by the Nabob’s orders that you are locked up, and I dare not interfere.”

“But we are dying, man!” cried Mr. Holwell. “The Nabob swore that he would spare our lives. Listen! I will give you two thousand rupees—anything—if you will procure us some relief!”

The old man went off once more, and hope revived for a moment. While we were thus waiting some one at the back of the room suddenly said aloud—

“Let us take off our clothes!”

Hardly were the words out of his mouth than in an instant, as it seemed, nearly every one was stark naked. They tore their things off furiously and cast them to the ground. I resisted the contagion as long as I could, but when I saw even Mr. [Pg 157]Holwell, though nearer the air than myself, stripped to his shirt, I could not resist following his example; and in our dreadful extremity my unhappy companion was presently forced to do the same, hiding her face with her hands and choking down great sobs.

When the Jemautdar returned for the second time he made it appear that our case was hopeless.

“No one dares help you,” he said, speaking with evident compunction. “Surajah Dowlah is asleep, and it is as much as any man’s life is worth to awake him.”

As soon as the meaning of these words was understood by the hundred and fifty miserable wretches inside, a pitiful, low wail went up. Then commenced that long, dreadful agony which so few were to survive, and which I only remember in successive glimpses of horror spread over hours that were like years.

One o............