August 1857 dawned in the Ridge. The drenching monsoon rain had turned much of the area into a swamp; cholera continued to take its toll and the fighting, unabated, carried on.

Major Charles Reid wrote in his diary, for the 3rd of August:

“The engagement commenced at sunset on the 1st, lasted the whole night, and until 4 p.m. yesterday. The mutineers tried hard to get in our rear. They managed to erect a bridge across the Canal at Bussie, but it was carried away by the flood; their guns were for some time left on one side and their Infantry and Cavalry on the other. This report was sent to me by the General at about 4 p.m. on the 1st. About half an hour later, I saw the whole force returning—guns, mortars, etc.; it was joined by about 3000 or 4000 from the city, and the whole force, in all about 20,000, came straight at my position. I was prepared for them. The General sent up my supports, sharp, as he always does, and we commenced work. The ‘ Sammy House ’ was attacked first by about 5000. At this time, I had only 150 of Coke’s men in it, under Travers, and 50 of the Guides. I at once sent them reinforcements from the Rifles and the 61st (Queen’s).

“At dusk, the enemy brought up their guns, supported by a very large force, and then commenced the sharpest fire I have ever heard on the whole of my position. They were very desperate indeed. Before midnight, we had driven them back a dozen times. The firing then ceased for about a quarter of an hour, and I began to think I had got rid of my friends, but, shortly after, the moon rose, for which they apparently had been waiting, and up came fresh troops from the city, bugling and shouting on all sides. I passed the word from right to left to allow the enemy to come up close and to keep a dead silence in the ranks. On came the enemy with their light guns, up the Grand Trunk Road, as also up the Kishanganj Road. My three light guns, which were in Battery across the road, were all loaded with grape, and when the enemy were close up, they opened fire. Round after round, with volleys of musketry from the Sammy House, had the effect of driving them back again. Still, there they were, within four hundred yards of me, making preparations for another attack, whilst their light guns kept up one continuous blaze, as also their heavy guns from the Mori and Burn Bastions. This sort of thing went on the whole night: 900 men against at least 20,000! My troops behaved admirably; all were steady and well in hand, and 1 never for one moment had any doubt about the results.

“At daybreak, more troops were seen in the Kishanganj buildings, and on they came again at the Sammy House. I accordingly sent Sir E. Campbell with a Company of the 60th Rifles to reinforce the troops at that post. At 8 a.m., they gave us time to get a little breakfast, but before 9 o’clock on they came again, and it was not before 5 p.m. last evening that I had the satisfaction of seeing them in full retreat, guns and all. Thus ended the great attack, being number twenty-four on my position ! . . . I have had no return as yet of killed and wounded, and I dread looking at the reports; the enemy’s loss must have been very severe. The escapes I have had are perfectly wonderful! People look at me after every engagement and say, ‘What, are you still unwounded ?’ Thank God for thus sparing me! I hope to keep my old head on my shoulders for some time yet! Anyhow, until I have seen the Imperial City fall! These persevering villains seem determined to wear us out; our spies say they are coming out again; all ready for them!”

In the meantime, Hodson and his spies had acquired quite a reputation on the Ridge. Rumours flew hard and fast regarding his exploits, that he had disguised himself and had gone within the walls of the city, which filled the men on the Ridge with admiration; they watched his exploits with growing enthusiasm.
Although his spies were prone to exaggerating the actual state of the city behind its formidable walls, Hodson was able to correctly ascertain how much damage the force was actually inflicting on the mutineers – although it was never substantiated, it was widely believed when the rebel magazine blew up in August, it was Hodson’s doing. Having reported to him that the mutineers were manufacturing their own powder and informing him it would be possible to blow it up, Hodson supposedly promised the men 1000 rupees if they succeeded. On the 7th of August, the magazine did indeed blow up, but since no one ever returned to claim the reward, it could not be affirmed by anyone that it was Hodson’s doing. For his part, he does not mention it in any letters.

Delhi Quarrels

The state of affairs within the walls was anything but tranquil. The sepoys of the various mutinied regiments, instead of covering themselves in glory, were reduced to squabbling for pay with the king, and as August rolled along, they became harder and harder for General Bakht Khan to control. When he complained to the king, he replied the general should send them away. Meanwhile, Bahadur Shah, his coffers emptying faster than he could fill them, was disgusted at his impromptu army. They had failed to take the Ridge, they had not even come close to securing him the victory he had envisioned. With 60’000 men at his disposal, they had not even “won a clod of dirt from the English.” while the ever-enthusiastic Jihadis complained they were the only people who were earnestly fighting the English, everyone else were like “people sitting down and making no exertions.” Meanwhile, the explosion of the magazine only added to Bahadur Shah’s worries – rumours soon flew around Delhi that he had orchestrated it in an attempt to kill off the sepoys. In their turn, they decided to attack the king, plunder his house and take his head instead. Nothing came of it.

The harassment of the citizens of Delhi continued unrelentingly. One day, as an excuse to plunder their houses, they were accused of harbouring Englishmen; on another, they were accused of spying for the English. Extortion was the last resort, with several citizens rounded up in August and told they were to pay up or face imprisonment. The residents of Sabzi Mandi had had enough and sent a petition of their own to Theophilus Metcalfe, telling him of their utter destitution, to which Metcalfe had replied they should not fret, for the English would be with them soon.
As for the army, many disillusioned sepoys quietly left the city, abandoning their arms as they headed for home. General Bakht Khan was coming to his wits’ end – unable to convince the king that he was receiving bad advice, he proclaimed he would no longer run the army but satisfy himself by commanding the Bareilly Brigade, something the King would not hear of. Meanwhile, the sepoys complained they were starving. When the King ordered they be fed, the commissariat officer claimed he could not do so; he had no money.
In all this time, there was no one leading the army. General Bakht Khan was embroiled in petty politics, surrounded by wily courtiers and scheming princes. Jealousy was rife between the various regiments, each one accusing the other of transgressions, of spying, of not pulling its weight, and in the middle of it all sat a King staring at the ruins of his empire.