“It was a lovely night, and by the time that all were assembled, the moon had risen, and the grounds and garden were light almost as day; every room of the house was filled with occupants; in one a bevvy of children of every size, age and disposition, the sleepy, the cross, the silent and the squalling, were stretched in every conceivable attitude on the floor. In another, a group of nervous ladies scarcely knowing what to apprehend! Strange ayahs were stealing to and fro with noiseless step, and bearing unintelligible bundles, agitated gentlemen, cool gentlemen and fussy gentlemen, gentlemen with guns and swords, were holding consultation in groups; outside the house, a body of Nujeebs…were assembled…while a small party of Holmes’s troopers were ready mounted near the door; the rattling of carriages, the screaming of children, men’s hoarse voices, servant’s shouting – formed on the entrance side of the house, a babel of confusion; on the garden side, our daughters, with some other girls and the juveniles among the gentlemen, in spite of the hubbub and ignorant of any real danger, were enjoying the open walks and moonlit grass of the garden, and somewhat scandalised the more nervous portion of the assemblage with their laughter and merriment…all was strange, unusual and exciting.”

We left Mr William Tayler with his house full of civilians, protected only by Major Nation’s Najibs, who had until quite recently been in touch with the sepoys in Dinapore and a few cavalry troopers. His only hope was one more message he sent to Captain Rattray and his Sikhs, who were still 30 miles away.
The message was sent frantically in an ekka instead of by a dak runner in the hope the carriage would reach Rattray before any mischief could take place. Assembled as they were in one place, Tayler grimly felt the Najeebs, should they feel so inclined, make short work of the Europeans in Patna. His worry was if the regiments of Dinapore arrived before Rattray did, the fidelity the Najeebs had shown would be too severely tested. It was, in his estimation, simply a matter of time, and this was running short.
Captain Rattray, on his part, had received all of Tayler’s messages, and this last one prompted him to turn what should have been an easy march to Patna into a forced one. He arrived at Tayler’s house “in his picturesque dress and long boots” at four in the morning.
At dawn, Tayler sent the cordon of house guests home; Patna, for now, was safe.

The Treatment of Rattray’s Sikhs
In the morning, Captain Rattray was able to apprise Tayler of how the situation was in the countryside, and his news was far from heartening. Along the way, instead of being held in awe at all by the country folk, they were taunted as being traitors of their faith and repeatedly asked if they intended to fight for the infidels or their religion. Upon entering Patna itself, they were accosted by a “wild-looking fakeer” who rushed into the road and, with “savage menaces and threatening gestures, reviled them as traitors and accursed.” Matters were not helped with the high priest of the Sikh temple refusing admittance to the men of Rattray’s regiment, turning them away from the gurdwara with oaths on their heads.
It was imperative then to move the Rattray’s men as far from the townsfolk as possible, moving their camp from the Collectors’ Cutchery to the grounds of the circuit house by the banks of the river on the west end of Bankipore. The subedar of the regiment, Hedayut Ali, was particularly pleased with this arrangement – he had heard several men in the town purporting the Company’s Raj to be at an end and that the true king had been re-established in Delhi. It was a sore trial for Rattray’s men to suffer such abuse without being allowed to raise a hand to protect their honour and their new encampment and at least put the townsfolk out of harm’s way of the angry Sikhs. Several incidents of open insolence against the men were brought officially to Tayler’s notice.
The talk was not restricted to Patna. Mr Vincent, Deputy Magistrate at Barh, some 50 miles away, mentioned in a letter to Tayler it was becoming increasingly common to hear coolies on the road talk of the Padshah of Delhi. Tayler and Rattray both agreed this was more than idle talk; someone in Patna was instigating it.
As such, Tayler started his line of private inquiries as discreetly as possible, and soon there came a flutter of petitions to the European residents, not just to Tayler, of conferences held at night in mosques and private houses, but it was still impossible to catch anyone red-handed.
Specific individuals, however, were repeatedly mentioned in these letters, yet the writers remained anonymous. The letters were frightening enough, however, to convince the Judge Mr Farquharson, the Opium Agent Mr Garrett and others to flee from their houses and barricade themselves in the Opium Godown.
On the 11th of June, accompanied by Captain Rattray and Subedar Hedayut Ali, Tayler set off for Dinapore to confer with General Lloyd and Colonel Rowcroft. His idea was not just to ascertain the situation in Dinapore for himself but to speak to the men of the 8th Regiment, hoping to derive some advantage from a direct appeal to their loyalty. The men listened to Tayler, but whether he had made any impression on them at all, Tayler himself could not ascertain. They listened passively, and when Tayler was done, he could not read a single emotion in their faces.
Disturbed but not disheartened, Tayler, Rattray and Hedayut Ali returned to Patna.