The Project Gutenberg eBook of Twelve Years of a Soldier's Life in India, by Major W. S. R. Hodson, edited by The Rev. George H. Hodson.

July 16th.—I have just bade good-bye to Colonel Welchman. The poor old man is better, but sadly pulled down and aged. The doctors now think his arm may be saved, that it may remain on, but it will never be of the slightest use to him again, the elbow-joint is so much injured. He and Captain Brown start to-morrow night, with a convoy of sick and wounded men and officers, for Umbâla and the hills. Of these, the 1st Fusileers form a sad proportion. With one or two exceptions, nothing could be better or more gallant than the conduct of this regiment. Jacob, Greville, Wriford, all admirable in the field, and the younger officers beyond all praise; Butler, F. Brown, Owen, and Warner, markedly so. In all the worst of the awful heat, dust, fatigue, work, and privation,—and all have been beyond description,—our plucky fellows have not only kept up their own spirits, but been an example and pattern to the camp. If any one was down in his luck, he had only to go to the Fusileers' mess and be jolly.

The story in the papers about the boot was essentially correct for once, though how they should have got hold of it I do not know, for I never mentioned it even to you, since it certainly could not be called a wound, though a very narrow escape from one. A rascally Pandy made a thrust at my horse, which I parried, when he seized his "tulwar" in both hands, bringing it down like a sledge-hammer; it caught on the iron of my antigropelos legging, which it broke into the skin, cut through the stirrup-leather, and took a slice off my boot and stocking; and yet, wonderful to say, the sword did not penetrate the skin. Both my horse and myself were staggered by the force of the blow, but I recovered myself quickly, and I don't think that Pandy will ever raise his "tulwar" again. I should not have entered into all these details about self but for those tiresome papers having made so much of it. The fight on that day (the 14th) was the old story. An attack in force on the right of our position; the enemy were allowed to blaze away, expending powder, and doing us no harm, until 4 p. m., when a column was sent down to turn them out of the gardens and villages they had occupied, and drive them back to the city. I had just returned from a long day's work with the cavalry, miles away in the rear, and had come back as far as Light's advanced battery. I was chatting with him for a few minutes en passant, when I saw the column pass down. I joined it, and sent for a few horsemen to accompany me, and when we got under fire, I found the Guide Infantry, under Shebbeare, had been sent to join in the attack. I accompanied them, and while the Fusileers and Coke's men were driving the mass of the enemy helter-skelter through the gardens to our right, I went, with the Guides, Goorkhas, and part of the Fusileers, along the Grand Trunk Road leading right into the gates of Delhi. We were exposed to a heavy fire of grape from the walls, and musketry from behind trees and rocks; but pushing on, we drove them right up to the very walls, killing uncounted numbers, and then were ordered to retire. This was done too quickly by the artillery, and some confusion ensued, the troops hurrying back too fast. The consequence was, the enemy rallied, bringing up infantry, then a large body of cavalry, and behind them again two guns to bear on us. There were very few of our men, but I managed to get eight horsemen to the front. Shebbeare, though wounded, aided me in rallying some Guide Infantry, and Greville and Jacob (whose horse had just been shot) coming up, brought a few scattered Fusileers forward. I called on the men to fire, assuring them that the body of cavalry coming down would never stand. I got a few men to open fire; my gallant Guides stood their ground like men; Shebbeare, Jacob, Greville, and little Butler, came to the front, and the mass of the enemy's cavalry, just as I said, stopped, reeled, turned, and fled in confusion; the guns behind them were for the moment deserted, and I tried hard to get up a charge to capture them; we were within thirty paces; twenty-five resolute men would have been enough; but the soldiers were blown, and could not push on in the face of such odds, unsupported as we were, for the whole of the rest of the troops had retired. My eight horsemen stood their ground, and the little knot of officers used every exertion to aid us, when suddenly two rascals rushed forward with lighted port-fires in their hands, fired the guns, loaded with grape, in our faces, and when the smoke cleared away, we found, to our infinite disgust and chagrin, that they had limbered up the guns and were off at a gallop. We had then to effect our retreat to rejoin the column, under a heavy fire of grape and musketry, and many men and officers were hit in doing it. I managed to get the Guides to retire quietly, fighting as they went, and fairly checking the enemy, on which I galloped back and brought up two guns, when we soon stopped all opposition, and drove the last living rebel into his Pandemonium. My Guides stood firm, and, as well as my new men, behaved admirably; not so all who were engaged, and it was in consequence of that poor Chamberlain got wounded; for seeing a hesitation among the troops he led, who did not like the look of a wall lined with Pandies, and stopped short instead of going up to it, he leaped his horse clean over the wall into the midst of them, and dared the men to follow, which they did, but he got a ball in the shoulder. There is not a braver heart or cooler head in camp; his fault is too great hardihood and exposure in the field and a sometimes too injudicious indifference to his own life, or that of his men. We are in a nice fix here; General Reed is so ill he is ordered away at once; Chamberlain is on his back for six weeks at least; Norman, however, is safe and doing admirably; were he to be hit, the "head-quarters" would break down altogether. There will be no assault on Delhi yet; our rulers will now less than ever decide on a bold course; and truth to tell, the numbers of the enemy have so rapidly increased, and ours have been so little replenished in proportion, and our losses, for a small army, have been so severe, that it becomes a question, whether now we have numbers sufficient to risk an assault. Would to Heaven it had been tried when I first pressed it. How many brave hearts have been sacrificed in consequence. Coke's men suffered severely on the 14th from getting too close, yet not close enough, to the city walls.

July 17th.—But little private writing for me to-day, as I have only just come back from Brigadier Hope Grant's tent, whither I went on business, and I have been fully occupied with news-writers cum multis aliis. I begin to think of giving up this Quartermaster-General's work, now that times are so changed. I began with poor General Anson, "under his Excellency's personal orders;" I continued this work under General Barnard at his request, and now for these last days under General Reed; but he too is incapacitated by sickness, age, and anxiety, and goes off to the hills to-night. Colonel Curzon left for Simla yesterday. Colonel Congreve also goes, so the head-quarters of the army are finally breaking up. The Adjutant-General (Chamberlain) is badly wounded, the Quartermaster-General (Colonel Becher) ditto, though he does work a little in-doors, if one may use such an expression of a tent, but he ought not to do even that much, so badly hurt as he is. Colonel Young, Norman, and myself are therefore the only representatives of the head-quarter staff, except the doctors and commissaries. The head-quarters of the army are now at Calcutta, General Pat Grant's arrival having been announced, and this army has dropped into merely a field force, commanded by Brigadier Wilson as senior, with the rank of Brigadier-General. I can hardly reconcile myself to throw up the Intelligence Department now that I have had the trouble of getting it into working order; but for my own sake I must do so, for it is a terrible drag on me, and ties me down too much. I am wonderfully well, thank God! and able to get through as much work as any man; but commanding two regiments, and being eyes and ears of the army too, is really too much! Shebbeare and Macdowell are appointed to my regiment in general orders—the former as second in command, but to continue for the present with the Guides; the latter as adjutant, but to act as second in command also, for the present. I hope to have another officer or two in a few days, as more now devolves on poor Mac than his fragile frame can well stand. I wish his bodily strength was equal to his will and courage. It is hot, oh, how hot! and we can have nothing but a hand punkah occasionally; if our servants were to make off, we should indeed be in a pretty predicament, but hitherto they have been faithful and unmurmuring.

July 19th.—I was quite unable to write yesterday, as I went out long before daylight; so with the exception of a few minutes at 8 a. m. I was in the saddle until dark! We had a smart engagement in the afternoon. I was sent for to take the Guide cavalry down into the suburbs to support some guns, and assist in driving the enemy back into the city. We were commanded by a fine old gentleman, who might sit for a portrait of Falstaff, so fat and jolly is he: Colonel Jones, of the 60th Rifles. We got down to our point, close to the walls of Delhi, easily enough, the rascally enemy being ready enough to turn and fly for shelter; but to return was the difficulty; the instant we began to draw off, they followed us, their immense numbers giving them a great power of annoyance at very slight cost to themselves. The brave old colonel was going to retire "all of a heap," infantry, guns, and all in a helpless mass, and we should have suffered cruel loss in those narrow roads, with walls and buildings on both sides. I rode up to him and pointed this out, and in reply received carte blanche to act as I saw best. This was soon done, with the assistance of Henry Vicars (Adjutant 61st) and Coghill, (Adjutant 2d Bengal European Fusileers,) both cool soldiers under fire, though so young, and we got off in good order and with trifling loss, drawing the men back slowly and in regular order, covered by Dixon's and Money's guns. My own men, whose duty was the difficult one of enduring a very hot fire without acting, behaved admirably, and I had the satisfaction of losing only one killed and two wounded, besides a few horses, who generally come off second best where bullets are flying about. My poor "Feroza" was hit by one, but not dangerously, and I was again most mercifully preserved unharmed. I was out again early this morning reconnoitring, and have only just returned in time to write even so much, too much of myself as usual for my own feeling, but you will have it so[34].

July 20th.—I had a very fatiguing, because sunshiny, ride yesterday, and a troublesome species of reconnaissance, to prevent the enemy getting into our rear. Their name is indeed "legion" compared with us. I should say, from all I can ascertain by the news-letters, that there cannot be less than 36,000[35] fighting men in Delhi, while we are barely a fifth of that number, including cavalry and all! Our position, however, is much strengthened, and we now beat them with half the trouble we had at first, their appetite for fighting being considerably lessened by having been so repeatedly driven back; but alas! we only drive them back, while we do not advance an inch. The odds have, moreover, fearfully increased against us by their continued accessions, and I confess I now see less and less hope of success in an assault; when I first urged it, the enemy had not more than 7,000 Sepoys in the city, while we had 2,000 infantry alone. Now, as I said before, the case is very different; for even were we to undertake an assault with a reasonable prospect of success, if they should, in despair, determine to defend the city inch by inch, or street by street, we should not have men enough to secure our hold upon it. In that case, the city people (all of whom are armed) would join in the fray, and, considering what the consequences of failure would be, and further, that to do this much we should be obliged to use up every man available, leaving no one, or next to none, to protect our camp, sick, and wounded, from any attempt of the enemy, or of our questionable friends, the country people, it becomes a matter of serious and painful consideration. A want of success, moreover, would now be productive of infinite mischief. From hence to Allahabad, the fort of Agra and the Residency of Lucknow are the only spots where the British flag still flies. We are more to be considered now as an isolated band, fighting for our very name and existence in the midst of an enemy's country, than as an avenging army about to punish a rebel force. Sir H. Lawrence is holding out at Lucknow, but Cawnpore has fallen into the hands of the rebels. Sir Hugh Wheeler, after three weeks' contest, with, we hear, only 150 Europeans, in an evil hour capitulated, on condition of being provided with boats and a free passage to Allahabad; as soon as they were on board the boats, the whole were massacred! What became of the women and children we know not; it is hoped they might have been sent away earlier and escaped; otherwise it is horrible to think of what may have been their fate. Troops are collecting fast at Allahabad, and I hope moving on towards Cawnpore; some think we shall be forced to await their arrival at or near Delhi, before we can do anything effective. I trust earnestly that the city will not hold out so long. The people within it are immensely disheartened, and dissensions are rife among them. A split between the Hindoos and fanatic Mahommedans is almost inevitable, and, above all, money is getting scarce. Meantime, this "waiting race" is very wearying to heart and body.

... I have determined on giving up the Assistant Quartermaster-Generalship. It gives me more work than I really can manage in such weather, in addition to the command of two regiments. Macdowell promises admirably, and I trust there is every hope of our having a nice body of officers with "Hodson's Horse." Nothing further from Agra, beyond the assurance that all was well there.

July 21st.—Just returned from a long reconnaissance, and the post going out, so I have time but for little. Do not believe what the idle gossips say, of my "doing the work of two or three men." I strive to do my duty, but I cannot consider I do more. I do not run wanton risks, but I cannot stand by and see what ought to be done, without risking something to do it. Had I not attempted what I did on the 14th, even with the insufficient means at my command, we should have been exposed to a disastrous loss of life, and to the discredit of a reverse. That we cannot afford. It is not only the possession of India which is at stake, not only our name and fame as Englishmen, but the safety, life, and honor of those nearest and dearest to us; were we to fail here, the horrible scenes of Meerut, Delhi, Rohilcund, Jhansee, and others, would be repeated in the Punjaub and hill stations. Who, then, as husband, brother, father, son, would hesitate to face any danger, any risk, which tended to secure victory? I saw that our men were retiring (by order) in great confusion, that five minutes more and the whole party would be destroyed, and the fate of the column sealed, for the enemy's cavalry and guns were opening on us at speed. It was a natural impulse to rush forward, and nobly was I aided by Jacob and Greville, and my handful of gallant Guides; the tide was turned by the suddenness of the act; the enemy were driven back, and our men had time to breathe. This was not much to do, but it was a great deal to gain.

July 22d.—Again but a few lines, for I have been regularly hunted all day. I told you that Sir H. Wheeler had capitulated, and been treacherously destroyed with his party; we have since heard that a force from Allahabad had reached Cawnpore under Colonel Neill of the Madras Fusileers, that Sir H. Lawrence has been succored, and that, in point of fact, our power up to Agra had been reestablished. God grant this be true. Agra is safe, and all well; the troops which attacked it are afraid to come on here, and have halted at Muttra. The force in Delhi is much disheartened, and fights with gradually decaying energy. Already we have beaten them back in twenty-three fights, besides a few such affairs on my own private account, and though with considerable loss to us, yet with comparative ease, when you consider their overwhelming numbers. We had an engagement on the evening of the 20th, in which Colonel Seaton commanded our column, the 1st Fusileers, 61st Foot, and Guides as usual. I had command of the Guide infantry, and led the advance as well as covered the retreat; and though we pushed close up to Delhi, we never had a shot fired from the walls until we had set out on our return to camp some way. They then came howling after us like jackals, but the Guides were mindful of their old leader's voice, and steadily kept them in check during the whole distance, so completely, that not a European soldier was under fire, and I only lost four men slightly wounded, while the enemy returned in utter discomfiture. Poor Light has been very ill, and Thompson has a bullet through his leg. Bishop also is wounded; he retains the same calm composure of manner under the hottest fire and hardest work, as he habitually exhibited on the Mall. These are excellent officers, but Tombs and Light are really splendid. I hope Chamberlain's arm will be saved; he is a noble fellow, but of course has his weaknesses.

July 24th.—I was quite unable to write yesterday. Pandy chose an unusually inconvenient hour for his attack, and kept us out until the afternoon, and then I was busied in attending to our poor friend Colonel Seaton, who, I grieve to say, was badly wounded, a musket-ball having entered his left breast and come out at his back, providentially passing outside the ribs instead of through his body; his lungs are, however, slightly injured, either by a broken rib or the concussion, and until it is ascertained to what extent this has gone, he is considered in danger. I do not myself think there is danger, as no unfavorable symptom has yet appeared, except a slight spitting of blood; but he is so patient and quiet that all is in his favor. I am deeply sorry for him, dear fellow! and fervently pray that he may be spared to us. There was little actual fighting; the rascals ran, the instant they came in contact with our men; the only firing being behind banks and garden-walls. Colonel Drought, late 60th Native Infantry, was wounded; Captain Money of the Artillery got a bad knock on the knee-joint, and Law of the 10th Native Infantry killed; two killed and five wounded in the 1st Fusileers, who, as usual, bore the brunt. After many discussions pro and con, it has been arranged that I retain the Intelligence Department and give up the Guides. My own men require great attention, as they are now in considerable numbers; so the General has begged me to relinquish the Guides instead of the Assistant Quartermaster-Generalship; the command of two regiments being an anomaly. I am very ready to do this, though I regret the separation from the men, and should have liked to have led my old corps into Delhi; but it is best as it is. You at least will rejoice that it greatly diminishes the risk to life and limb, which, I confess, lately has been excessive in my case. The General was very complimentary on my doings while commanding the Guides, and "trusted to receive equally invaluable services from my new regiment." I have little doubt of this, if I am spared. I find General Barnard reported no less than four times on my doings in the highest terms; and the last public letter he ever wrote was a special despatch to Government in my favor. It was, in fact, the only letter of the kind he ever wrote, for death intervened just as he was setting to work to bring those who had done well to the notice of Government.

They tell me I shall get pay for the Assistant Quarter-master-General's Department,[36] as well as my command allowance. For the Guides, of course I shall get nothing; but, I must say, I work, not like a "nigger," considering their work usually amounts to nil, but like a slave, in the Intelligence Department. I have been deeply shocked to hear that poor Christian, his young wife, and babes were among the murdered in Oudh. Also Colonel Goldney.... All is well at Agra; there are about 6,000 individuals in the fort, with provisions for six months; they are probably relieved by now, for we hear that six English regiments were at Cawnpore on the 11th instant. This cheers up the men, and makes them think that Government has some thought for the gallant fellows here and elsewhere. I sent by Martin, of the 75th, a parcel for Mrs. Hallifax, containing, with other things, the old pistol her poor husband gave me. I should have liked to have kept it as a memorial of him, but as she wished for it, of course I resign it; the other arms, except the revolver, which Dr. Stewart says he lost, were packed up and sent to Umbâla with other things.

July 25th.—Well, yes, I did offer to go down the Doâb towards Agra and Cawnpore, to open the communication, and ascertain exactly where the reinforcements were, and assist them with cavalry in coming up towards Delhi. It would have been of real use, and not so dangerous as this eternal potting work here. I proposed to take 600 of my Horse, 250 infantry of the Guides, and four guns; could I not have made my way with these? I humbly opine I could. I do not mean to say it was not a bold stroke, but in Indian warfare I have always found "toujours l'audace" not a bad motto. I can never forget how much we have at stake, that we have a continent in arms against us; and I do think (and certainly shall always act so) that every man should do not only his duty but his utmost in a crisis like the present.

July 26th.—A parcel with flannel shirts, &c., arrived last night. Those for the men I sent off to the hospital at once, to the doctors' great delight. Macdowell declares that the cap, his "jumpers," and the "baccy" Lord W. Hay was to send, must be in the box, and demands them imperiously. He is doing admirably, and promises to be a first-rate officer of light horse. He rides well, which is one good thing, and is brave as a lion's whelp, which is another. I only fear whether he has physical strength for such work in such weather. The whole country is a steaming bog. I keep my health wonderfully, thank God! in spite of heat, hard work, and exposure; and the men bear up like Britons. We all feel that Government ought to allow every officer and man before Delhi to count every month spent here as a year of service in India. There is much that is disappointing and disgusting to a man who feels that more might have been done, but I comfort myself with the thought, that history (if Russell, not Macaulay, writes it) will do justice to the constancy and fortitude of the handful of Englishmen who have for so many weeks—months, I may say—of desperate weather, amid the greatest toil and hardship, resisted and finally defeated the worst and most strenuous exertions of an entire army and a whole nation in arms,—an army trained by ourselves, and supplied with all but exhaustless munitions of war, laid up by ourselves for the maintenance of our Empire. I venture to aver that no other nation in the world would have remained here, or have avoided defeat had they attempted to do so. The delay as yet has been both morally and politically bad in many ways, and the results are already beginning to be manifest, but in the end it will increase our prestige and the moral effects of our power. A nation which could conquer a country like the Punjaub so recently with an Hindostanee army, and then turn the energies of the conquered Sikhs to subdue the very army by which they were tamed; which could fight out a position like Peshawur for years in the very teeth of the Affghan tribes; and then, when suddenly deprived of the regiments which effected this, could unhesitatingly employ those very tribes to disarm and quell those regiments when in mutiny,—a nation which could do this is destined indeed to rule the world; and the races of Asia must succumb. This is a proud feeling, and nerves one's arm in many a time of difficulty and danger, as much almost as the conviction that we must conquer, or worse than death awaits us. The intelligence of Sir H. Wheeler's destruction came to us from too true a source to be doubted,—it was in dear Sir Henry Lawrence's own handwriting; and has been confirmed, alas, too surely. All we do not know is whether the women and children were massacred with the men, or whether they escaped, or were reserved for a worse fate.

One of my news-letters reports that eighteen women are in prison under the care (?) of Nana Sahib (Bajee Rao Peishwar's adopted son), who attacked Cawnpore. You must remember at the artillery review a very "swell" looking native gentleman, accompanied by another educated native, who spoke French and other European languages, and was talking a good deal to Alfred Light. Well, this was the identical Nana Sahib who has done all this, and who must even at that very time have been meditating the treachery, if not the murders.

There is not a word of truth in the report of "the King of Delhi coming out for a final struggle." Rumor has been saying so for weeks, with no foundation; the truth is, the King is a mere puppet, a "ruse." He is old, and well-nigh impotent, and is only used as authority for all the acts of rebellion and barbarity enacted by his sons. The rascals talk (in the city) of coming round on our rear, and attacking us in the field. I only wish they would, for in the open plain we should hunt them down like jackals. They escape us now by flying back into the city, or under cover of the heavy batteries from its walls. When (if ever) they do come out, the General has proposed to put the whole of the Irregular Cavalry under my command, and I trust to give a tolerable account of the enemy, and show that "Hodson's Horse" are capable of something, even already.

Colonel Seaton is doing admirably, I am thankful to say. He is patient and gentle in suffering as a woman, and this helps his recovery wonderfully.

July 27th.—Since the 23d, hardly a shot has been fired here. The news-letters from the city mention meetings in the market-place, and talkings at the corners of the streets, with big words of what they intend to do; but they (the people) are actually cowed and dispirited, while their rulers issue orders which are never obeyed.

I fear our movements wait upon theirs. We have no one in power with a head to devise or a heart to dare any enterprise which might result in the capture of Delhi; and alas! one cannot but admit that it would require both a wise head and a very great heart to run the risk with so reduced a force as we have here now. 2,200 Europeans[37] and 1,500 Native Infantry are all that we now can muster. We have reliable news from below, that, on or about the 14th, General Havelock, with the first portion of the European force, met and attacked the villain Nana, near Futteypore (between Allahabad and Cawnpore), and beat him thoroughly, capturing his camp, twelve guns, and seven lac of rupees. The China troops had arrived: Lord Elgin having consented to the employment of the whole.

Sir P. Grant is coming up with these troops, "on dit," so that in six weeks from the date of the Meerut massacre, 11,000 European troops will have landed in India; what a providential arrival, and what a lesson to Asiatics that they can never contend with England.

This news has put the whole camp, even the croakers, of whom there are not a few, in high spirits. I only hope it is not too good to be true.

As a set-off against this, news has arrived that Tudor Tucker, his wife, and Sam Fisher, are among the victims of this horrible insurrection, also, poor James Thomason; and of his brother-in-law's, Dr. Hay's, execution, there can be no longer a doubt. How many hecatombs of Sepoys would it require to atone for their deaths alone. When shall we see the last; when know the full extent of these horrible atrocities? The accounts make one's blood run fire. Our dear Douglas Seaton has arrived in England, much restored by the voyage, but not, I fear, sufficiently recovered to return, as soon as he would hear of the outbreak. A sad blow for him, poor fellow, for had he been here to command the regiment, he would probably have been a full Colonel and C. B. at the end. I am seriously uneasy at receiving no letters from England, though mail after mail must have arrived, and some people get their letters! therefore why not I mine? We get none even from Agra, and of course not below it, except by "Kossid," and they but little scraps, written half in Greek characters, to mislead or deceive, if the unfortunate bearer is stopped. They conceal them very ingeniously between the leather of their shoes, or tied up in their hair. I inclose one that came in even a more singular letter-bag than either, rolled up in a piece of wax and packed into a hollow tooth.

—— tells me that —— was furious at my having the Guides, but was compelled to acquiesce in it "as it was undoubtedly the best thing for the public service." How he must have winced when he was forced to confess that.

July 28th.—I have no news. The Pandies have not attacked us since the 23d, and are much dispirited. In reply to your and Mrs. ——'s wish to come to Delhi as nurses, I must say honestly that there is no necessity for such a sacrifice. Our position here is very different from that in the Crimea and at Scutari. There the men died from want of care and of the ordinary necessaries of life. Here there is no absolute want of anything, except a genial climate and well-built hospitals, neither of which you could supply. The men are attended to immediately they are sick or wounded; and within an hour, sometimes half that time, of his being wounded, a soldier is in his bed, with everything actually necessary, and the greatest medical attention. Unless any unforeseen emergency should arise, I would strongly dissuade any lady from coming to camp.

I have always urged the authorities to send away, as fast as possible, those who have arrived as refugees. We have a vast camp, or rather position, five miles in circumference, and we are constantly obliged to take every man into the field. The guard for our sick is trifling enough, and our difficulties would be increased were there women also to be thought of; and God forbid that any more lives should be risked in this dreadful servile war. There is also another consideration of much weight against the tender sympathy which prompts the offer. How is a delicate woman's constitution to bear up against the evils of a tented field in the rains, or render efficient service in such a climate as this is now? They would all very speedily become patients in the very hospitals which they came to serve and would so willingly support. The flannel garments are invaluable, and this is all that can be done for us by female hands at present.

July 29th.—I have been so occupied with business all day that I have only time to say we have had no more fighting, and the whole atmosphere is still, but hot, oh, so hot! General Wilson is unwell, and will probably break down, like the rest. These sexagenarians are unfit for work in July. I expect Napier will be with the advancing troops. I sincerely hope so. He is the man to do something, if they will but let him.

July 31st.—I intended writing more fully to make up for my late short-comings, but the Pandies permit it not. They made an attempt on our position this morning; nothing more, however, than a distant cannonade. A large party have moved round in our rear, and this has kept me in the saddle all day. I have just returned, after some hours of the heaviest rain I was ever out in, drenched to the skin, of course, and somewhat tired, so judge what a comfort a dry flannel shirt must be. There was no actual fighting, so with the exception of keeping us out so long, and a great expenditure of powder and shot, no harm was done.

August 1st.—The continued heavy rain promises to give me more time for pen-work to-day, if no more takes place on this side of Pandy-monium. The box has arrived safely with the new "jumpers," &c. Lord William's additions are invaluable. We have fresh accounts from below that every European woman and child have been ruthlessly murdered at Cawnpore. The details are too revolting to put on paper, and make one's blood boil. Mothers with infants in their arms murdered with fiendish cruelty, and worse than all, two young girls just arrived from England are said to have been only saved to meet a worse fate in some Mussulman's zenana. There will be a day of reckoning for these things, and a fierce one, or I have been a soldier in vain. You say there is a great difference between doing one's duty and running unnecessary risks, and you say truly; the only question is, what is one's duty. Now, I might, as I have more than once, see things going wrong at a time and place when I might be merely a spectator, and not "on duty," or ordered to be there, and I might feel that by exposing myself to danger for a time I might rectify matters, and I might therefore think it right to incur that danger; and yet if I were to get hit, it would be said "he had no business there;" nor should I, as far as the rules of the service go, though in my own mind I should have been satisfied that I was right. These are times when every man should do his best, his utmost, and not say, "No; though I see I can do good there, yet, as I have not been ordered and am not on duty, I will not do it." This is not my idea of a soldier's duty, and hitherto the results have proved me right. Poor Eaton Travers, of Coke's regiment, was killed this morning. He had just come from England viâ Bombay, with a young wife, whom he left at Lahore. Poor young thing, a sad beginning and end for her. We send off convoys of the sick and wounded to Umbâla, where we hear they are well tended and are doing well. Even here everything possible is done for them; Dr. Brougham is an excellent man, and first-rate surgeon, quite the man of the camp in his line, clever, indefatigable, and humane.

2d.—The rebels attacked us about 5 p. m. yesterday, and kept us at it till seven or eight this morning. Our people kept steadily at their posts and behind intrenchments, and drove them back with steady volleys every time they came near. The result was, that they were punished severely, while our loss was a very trifling one, not more than half a dozen Europeans killed and wounded; it is next to impossible ever to ascertain accurately what the enemy's loss is.

Colonel Seaton is doing well; in three weeks' time I hope he will be about again. Before this surely our rulers will consent to take Delhi. Sickness is on the increase, and we have been nearly losing another General. General Wilson was very ill for a few days, but is now better. He is older, however, by ten years than he was. The responsibility and anxiety of what is certainly a very difficult position, have been too much for him, and he has got into the way of being nervous and alarmed, and overanxious even about trifles, which shakes one's dependence on his judgment. These men are personally as brave as lions, but they have not big hearts or heads enough for circumstances of serious responsibility. This word is the bugbear which hampers all our proceedings. Would we could have had Sir Henry Lawrence as our leader; we should have been in Delhi weeks ago. I hope Colonel Napier is coming up with the force. He has head, and heart, and nerve, and the moral courage to act as if he had; we hear that the crisis is passing; all below Cawnpore is safe, and all above Kurnâl to Peshawur; while Lord W. Hay keeps the more important hill stations steady. When all is over, our power will be stronger than ever, principally because we shall have got rid of our great sore, a native army.

3d.—4 p. m. and I have only just got out of the saddle, and found on my arrival in camp the heaviest news that has yet reached us. Report says that Sir Henry is dead! The news wants confirmation, and God grant that it may be untrue. I should lose one of my best friends, and the country (in Lord Dalhousie's words on poor Mackeson) "one whose loss would dim a victory." I cannot write more to-day; the news has quite unnerved me.

4th.—Two letters have just arrived from General Havelock at Cawnpore. They were written at an interval of ten days, and mentioned his having had three successful fights, on the 12th, 15th, and 16th of July, and the reoccupation of Cawnpore. The first of these letters mentions a report that Sir Henry had died on the 4th July, of wounds received on the 2d; but the second letter, written ten days later, does not even allude to a circumstance of such importance, and the Sikh who brought it, and who left Havelock near Lucknow, on his way to its relief, maintains that it is not true, and that Sir Henry Lawrence was alive when he left, as letters were constantly passing from Havelock's camp to the "Burra Sahib." God grant, for his country's sake and for mine, that it be not true. To the country his death would be worse than the loss of a province; to me it would be the loss of my truest and most valued friend. I hope, yet fear to hope, that it may be a false report; yet what soldier would wish a more noble, a more brilliant end to such a career? Havelock has captured all the enemy's guns, and inflicted severe punishment. The destruction of Sir Hugh Wheeler and his party is fully confirmed, and Havelock was too late to save the unfortunate women and children, who were massacred in their prison, before his arrival, by their guards. Such fiends as these our arms have never met with in any part of the world. May our vengeance be as speedy as it will unquestionably be sure!

We (Hodson's Horse) are getting on very comfortably, and are going to start a mess on our own account, so as to be ready to march without difficulty when required.

5th.—To-day the accounts received from a native Commissariat Agent, arrived at Meerut from Lucknow, are positive as to Sir H. Lawrence being alive a fortnight after he was said to have died. This, if reliable, is good indeed. The letter I annex[38] from Colonel Tytler gives good news, and the man who brought the letter, says there were fourteen steamers and flats at Cawnpore when he left. The troops had taken Bithoor, the Nana's place, and at first it was uninjured, but the bodies of some English women were found inside the Nana's house, on which the European soldiers, excited to irresistible fury, destroyed every human being in the place, and then demolished the building, not leaving one stone upon another. The Nana himself, with his family, took refuge in a boat on the river, and the native accounts add that he sunk it, and all were drowned. This I strongly doubt; such Spartan heroism could scarcely exist in the mind of one who could violate and massacre helpless women and children. Indeed, I hope it is not true; for it is one of my aims to have the catching of the said Nana myself. The hanging him would be a positive pleasure to me. I trust the day of retribution is not far distant.

6th.—Small chance of much writing to-day, for just as I have got into camp, after some hours' attendance on the pleasure of the Pandies, who came out in force and threatened an attack, I find that I have to start on a long reconnoitring expedition, from which I cannot return till late at night. This is unfortunate, as I have much pen-work on hand, my necessary official writing being very onerous. I was obliged to write as long a letter as I could to Lord W. Hay, if but to thank him, in my own and others' name, for the comforts he so thoughtfully sent us.

I have a very complimentary letter from G. Barnes, the Commissioner, as well as some others, enough to turn one's head with vanity; but I have had bitter experience of its rottenness, and take the flattery at its full value, namely, "nil." I fear, from fresh reports arrived, that Havelock will not come and help us after all. They say he has the strictest orders to relieve Lucknow only, and that however much he may desire to march on to Delhi, it is out of his power to do so. It is true we do not want him. Delhi surely must be taken as soon as ever the reinforcements get down here from the Punjaub. Our rulers must then see the necessity for action.

7th.—I returned at three o'clock this morning from a forty miles' ride over the worst and wettest country I was ever in, and I am thoroughly exhausted, though everybody is wanting something, and I must attend to business first, and then to rest.

8th.—I could write nothing but official papers all the sedentary part of yesterday. I did not get in till 9 p. m. The news from below mentions good dear old Dr. Lyell as among the killed at Patna. Brave, noble fellow, his gallant spirit has led him to the front once too often. He had always as much of the warrior as of the surgeon in him. The report has again gained ground of dear Sir Henry's death, but my heart refuses credence to so great a misfortune. I do trust that when the 52d arrive, we may be allowed to do something better than this pot-shot work. Nicholson has come on ahead, and is a host in himself, if he does not go and get knocked over as Chamberlain did. The camp is all alive at the notion of something decisive taking place soon, but I cannot rally from the fear of dear Sir Henry's fate. How many of my friends are gone. My heart is divided between grief for those precious victims, and deep gratitude to God for my own safety and that of those dearest to me. May He in His mercy preserve me for further exertion and an ultimate reunion, and if not, His will be done. I have a letter from an unfortunate woman, a Mrs. Leeson, who was saved from the slaughter at Delhi, on May 11th, by an Affghan lad, after she had been wounded, and her child slaughtered in her arms. She is still concealed in the Affghan's house. I heard that there was a woman there, and managed to effect a communication with her, through one of the Guides, and to send her money, &c., and so I think the poor creature may be preserved till we enter Delhi, if we fail in getting her free before. I fear she is the only European, or rather the only Christian (for she herself is hardly European), left alive from the massacre. Her husband was the son of Major Leeson, and a clerk in a Government office in Delhi. I have sent one of our few prisoners up to Forsyth at Umbâla, whom we ironically call the "Maid of Delhi," though her age and character are questionable, and her ugliness undoubted. She actually came out on horseback, and fought against us like a fiend. The General at first released her, but knowing how mischievous she would be among those superstitious Mahommedans, I persuaded him to let her be recaptured, and made over for safe custody. It is a moot point whether any assault will be made as soon as the 52d arrive. I can only go on hoping, but I confess I am not very sanguine about anything being done now.

Our General, since his illness, has got a still weaker dread of responsibility, and ceased to be nearly as vigorous even as heretofore. Would indeed that we had had Sir H. Lawrence here; that he may have been, and still be spared to us, is my prayer! The consequences of longer delay will be more and more disastrous to the health of the troops. Captain Daly has not formally reassumed command of the Guides, though he virtually does all the sedentary work. By an arrangement which I cannot but think unwise, and which deprives the corps of two thirds of its value, they have separated the regiment into two, putting the cavalry into the Cavalry Brigade under Hope Grant, and the infantry at the other end of the camp under Shebbeare, and Major Reid of the Goorkhas, who commands all the posts and pickets on our right.

The Guides should not be separated, and should be kept as much apart as may be from other corps. No regiment in the world have done or will do better than they, with a little prudence, and under an officer whom they like and can trust. My own regiment is also in the Cavalry Brigade, and is very hard-worked. It is bad for a young and unformed corps, but there is such a scarcity of cavalry here, that I cannot even remonstrate, and I get no small amount of κῦδος for having so large a number of men fit to be put on duty within two months of receiving the order to raise a regiment. I shall have two more troops in with the 52d, and Nicholson has given me fifty Affghans, just joined him from Peshawur, which, added to thirty coming with Alee Reza Khan from Lahore, will complete an Affghan troop as a counterpoise to my Punjaubees.[39]

We expect the movable column on the 12th or 13th, weather permitting, and some other troops a day or two after. Sir P. Grant is supposed to be at Cawnpore, but we have no tidings later than Colonel Tytler's letter. There is no actual fighting going on here, nothing except the usual cannonade. The rebels bring out guns on all sides, and fire away day and night, but bring no troops forward, and as we act strictly on the defensive, we merely reply to their guns with ours. The whole affair is reduced to a combat of artillery, our leader's favorite arm, excellent when combined with the other two, but if he expects to get into Delhi with that alone, I guess he will find himself mistaken. The news of disaffection in the city is daily confirmed. On the 7th a powder manufactory exploded, and they suspended the minister, Hakeem Ahsanoolah, and searched his house; there they found a letter which had been sent him, concocted by Moulvie Rujub Alee, which confirmed their suspicions, so they plundered and burnt his house, while he himself was only saved by taking refuge in the palace with the King, his master, who it seems is kept close prisoner there, his sons giving all orders, and ruling with a rod of iron. They say, however, that the King has got leave to send his wives and women out of the Ajmere gate to the Kootub. I trust it may be so, for we do not war with women, and should be sadly puzzled to know what to do with them as prisoners.

August 11th.—The bridge over the Jumna resists all efforts for its destruction. Our engineers have tried their worst, and failed. I have tried all that money could do, to the extent of 6,000 rupees, but equally in vain. So there it remains for the benefit of the enemy, whose principal reinforcements come from that side of the city. Two messengers of my own, arrived from Lucknow, leave little hope of dear Sir Henry's life having been spared. I grieve as for a brother....

Talking of jealousies, one day, under a heavy fire, Captain —— came up to me, and begged me to forget and forgive what had passed, and only to remember that we were soldiers fighting together in a common cause. As I was the injured party, I could afford to do this. The time and place, as well as his manner, appealed to my better feelings, so I held out my hand at once. Now-a-days, we must stand by and help each other, forget all injuries, and rise superior to them, or, God help us! we should be in terrible plight.

August 12th.—This morning a force under Colonel Showers moved down before daybreak towards the city, or rather the gardens outside the city gates, and gave the enemy, who had been ensconced behind the garden walls for a couple of days, and given our pickets annoyance, a good thrashing, taking four of their guns, and inflicting a heavy loss. All were back in camp by 7 p. m., so it was a very comfortable little affair. Our fellows did admirably. Captain Greville captured one gun with a handful of men, getting slightly wounded in the act. Showers himself, Coke, and young Owen, were also wounded, and poor young Sheriff of the 2d mortally so; the loss among the men was small in proportion to the success. The return to camp was a scene worth witnessing, the soldiers bringing home in triumph the guns they had captured, a soldier, with musket and bayonet fixed, riding each horse, and brave young Owen astride one gun, and dozens clinging to and pushing it, or rather them, along with might and main, and cheering like mad things. I was in the thick of it by accident, for I was looking on as well as I could through the gloom, when Coke asked me to find Brigadier Showers and say he was wounded, and that the guns were taken. I found Showers himself wounded, and then had to find a field-officer to take command, after which, I assisted generally in drawing off the men—the withdrawal or retirement being the most difficult matter always, and requiring as much steadiness as an attack.

August 13th.—I wish I could get some pay, but money is terribly scarce and living dear; my favorite beverage, tea, particularly so. I have therefore sent to Umbâla for some.

Ghoolab Singh's death is unfortunate at this juncture, but I fancy we have too much to do just now to interfere with the succession; we ought not to do so according to treaty, and if Jowahir Singh tries to recover the country from his cousin, Runbeer Singh, the King's son, why that is his affair, not ours—though we should never be contented to let them fight it out and settle it themselves. Poor Light has been brought very low by dysentery, and can hardly crawl about, but about he persists in going, brave fellow as he is. What a contrast to ——, who has got away, sick or pretending to be so, to the hills,—anything to escape work. Greville is, I am thankful to say, not badly wounded, and as plucky as ever. All well at Agra; no news from below.

August 14th.—On returning from a rather disheartening reconnaissance to-day, I found letters which soothed and comforted my weary spirit, just as a sudden gleam of sunlight brightens a gloomy landscape, and brings all surrounding objects into light and distinctness.

I am no croaker, but I confess sometimes it requires all one's trust in the God of battles, and all the comforting and sustaining words of those nearest and dearest to us, to bear up boldly and bravely through these weary days. A letter from good Douglas Seaton was among them. He little thought that so soon after his departure we should all be moving downwards, and that I should receive his letter in his brother's tent in "Camp before Delhi;" his own dearly loved regiment[40] "next door" to us. How wonderfully uncertain everything is in India. I am interrupted by orders to start to-night for Rohtuck, and must go and make arrangements.

CHAPTER III.

SIEGE OF DELHI, CONTINUED.—ROHTUCK EXPEDITION.—ASSAULT.—DELHI TAKEN.—CAPTURE OF KING.—CAPTURE AND EXECUTION OF SHAHZADAHS.