Camp before Delhi, June 9th.

I wrote you a few hurried lines on the field of battle yesterday, to say that we had beaten the enemy, and driven them back five miles into Delhi. How grateful rest was after such a morning! The Guides came in to-day, and it would have done your heart good to see the welcome they gave me—cheering and shouting and crowding round me like frantic creatures. They seized my bridle, dress, hands, and feet, and literally threw themselves down before the horse with the tears streaming down their faces. Many officers who were present hardly knew what to make of it, and thought the creatures were mobbing me; and so they were,—but for joy, not for mischief[23]. All the staff were witnesses of this, and Colonel Becher says their reception of me was quite enough to contradict all the reports of my unpopularity[24] with the regiment. There is terrible confusion all along the road, and we can only get the dÂks carried at all by bribery, stage by stage.

June 10th.—When I hastily closed my letter yesterday, I hoped to be able to write a long one for to-day's dÂk, and to have had some hours' quiet to myself; but before the post had well started, our troops were again under arms, the mutineers having thought proper to attack our position; consequently I was on horseback the whole day, and thankful to get at night a mouthful of food and a little rest. I had command of all the troops on our right, the gallant Guides among the rest. They followed me with a cheer for their old commander, and behaved with their usual pluck; but I grieve deeply to say that poor Quintin Battye was mortally wounded. He behaved most nobly, Daly tells me, leading his men like a hero. Poor Khan Singh Rosah, who had come down from the Punjaub to join me only the same morning, was badly shot through the shoulder. Indeed, I did not expose myself unnecessarily, for, having to direct the movements of three or four regiments, I could not be in the front as much as I wished. God has mercifully preserved me, and I humbly pray will continue His gracious care. The warmth of the reception again given me by the Guides was quite affecting, and has produced a great sensation in camp, and had a good effect on our native troops, insomuch that they are more willing to obey their European officers when they see their own countrymen's enthusiasm. Numbers of the men want to come and join my new regiment,—in fact, the largest proportion of the cavalry; but of course I cannot take them now, nor until this business is over. I am wonderfully well, and only a little anxious about the hill stations, though I have full confidence in Lord William Hay's management. There is not much sickness in camp, though many wounded, and there will be many more, I fear, before we get into Delhi. We have been fortunate in the weather hitherto.

The enemy are at least four or five times our strength, and their numbers tell when we come near them, despite their want of discipline. They are splendid artillery-men, however, and actually beat ours in accuracy of fire.

Light works on magnificently, despite a severe and painful wound in the head. I was very nearly coming to grief once this morning, for the sabre I thought such a good one went the first blow, and the blade flew out of the handle the second, the handle itself breaking in two. I had to borrow a sword from a horse artillery-man for the remainder of the day.

The Jheend men with me fought like excellent soldiers. The good General came up when it was over and shook hands with me, and then with the men nearest. Their Rajah has given the native officer a pair of gold bangles, and doubled his pay. This is the way to encourage soldiers, European as well as native: reward them, if but with thanks, on the spot.

Colonel Thomas Seaton is at Rohtuck, in command of the 60th Native Infantry. How much longer they will refrain from mutiny one cannot say; certainly not long; though if any man can keep them steady, Seaton will. I hear some 300 or 400 men are ready for me; a few have already arrived with Khan Singh. Meantime my position is Assistant Quartermaster-General on the Commander-in-Chief's personal staff. I am responsible for the Intelligence Department, and in the field, or when anything is going on, for directing the movements of the troops in action, under the immediate orders of the General; I have no other master, and he listens to my suggestions most readily. Charlie Thomason is here, working away as an engineer. Macdowell is well and merry, and much gratified at my having asked for him.

June 14th.—We were roused up three times during the night, and I have been deep in business with the General all the morning. I was also interrupted by the mournful task of carrying poor Battye to his grave; the brave boy died last night, with a smile on his lip, and a Latin quotation on his tongue, "Dulce et decorum est pro patri mori." Poor fellow! he had quite won my heart by his courage and amiable qualities, and it is very, very sad, his early death. It was a noble one, however, and worthy of a soldier. We have just been excited in camp by the hasty arrival of Colonel Seaton and the officers of the late 60th Native Infantry, which mutinied yesterday, and, spite of all Seaton could do, they fired on their officers, who, however, all escaped and came into camp safe, after a ride of fifty miles. Seaton is with me, looking terribly worn and harassed, but he says quite well in health, though disgusted enough. Dr. Coghlan (75th Regiment) died of cholera last night, but, thank God! there are no other cases in camp. I am much vexed at the Lahore Chronicle "butter," and wish people would leave me alone in the newspapers. The best "butter" I get is the deference and respect I meet with from all whose respect I care for, and the affectionate enthusiasm of the Guides, which increases instead of lessening.

June 12th.—We were turned out early this morning by an attack on our outposts and position generally by the rebel army. A sharp fight ensued, which lasted some four hours. The enemy came on very boldly, and had got close to us, under cover of the trees and gardens, before they were seen; however, the troops turned out sharp, and drove them back quickly from our immediate vicinity; they were then followed up, and got most heartily thrashed. They have never yet been so punished as to-day. I estimate their loss in killed alone at 400, while our loss was comparatively trifling. The Guides behaved admirably, so did the Fusileers, as usual. Jacob's wing was the admiration of all; one officer (Captain Knox, 75th) was killed, and one or two wounded, I do not know how many European soldiers; but on the whole the affair was a very creditable one. I am safe and sound still, and again have to thank the Almighty for my preservation.

Yesterday, I was ordered by the General to assist Greathed, and one or two more engineers, in forming a project of attack, and how we would do to take Delhi. We drew up our scheme and gave it to the General, who highly approved, and will, I trust, carry it out; but how times must be changed, when four subalterns are called upon to suggest a means of carrying out so vitally important an enterprise as this, one on which the safety of the Empire depends! Wilberforce Greathed is next senior engineer to Laughton. Chesney is Major of the Engineer Brigade, and Maunsell commands the Sappers, so they had official claims to be consulted.

I was added, because the General complimentarily told me he had the utmost value for my opinion, and though I am known to counsel vigorous measures, it is equally well known I do not urge others to do what I would not be the first to do myself. It is a much more serious business than was at first anticipated. Delhi is a very strong place, and the vast resources which the possession of our arsenal has given the mutineers, has made the matter a difficult one to deal with, except by the boldest measures; the city should be carried by a coup-de-main, and that at once, or we may be many weeks before Delhi, instead of within it. All is safe at Agra, and the 3d Europeans are quietly under cover. A large party of us have just been listening to a letter from Lord W. Hay, in which he speaks in the highest terms of the conduct of some of the ladies at Simla, and says that the sense and courage exhibited by one or two of them has given a severe lesson to those who ought to know better than to require it from the weaker sex.

June 13th.—We were to have taken Delhi by assault last night, but a "mistake of orders," (?) as to the right time of bringing the troops to the rendezvous, prevented its execution. I am much annoyed and disappointed at our plan not having been carried out, because I am confident it would have been successful. The rebels were cowed, and perfectly ignorant of any intention of so bold a stroke on our part as an assault; the surprise would have done everything. I am very vexed, though the General is most kind and considerate in trying to soothe my disappointment,—too kind, indeed, or he would not so readily have pardoned those whose fault it is that we are still outside Delhi.

June 14th.—There was another smart engagement last night, the 60th Native Infantry having thought fit to signalize their arrival at Delhi by an attack upon our position; they suffered for it, as usual, but also, as usual, we lost several good men whom, God knows, we can ill spare. Mr. Kennedy was wounded, and a Subadar and some men of the Guides killed. I was not very much under fire, though I had to run the gantlet now and then of a rain of shot and shells with which the rebels belabored us. Our artillery officers themselves say that they are outmatched by these rascals in accuracy and rapidity of fire; and as they have unlimited supplies of guns and ammunition from our own greatest arsenal, they are quite beyond us in many respects. I am just returned from a long ride to look after a party of plunderers from the city, who had gone round our flank; I disposed of a few.

June 15th.—I have had a night and day of great anxiety, owing to fresh rumors of an outbreak at Simla. I have much confidence in Lord W. Hay's judgment and management of the natives, but this would not be sufficient, were the station once attacked. The dÂk, however, has arrived, and quieted our apprehensions. There was a sharp fight again this morning, which lasted some hours; our loss was not great, but every man is a loss. Our project for the assault is still approved of and entertained, but put off from day to day, till it will be too late. It is now noon, and I have been out since daybreak, and must get breakfast.

June 16th.—Everybody here is infinitely disgusted at learning the truth about the report of a riot at Simla, and the opinion is universal that —— ought to be removed. Neville Chamberlain is Adjutant-General of the army, and Pat Grant Commander-in-Chief. I do not think either of them will approve of any "soldier" showing his prowess in fighting helpless women and children, or of one whose only courage is exhibited on a peaceful parade, or when an unfortunate subaltern is to be bullied. The weather is intense to-day, and I am uncomfortable from having caught a heavy cold, but it will soon go off, I dare say. I mentioned that four of us had been ordered to prepare a project of attack, and that we had suggested and arranged a bold but perfectly feasible coup-de-main; it was approved and ordered, but in consequence of ——'s not bringing up his troops, was forced to be abandoned; it has again been ordered, countermanded, and finally abandoned. A council of war sat yesterday, and resolved to wait for reinforcements!! our scheme, however, is on record, and our names attached. General Barnard told me yesterday he wished I was a captain, for he would pledge himself to get me a majority for what I had already done; he thought he "might safely promise that at least." But, alas! I am not a captain.

June 18th.—I was not able to write yesterday, for the cold I mentioned as having caught in common with many others in camp, turned into a sharp attack of bronchitis, or inflammation on the chest, and I was really very ill for some hours. To-day I am thankful to say I am much better, though very weak; the inflammation has disappeared, and I hope to be on my horse again to-morrow, in spite of all the doctor says. Every one is very kind, the General particularly so; he insists on having me in his own tent, as being so much larger than my own, and he takes the most fatherly care of me. I can see no reason strong enough to induce me to consent to any ladies coming to camp; it is true that a Captain ——, who with his wife escaped from Delhi to UmbÂla, has dragged the unfortunate woman back here again, though expecting her confinement, and with not a shadow of comfort or shelter, except a tent. Even Mrs. ——,[25] and all the others of her sex, have been sent back to Meerut; they never ought to have been allowed to come with us; the greatest consolation to us here is the thought that those dearest to us are in safety, and free from the heat and dangers and annoyances of our life here. Poor Brown was badly wounded last night in the shoulder. I much fear that Dr. Hay has been murdered at Bareilly; his name is among the missing, and scarcely a hope remains.

June 19th.—I am up and dressed, and crawling about a little to-day, but much weaker than I fancied, and dizzy with quinine, and vexed at being useless at such a time. The General nurses me as if I were his son. I woke in the night, and found the kind old man by my bedside, covering me carefully up from the draught. The delay and absolute want of progress here is very disheartening. There have been repeated attacks upon us; all of course with the same result, (but, for that matter, we are as nearly besieged as the rebels themselves are,) and we lose valuable lives in every encounter, the sum total of which would swell the catalogue to the dimensions of that of a general engagement. Our plan of carrying the city by a coup-de-main was frustrated the first night by the fears and absolute disobedience of orders of ——, the man who first lost Delhi, and has now by folly prevented its being recaptured. The General has twice since wished and even ordered it, but has always been thwarted by some one or other; latterly by that old woman ——, who has come here for nothing, apparently, but as an obstacle; —— is also a crying evil to us. The General knows this, and wants to get rid of him, but has not the nerve to supersede him; the whole state of affairs here is bad to a degree; it is true we always thrash the fellows when we can get at them, for they are contemptible as an enemy in the open field, being formidable in numbers only; but the immense resources placed in their hands, by the possession of our magazine and arsenal, inside a walled and fortified town, make it very difficult for an army, unless provided with a proper siege equipment and engineer park, to drive them out in orthodox fashion we have certainly plenty of guns, but we have not men to work them; and of the latter, thanks to ——, we have absolutely nothing, so we do nothing but fire away long shots at the distance of a mile, and repel the enemy's attacks; instead of which we ought to have had our batteries close up to the walls, and been through them, days ago. It was from the conviction that we had no regular means of reducing the place by the fire of our artillery, and at the distance we now are from the walls, and that it was vain to expect our commandant of artillery to attempt any bolder stroke than ordinary with the few guns for which he had hands, which induced me to press the capture of the place by assault, blowing open the gates with powder bags, and rushing in with the bayonet. All was arranged, and under Providence I venture to believe success was certain, but as I say, all was frustrated by terror and disobedience. I fear now nothing can be done for many days, and until other troops arrive; meanwhile the evil is spreading, and disaffection, to use a mild term, increasing. I fear there is no room to doubt that Dr. Hay is dead; he was actually hung, with other civilians, in the market-place at Bareilly, after going through a mock form of trial. All the Europeans at Shahjehanpoor have, we hear, been murdered while they were in church, at the same moment, as nearly as possible, that the Bareilly tragedy was going on.

June 20th.—I am much better to-day, but still very weak, yet work I must. There was a sharp fight again last evening. The enemy came down and attacked our rear, and a sharp conflict ensued between some 2,000 Sepoys with six guns, and 300 Europeans with one gun. The result was as usual, but two events occurred which were important for me. Colonel Becher was shot through the right arm, and Captain Daly badly hit through the shoulder.

The consequence is, that I have in effect to see to the whole work of the Quartermaster-General of the army; and in addition, the General has begged me as a personal favor to take command of the Guides until Daly has recovered. I at first refused, but the General was most urgent, putting it on the ground that the service was at stake, and none was so fit, &c. &c. I do feel that we are bound to do our best just now to put things on a proper footing, and after consulting Seaton and Norman, I accepted the command. How —— will gnash his teeth to see me leading my dear old Guides again in the field. If I can but keep it till Delhi is taken I shall be satisfied, for I think I shall be able to do something towards so favorable a result. Shebbeare was appointed second in command at my request. He is an excellent soldier. General Barnard[26] has written most strongly in my favor, and has voluntarily pledged himself to get me my majority as soon as ever I am a captain. I confess I feel a little proud at being earnestly requested to take again the command of which the machinations of my enemies had deprived me. Our loss altogether last night was not more than 50 killed and wounded; we took two guns;—enemy's loss about 500.

June 21st.—I have been on horseback to-day for the first time since this attack of illness, so I may be considered finally recovered, only I still feel considerable weakness. It is very annoying not to be quite up to the mark in these stirring times, especially when so much work has fallen to my lot. I am fortunate, however, in not being, like many of our poor fellows, laid up with wounds and serious ailments. God has been very good to me, and in nothing more so than in preserving what is most precious to me from the horrible danger and suffering of so many of our poor countrywomen and children. How thankful I am now that Reginald exchanged into an European corps. I never see any of these unhappy refugees, as we call the poor officers whose regiments have mutinied, wandering about the camp, without uttering a mental thanksgiving that he is safe from that at least. I feel more strongly every hour that I should not have been justified in refusing the command of the Guides under present circumstances. We are, in point of fact, reduced to merely holding our own ground till we get more men. The drain on our resources has been enormous, while those of the enemy have proved so much greater, both in men, ammunition, and strength of position, than we expected, and they have fought us so much more perseveringly than was deemed possible, that it has become imperatively necessary to be stronger before striking the final blow. The plan for carrying the city[27] by assault, which I feel convinced would then have been successful, has now become impracticable. The enemy are stronger, we are weaker; besides that, they would be prepared for any coup-de-main now. General Johnstone is to be here by the 23d, we hope with considerable reinforcements, and more will follow. I trust that a few days then will end this business, as far as Delhi is concerned, and so enable a part, at least, of the force to move on towards Allygurh, and reopen the roads and dÂks, and restore order for the time; but when the end will be, who can say?

The rising in Rohilcund will, I fear, assume formidable proportions and give us much trouble, as I think we shall scarcely be able to do anything there before the cold weather. There is, in fact, every prospect of a long and tedious campaign. May God's wisdom direct and His mercy defend us!

June 22d.—The hottest day we have had yet; but while I know that the hill stations are quiet, I can bear anything with equanimity. The rumors down here, of all that has been doing and feared at Simla, have been enough to unnerve any one who does not know the truth. Lord W. Hay's judgment and energy deserve every praise. Personally, I cannot but feel gratified at the marked pleasure all hands, high and low, have shown at my renewed command of the Guides. All congratulate me as if they were personally interested; and as to the men themselves, their vociferous, and I really believe honest, delight is quite overpowering. The wounded generally are doing well, poor fellows, considering the heat, dirt, and want of any bed but the dry ground. Their pluck is wonderful, and it is not in the field alone that you see what an English soldier is made of. One poor fellow who was smoking his pipe and laughing with the comrade by his side, was asked, what was the matter with him, and he answered in a lively voice, "Oh, not much, sir, only a little knock on the back; I shall be up and at the rascals again in a day or two." He had been shot in the spine, and all his lower limbs were paralyzed. He died next day. Colonel Welchman[28] is about again; too soon, I fear, but there is no keeping the brave old man quiet. Poor Peter Brown[29] is very badly wounded, but he is cheerful, and bears up bravely. Jacob[30] has "come out" wonderfully. He is cool, active, and bold, keeps his wits about him under fire, and does altogether well. We are fortunate in having him with the force. Good field-officers are very scarce indeed; I do not wonder at people at a distance bewailing the delay in the taking of Delhi. No one not on the spot can appreciate the difficulties in the way, or the painful truth that those difficulties increase upon us. The very large reinforcements which the enemy are receiving, (the whole Bareilly and Rohilcund force, some 5,000 men, are on their way to join,) more than counterbalance the aid which can reach us, so that when the last party arrives the odds will still be immensely against us. It would not so much signify if we could but get them into the open field, but for every gun we can bring to bear upon them they can bring four heavier ones against us. We drive them before us like chaff in the field, but they can and do attack us in two or three quarters at once, and our unfortunate soldiers are worked off their legs. I do not say this to make matters look gloomy, for I am as confident as ever of the result; but we may be a long while yet, and a weary while too, before that result is arrived at. Baird Smith will be here as Chief Engineer in a day or two, and if we can manage to get some batteries made suddenly, we may carry the city shortly; but there are great obstacles. I regret more than ever that the assault was not made on the night of the 11th, when they were unprepared for us, and so much fewer in numbers. Now they increase daily, and the city is so overflowing, that the rascals are encamped outside the gates under cover of their formidable batteries, and in the glacis; so much for giving our arsenal into native keeping. All is well at Agra; beyond that, we know nothing.

June 23d.—The rebels came out again this morning in considerable force, with the avowed intention of attacking us on all sides. They have been frustrated, however, save on one point, and firing is still going on. They do little more than annoy us, and the only great evil they cause, is the keeping our men out for hours in this scorching heat. The worst of all is, that we can do but little harm to them, as they are well under cover. The rascals most forward to-day are the Jullundur troops, who ought never to have been allowed to join the king of the rebels here at Delhi; why they were not pursued and cut up, is at present a mystery, but indignation is strong in camp against those who suffered their escape.

General Johnstone has met with a serious accident at Paneeput, I hear; most unfortunate indeed.

June 23d.—An amusing story is told À propos of the fight this morning. A rascally Pandy, thinking all was over, put his head out of the window of one of the houses, in the shade of which a few Europeans and Goorkhas were resting. One of the latter jumped up, laid hold of the rebel by his hair, and with one chop of his "kookrie" took off his head. Atkinson should make a sketch of this for the Illustrated News. Sarel, of the 9th Lancers, came in this morning, in an incredibly short space of time, from his shooting expedition in the interior, ten days' journey beyond Simla. He reports all quiet there, thank God! I am sadly weak, I find, and have been obliged to change my work from the saddle to the pen more than once to-day. This want of physical strength depresses me. It is a burden to me to stand or walk, and the excessive heat makes it difficult for me to recover from that sharp attack of illness. The doctors urge me to go away for a little to get strength,—as if I could leave just now, or as if I would if I could.

June 24th.—I have been in the saddle nearly all day, though obliged occasionally to rest a bit when I could find shelter. One of my halts was by the side of Alfred Light, who has behaved magnificently under trial and difficulty. It does me good to see the "Light of the ballroom" working away at his guns, begrimed with dust and heat, ever cheery and cool, though dead beat from fatigue and exposure. He is one of a thousand, and a host in himself.

The enemy turned us out very early, and the firing continued without intermission till dark, and such a day; liquid fire was no name for the fervent heat. Colonel Welchman got an ugly wound in the arm, and Dennis was knocked down by the sun, and numbers of the men; but nothing less than a knock-down blow from sun, sword, or bullet, stops a British soldier. How well they fought to-day; and to do them justice, so did my old Guides and my new Sikhs, while the little Goorkhas vied with any in endurance and courage; but the mismanagement of matters is perfectly sickening. Nothing the rebels can do will equal the evils arising from incapacity and indecision.

Fortunately, Neville Chamberlain has arrived, and he ought to be worth a thousand men to us. I can but remember when Lord Dalhousie gave me the command of the Guides, how anxious he was for me to exchange it with him for the Military Secretaryship at Lahore. Spite of all, I can never regret not having yielded, for I feel that these two years of persecution and suffering have been of service to me. I can truly say, it is good for me to have been afflicted, and I am conscious of being more fitted either for the Victoria Cross or the soldier's grave! I do not think either that Chamberlain bears me any ill-will, rather the contrary; but did he do so, I would lose anything personally, for the sake of having his influence predominant at head-quarters. I am neither downhearted nor desponding when I say that with our present chiefs I see no chance of taking Delhi. It might have been done many days ago, (certes, it was not for want of a distinct plan being before them or a willing leader,) but they have not the nerve nor the heart for a bold stroke requiring the smallest assumption of responsibility. Horses are very scarce here, and I have the greatest difficulty in getting my own men mounted. Mr. Montgomery is helping me wonderfully with men, and I receive offers for service daily, but in these mutinous times it is necessary to be cautious. A telegraph from Agra says, "Heavy firing at Cawnpore: result not known."

June 25th.—There is little doing to-day, save a vain fire of long shots, and I fear nothing effective will be done till the 8th and 61st arrive. I hope much from Chamberlain. The General, though one of the kindest and best of men, has neither health nor nerve enough for so responsible, and really very difficult, a position as that he is now in. Our loss in officers and men bears a sadly large proportion to our successes. In the 1st Fusileers it is, too, melancholy: Colonel Welchman with a very bad hit in the arm, in addition to his sickness when he came to Delhi from Dugshai; Greville down with fever; Wriford with dysentery; Dennis with sunstroke; Brown with wounds. Jacob and the "boys" have all the work to themselves, and well indeed do the boys behave, with a courage and coolness that would not disgrace veterans. Little Tommy Butler, Owen, Warner, all behave like heroes, albeit with sadly diminishing numbers to lead. I am vexed at the mistakes or falsehoods of the newspaper reports. So far from having been wounded in the fight of the 19th, I was not even present, but ill in bed. When Colonel Becher came into camp wounded, I got up and struggled into the saddle, and tried to get far enough to send up fresh troops; but I had not got ten yards before I fell from my horse, and was all but carried back to my tent again.

I am more and more convinced that I was right not to persist in my refusal to take again the command of the Guides. It was so pressed on me, and surely the best eradication of the reproach of removal was the being asked to reassume it in times of difficulty and danger like these.

That this is the general view of the case is shown by the warm and hearty congratulations I meet with on all sides. There is but one rule of action for a soldier in the field, as for a man at all times: to do that which is best for the public good; to make that your sole aim, resting assured that the result will in the end be best for individual interest also. I am quite indifferent not to see my name appear in newspaper paragraphs and despatches; only content if I can perform my duty truly and honestly, and too thankful to the Almighty if I am daily spared for future labors or future repose.

The story prevalent in the hills, that 7,000 of the enemy are pitched in the open plain, is a mere magnification of the simple fact, that a surplus portion of the rebels have encamped under cover of their guns, and close up under the wall of the city, and remain there all night, but this is on the side opposite us. We are not very well off, quant À la cuisine. I never had so much trouble in getting anything fit to eat, except when I dine with the General. Colonel Seaton[31] lives in my tent, and is a great companion; his joyous disposition is a perpetual rebuke to the croakers. Don't believe what is said about our batteries doing no harm. The same was said of Muttra, yet, when we entered, scarcely a square yard was unploughed by our shot. One of the native officers of the Guides (you know how ingenious they are at disguise) got into the city as a spy, and remained there four days. He reports great dissension and quarrelling among themselves. Robbery and fighting and everything that is bad, between the newly arrived rebels and the city people. This account my own native newsletters confirm. The 9th Native Infantry had already decamped, and thousands would follow if they dared. This last, I doubt; the spirit of bravado, if not of bravery, is as yet too strong. The rascals in the last engagement came out in their red coats and medals!

June 26th.—I have been so hard at work the whole day, that I can only find time to say the enemy has made no sortie to-day, but Pandy amuses himself with firing long shots incessantly; all well, however.

27th.—We were turned out before I had hardly turned in, by another attack of the rebels. This time a faint one, which has been already repulsed with trifling loss on our side. For a short time, however, the cannonade was very heavy, and I have seldom been under a hotter fire than for about three quarters of an hour at our most advanced battery, covered every moment with showers, or rather clouds, of dust, stones, and splinters; but we kept close, and no one was hurt. There has been an outcry throughout camp at ——'s having fled from BhÁgput, the bridge which caused me so much hard riding and hard work to get, some time ago. A report came that a portion of the mutineers were moving in that direction, and he fairly bolted, leaving boats, bridge, and all! Yet he had with him all the Rajah of Jheend's men, horse, foot, and guns, and never even saw the twinkle of a musket. In fact, it is not at all sure that an enemy was ever near him. By this conduct he has not only cut us off from all communication with Meerut, but actually left the boats to be used or destroyed by the enemy. Our reinforcements are in sight, at least the camp of the 8th, and I do trust no further delay will take place in our getting possession of Delhi. The insurgents are disheartened, and I have no doubt but that the moment we get possession of a single gate the greater portion of them will run out through the opposite ones. The only formidable part of the enemy is their artillery, which is amazingly well-served, and in prodigious abundance, as my experience this morning abundantly proved. Harris, of the 2d European Bengal Fusileers, was wounded this morning, but not dangerously. All quiet at Agra, we believe, but no particulars known.

June 28th.—I have just got orders to proceed to BhÁgput, some twenty-five miles off, on the Jumna, and see what the real state of affairs is, and try to save the boats, so I have only time to say I am much better and stronger, which is a great comfort, for I could not have ridden the distance, a few days ago. The rains have begun, and the air is colder and more refreshing, though not exactly what one could wish. Certainly the hot season in India is not the pleasantest time in the year for campaigning, and this the rascally mutineers were fully aware of before they began. Colonel Greathed and the 8th came in this morning, and the 61st will be here to-morrow.

June 29th.—I was thirteen hours and a half in the saddle without intermission yesterday, and got back to camp after midnight, very tired, but none the worse; fortunately, I had a cloudy day and a tolerably cool breeze for my work. I recovered the boats and found all quiet, in spite of ——'s disgraceful flight. He had not even the sense or courage to draw the boats over to our side of the river, consequently, three were burnt and the whole place plundered. So much for acting on native reports, without at least attempting to ascertain their accuracy. The consequences are bad and discreditable to a degree.

I doubt whether General Barnard used the exact expression reported regarding Tombs, but he did say, and well he might, that he was as gallant and good a soldier as any in camp, and so indeed he is.

The fight of the 23d was a much more severe one than was reported. It was not over till dark, and our loss was the heaviest we have yet had to deplore, since we got here on the 8th.

Reports must not be depended on. The fact was, Major Olpherts arrived early in the morning. I myself galloped out to meet him, and as he passed, when the fight had just commenced, he fired once at the enemy, and then came into camp to rest his men after their long march. We were out the whole day until dark, and half dead with fatigue. Colonel Welchman suffers severely from his wound, but bears it bravely, as does Peter Brown.

Everything quiet to-day, no firing on either side. I do hope this part of the business will soon be over, and that they will only wait for the 61st and Coke's regiment, both of which will be here to-morrow or next day. Colonel Seaton himself recommended the disarming of his old Corps, the 35th Native Infantry. To-day we hear it has been done. All was safe at Cawnpore and Lucknow up to our last news.

July 2d.—I have been quite unable to write since the 29th, on the night of which I was ordered off again to BhÁgput, to try to bring the boats down to camp, either to make a bridge here or a "stop" for the enemy. The order was given with the complimentary addenda from the General, "because I can trust your judgment quite as much as your energy." I expected to be back in good time on the 30th, but the winds and waves were against me, and I could not get my fleet of boats down the river.

Shebbeare was with me, and we worked like a couple of "navvies," passing the two days and one night on the banks of the river, without shelter, and almost without food, for we had nothing but a couple of "chupatties," each, and a small tin of soup and a little tea, which I fortunately took with me. Poor Shebbeare would soon lose the graceful rotund of his figure if he were long on such short commons, but I do not think any amount of starvation could reduce my horizontal dimensions.

All's well that ends well, however, and I succeeded in getting every boat safe into camp last night. I missed the skirmish of the 30th by being at BhÁgput. The 61st have arrived, rich in twenty officers. We are getting more supplies now, and I have set myself up with plates and dishes for the small charge of one rupee. Colonel Seaton's traps and servants will be here to-day, and then we shall be comfortable, for hitherto a very limited allowance for one has been but small accommodation for two. For my new regiment two complete troops are on their way from Lahore and will be here on the 8th, and another troop from Jugraon should be here in a week. Two more troops are preparing at Lahore.

Montgomery takes the most kind interest in my new Corps, and I am rejoiced and comforted to find that he cordially approves of my having accepted the Guides. I have as much confidence in his judgment as in his kindness. —— has been shelved, and allowed to get "sick" to save him from supersession. I do not like euphuisms. In these days men and things should be called by their right names, that we might know how far either should be trusted.

Sir E. Campbell arrived here to-day by mail-cart, and will be a valuable addition to the 60th, or he will belie his descent from the Bourbons and Fitzgeralds. He is a man you can always trust, which is saying something in these hard times.

July 3d.—Whatever I may have sacrificed of pride and personal feeling to a sense of duty, I shall be fully rewarded by entering Delhi at the head of the Guides. Here at least there is but one opinion on the subject. My poor gallant Guides! they have suffered severely for their fidelity to our cause, above a fourth of the whole having been killed or wounded, including some of our best men. Koor Singh, the little Goorkha Subadar who won the Order of Merit in that stiff affair at Boree in '53, is gone, and others whom we could ill afford to lose, now that so much depends on the fidelity of the native officers,—the Guides more than all. Surely, then, I am right, knowing and feeling that my influence with them is so great, to sink every personal consideration before the one great end of public safety, which implies that of ourselves and those dear to us. If we fail here at Delhi, not a soul in the Punjaub or Upper Provinces would be safe for a day.

July 5th.—It was impossible for me to write by yesterday's dÂk, for the rebels got into our rear during the night of the 3d, and attacked Alipoor, the first stage from hence on the KurnÂl road. I was out reconnoitring, and saw them moving out some five miles on our right. I reported their position at 7 p. m. on the 3d, but not until 3 a. m. of the 4th were any measures taken, by which time, of course, they had attained their end, and were in full march back to Delhi. At daybreak yesterday I pointed out their exact whereabouts to Coke, (who commanded the party sent to attack them,) and I did not get back to camp till 8 p. m.; a hard day's work, especially as I had no breakfast, nor indeed food of any kind, and hunger makes the heat tell.

We beat 5,000 of the rebels in the morning, and were twice attacked by upwards of 3,000 in the course of the day. I took the Guides in pursuit (as soon as our guns had driven the enemy from their position), and drove them into a village. Unfortunately we did not do half as well as we ought, for though Coke is a good commandant of a regiment, and a good man for the frontiers, he is no general, and did not manage well, or we should have cut up numbers of the enemy and taken their guns.

Our loss was about thirty or forty Europeans, and three of my native officers temporarily disabled. Both men and horses were terribly knocked up towards the end of the day, and could hardly crawl back to camp, and no wonder. I was mercifully preserved, though I am sorry to say my gallant "Feroza" was badly wounded twice with sabre cuts, and part of his bridle cut through, and a piece of my glove shaved off, so it was rather close work. My men, who were most engaged of all, escaped with the loss of one killed and six wounded, and six horses put hors de combat. I am dissatisfied with the day's work, inasmuch as more might have been done, and what was done is only satisfactory as a proof of the ease with which Anglo-Saxons can thrash Asiatics at any odds. Yesterday they were at least from ten to fifteen to one against us. To-day General Barnard has been attacked with cholera, I grieve to say; and Colonel Welchman is very ill indeed. The doctors dread erysipelas, which at his age would be serious; beyond this, the wounded are generally doing well.

July 6th.—Poor General Barnard died last night, and was buried this morning. He sank rapidly, for anxiety, worry, over-exertion, and heat had prepared his system, and it was impossible for him to bear up against the virulence of cholera. Personally, I am much grieved, for no kinder or more considerate or more gentlemanly man ever lived. I am so sorry for his son, a fine brave fellow, whose attention to his father won the love of us all. It was quite beautiful to see them together.

I have just seen a copy of a very strong minute anent the BhÁgput affair, which shows the General was not disposed to pass it over lightly. The civil authorities, however, are determined to support ——, though in camp there is but one opinion of his conduct. The present state of things is terrible, enough to fret one to death,—no head, no brains, no decision. Neville Chamberlain, though of decided excellence as a man of action, is, I begin to fear, but a poor man of business. Prompt decision in council is what we want; there is no lack of vigorous action. There are plenty to obey; but we want some one to command. We have seen nothing of the enemy outside the walls since the 4th. I am worked off my legs all the same, and the day is not half long enough for what I have to do. To make matters worse, too, poor Macdowell is down with fever: a sad loss just now to "Hodson's Horse," as they call my growing corps. I am sadly off for clothes, as we of course are only too glad to help the poor refugees who come into camp with none.

July 8th.—We left camp at 2 a. m. with a considerable force, and marched to a bridge some ten miles off, which we blew up to prevent the enemy annoying us, and then marched back again. I tried hard to induce Chamberlain, who commanded, to march back by another road, which I had reconnoitred, and which would have brought us close along the rear and flank of the enemy, but he would not do so, though admitting that I was right. We have had eleven hours in the saddle and in the sun, merely for this trifling gain. My face is like "General Gascoigne's," and my hands perfectly skinless. I must get some dogskin gloves, for it is as much as I can do to hold a sword, much less a pen. There has been no fighting since the 4th, and my news-writers from the city speak of much disheartenment, and symptoms of a break-up; but I doubt this latter being more than a report, while the enemy are so well provided both with "matÉriel" and "personnel."

I have just returned from a long chase after a party of the enemy's horse, safe and unhurt, but drenched to the skin by a cataract of rain. There has been some hard fighting to-day. The 8th Irregulars from Bareilly came into our camp, thanks to the defection of a party of the 9th Irregular Cavalry, who were on picket duty. The rascals consequently were enabled to get into our very lines, and cut down one officer at his guns. There was a tremendous row and confusion for a short time, but we soon put it to rights. I had warned the authorities repeatedly, that the Irregulars were not to be trusted, but they were too fainthearted or "merciful" (Heaven forgive me for using such a word about such villains) to disarm them, and both the regiments, about which I reported, have since gone wrong.

July 10th.—We are nearly flooded out of camp by the rain, and everything is wet and wretched but ourselves. I have no respite from work, however, and have only time to say that the ladies in the hills could not employ themselves better or in a greater work of charity than in making flannel shirts for the soldiers, for our stores are either in the enemy's hands or not come-at-able. The soldiers bear up like men, but the constant state of wet is no small addition to what they have to endure from heat, hard work, and hard fighting. I know by experience what a comfort a dry flannel shirt is.

There is a sad joke against me in camp, and I cannot help joining in the laugh against myself, though enraged at having been the victim of such a sell. Fancy my riding up to a party of horse, and asking who they were, being told they were our own men, 9th Irregulars, and then marching parallel to them for three miles, and not three quarters of a mile apart, when, had I known who they were, I could have destroyed every man.[32] Mr. Saunders arrived in camp to-day, looking as fat and well as possible, though he and his pretty wife had a narrow escape and hard day's riding from Moradabad.

July 11th.—Pen-work again all day, as the enemy seem to prefer keeping under cover from the rain.

Mr. ——'s story is so far true, that I did earnestly urge the construction of a bridge with the boats I brought down from BhÁgput, but without success. There are difficulties, I admit, and great ones, but I humbly think they might be overcome now, as they certainly could three weeks ago, when our plan of assault was suggested, and adopted by General Barnard. There is a sad outcry in camp against Chamberlain for having used his influence to prevent the disarming of what remains of the 9th Irregulars. Numbers of them had deserted, and one native officer, and those who were on picket duty, actually admitted a party of the enemy into our camp; and yet, forsooth, because they were Chamberlain's regiment once on a time, the order to disarm them, which the General had actually issued, was cancelled. I confess I expected better things than this weakness, when our very lives depend on firmness and decision. Light has just come in off duty, so begrimed with smoke and powder as scarcely to be distinguished even by his own men. He is admitted to be one of the best of our officers, and certainly one of the hardest working. Tombs always distinguishes himself.

July 12th.—300 of my new regiment have just arrived. 100 more left Lahore on the 7th, and 100 will be here very soon from the Sutlej. Mr. Montgomery has done me most essential service, as I could never by myself (with another regiment to command, and so much pen-work to do) have got so many men together; and everything he does is so complete. He sends figured statements giving all details regarding men and horses, (these last are very difficult to get,) which will save me much time and labor hereafter. He has been really most kind, and has, moreover, during this troublous time, evinced an energy, decision, and vigor for which I believe the world hardly gave him credit. For officers, I hope to have permanently, Macdowell, Shebbeare, (now acting as my 2d in command of the Guides, and a most excellent officer,) and Hugh Gough of the 3d Cavalry. Saunders made ——'s removal a "sine qua non" before he would take charge of the district. He came to me to recommend a good officer to command the Jheend troops. I named that merry grig, George Hall, who is, I believe, available, and a really good soldier. I have got a very nice lad "pro tem." in the Guides, young Craigie, who promises very well indeed. I have seven officers attached to the Guides, but two are wounded, and Chalmers is very ill. Young Ellis of the 1st Fusileers is down with cholera, poor boy; and Colonel Welchman dangerously ill and in great agony. I grieve deeply for the brave old man, for I fear we shall lose him.

July 13th.—We have had news from Agra to-day up to the 7th. The Neemuch rebels and others approached Agra from the south. The 3d Europeans and D'Oyley's Battery went out to meet them with the Kotah Contingent. The Contingent turned against us as soon as they came in sight of the enemy. A fight ensued, in which the mutineers got well beaten, despite the treachery and great disparity of numbers; two of their guns were taken. On our side we lost one gun, the tumbrels having been blown up and the horses killed. All our men's ammunition was expended, and they had to retire in good order into the fort. D'Oyley was killed and two officers wounded. Thirty casualties in all. The mutineers then rushed into cantonments, which they burnt and pillaged; then broke open the great jail and released the prisoners. They did not venture near the fort, but marched off towards Muttra, and will, I suppose, come here. The delay here is sickening; if it continues much longer, we shall be too weak-handed to attempt to take the place until fresh regiments arrive.

I inspected my three new troops this morning; very fine-looking fellows, most of them. I am getting quite a little army under me, what with the Guides and my own men. Would to Heaven they would give us something more to do than this desultory warfare, which destroys our best men, and brings us no whit nearer Delhi, and removes the end of the campaign to an indefinite period.

July 14th.—Only time[33] to say I am again mercifully preserved, safe and unhurt, after one of the sharpest encounters we have yet had. Shebbeare got wounded early in the fight, so I led the Guide Infantry myself in the skirmish of the villages and suburbs. I charged the guns with some eight horsemen, a party of the Guide Infantry and 1st Fusileers. We got within thirty yards, but the enemy's grape was too much for our small party. Three of my officers, Shebbeare, Hawes, and De Brett, slightly wounded, and several men; but though well to the front, my party suffered proportionably least.

Of the Fusileers, who were with us, some sixty men were wounded; Daniell's arm broken by a shot, Jacob's horse shot dead under him, Chamberlain shot through the arm, little Roberts wounded, and several more.

Everybody wonders I was not hit; none more than myself. God has been very merciful to me. Colonel Welchman better; Brown also. More particulars hereafter.

July 15th.—I could only write a few words last night on my return from the fight, worn out as I was with a severe day's work. It is pretty much the same now, and while I write I am obliged to have two men to keep the candle alight with their hands, for the breeze gets up at night, and we have all the "Kanats" of the tents down to enable us to breathe; and having no shades to the candlesticks, it is rather difficult to write even that I am safe.

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 vi 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 ??d?? 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.