My Dear Colonel,—We are getting on very well. I hope to take Rohtuck to-day, and I trust arrangements will be made for keeping it. The country will then be quiet from Hansie to Delhi. The Jheend Rajah should be told to take care of the district. I believe Greathed did make this arrangement, but Barnes put some spoke in the way, so that the Rajah is uncertain how to act. Please tell Greathed from me that there is nothing now to prevent the restoration of order here. I wish I had a stronger party, for though I feel quite comfortable myself, yet I should like more troops, for the sake of the men, who are not quite so easy in their minds. The road by Alipore, Boanah, and Khurkundah is the best. The canal is easily fordable at Boanah, and just below that place (at the escape) it is quite dry, the banks having given way. We polished off the Khurkundah gentry in style, though they showed fight to a great extent. It has had a wonderfully calming effect on the neighborhood. I hope the Jheend troops, or some troops, may be sent here. The Jheend men would more than suffice.

Yours very sincerely,
W. S. R. Hodson.

This is the first rest since Bohur; we have had very hard work, great heat, and long exposure; but, thank God, are all well and safe, and have done some business. I marched from Bohur on the evening of the 17th. On reaching Rohtuck, we found the Mussulman portion of the people, and a crowd of Irregulars drawn up on the walls, while a considerable party were on a mound outside. I had ridden forward with Captain Ward and a few orderlies to see how the land lay, when the rascals fired, and ran towards us. I sent word for my cavalry to come up, and rode slowly back myself, in order to tempt them out, which had partly the desired effect, and as soon as my leading troop came up, we dashed at them and drove them helter-skelter into the town, killing all we overtook. We then encamped in what was the Kutcherry compound, and had a grateful rest and a quiet night. The representatives of the better-disposed part of the population came out to me, and amply provided us with supplies for both man and beast. The rest were to have made their "amende" in the morning; but a disaffected Rangur went off early, and brought up 300 Irregular horsemen of the mutineers,—1st, 13th, 14th, and other rebels,—and having collected about 1,000 armed rascals on foot, came out to attack my little party of barely 300 sabres and six officers. The Sowars dashed at a gallop up the road, and came boldly enough up to our camp. I had, a few minutes before, fortunately received notice of their intentions, and as I had kept the horses ready saddled, we were out and at them in a few seconds. To drive them scattering back to the town was the work of only as many more, and I then, seeing their numbers, and the quantity of matchlocks brought against us from gardens and embrasures, determined to draw them out into the open country; and the "ruse" was eminently successful. I had quietly sent off our little baggage unperceived, half an hour before, so that I was, as I intended, perfectly free and unfettered by impedimenta of any sort. I then quietly and gradually drew off troop after troop into the open plain about a mile to the rear, covering the movement with skirmishers. My men, new as well as old, behaved coolly and admirably throughout, though the fire was very annoying, and a retreat is always discouraging, even when you have an object in view. My officers, fortunately first-rate ones, behaved like veterans, and everything went on to my complete satisfaction. Exactly what I had anticipated happened. The enemy thought we were bolting, and came on in crowds, firing and yelling, and the Sowars brandishing their swords as if we were already in their hands, when suddenly I gave the order, "Threes about, and at them." The men obeyed with a cheer; the effect was electrical; never was such a scatter. I launched five parties at them, each under an officer, and in they went, cutting and firing into the very thick of them. The ground was very wet, and a ditch favored them, but we cut down upwards of fifty in as many seconds. The remainder flew back to the town, as if, not the Guides and Hodson's Horse, but death and the devil were at their heels. Their very numbers encumbered them, and the rout was most complete. Unfortunately I had no ammunition left, and therefore could not without imprudence remain so close to a town filled with matchlock men, so we marched quietly round to the north of the town, and encamped near the first friendly village we came to, which we reached in the early afternoon. Our success was so far complete, and I am most thankful to say with very trifling loss, only two men rather severely wounded, eight in all touched, and a few horses hit. Macdowell did admirably, as indeed did all. My new men, utterly untrained as they are, many unable to ride or even load their carabines properly, yet behaved beyond my most sanguine expectations for a first field, and this success, without loss, will encourage them greatly.

This morning I was joined by a party of Jheend horse, whom my good friend the Rajah sent as soon as he heard I was coming Rohtuck-wards, so I have now 400 horsemen, more or less, fresh ammunition having come in this morning, and am quite independent. I hear also that the General has at my recommendation sent out some troops in this direction; if so, order will be permanently restored in this district. In three days we have frightened away and demoralized a force of artillery, cavalry, and infantry some 2,000 strong, beat those who stood or returned to fight us, twice, in spite of numbers, and got fed and furnished forth by the rascally town itself.[41] Moreover, we have thoroughly cowed the whole neighborhood, and given them a taste of what more they will get unless they keep quiet in future. We count eighty-five killed, and numbers wounded, since we left Delhi, which is one good result, even if there were no other. One of them was a brute of the 14th Irregular Cavalry, who committed such butchery at Jhansi. No letters have reached me since I left camp, and I am not sure that this will reach there safely. It is a terribly egotistical detail, and I am thoroughly ashamed of saying so much of myself, but you insisted on having a full, true, and particular account, so do not think me vainglorious.

Lursowlie, August 22d.—I rode over to this place from our little camp at Sonput, eight miles off, to see Saunders and Colonel Durnsford. I find that two of my new troops have been detained on the road, but will reach Delhi in a day or two, and others from Lahore will soon arrive. I think the business at Rohtuck has been very creditable to us, but I can write no more than the assurance of our safety and well-being.

Camp, Sonput, August 23d.—I could only write a few hurried lines yesterday. Late in the evening I got a note from General Wilson, desiring me to look out for and destroy the 10th Light Cavalry mutineers from Ferozepoor. He authorized my proceeding to Jheend, but without going through the Rohtuck district. Now, as to do this would involve an immense detour, and insure my being too late, and consequently having a long and fatiguing march for my pains, I wrote back to explain this, and requested more definite instructions. He must either say distinctly "do this or that," and I will do it; or he must give me carte blanche to do what he wants in the most practicable way, of which I, knowing the country, can best judge. I am not going to fag my men and horses to death, and then be told I have exceeded my instructions. He gives me immense credit for what I have done, but "almost wishes I had not ventured so far." The old gentleman means well, but does not understand either the country or the position I was in, nor does he appreciate a tenth part of the effects which our bold stroke at Rohtuck, forty-five miles from camp, has produced. "N'importe," they will find it out sooner or later. I hear both Chamberlain and Nicholson took my view of the case, and supported me warmly.

I am much gratified by General Johnstone's exertions in my favor, though I have not the slightest idea that they will eventuate in anything; but the motive is the same. Let me do what I will, I have made up my mind to gain nothing but the approval of my own conscience. I foresee that I shall remain a subaltern, and the easygoing majors of brigade, aides-de-camp, and staff-officers will all get brevets, C. B.'s, &c., for simply living in camp, and doing their simple duties mildly and without exertion. The Victoria Cross, I confess, is the highest object of my ambition, and had I been one of fortune's favorites I should have had it ere now even, but I have learnt experience in a rough school and am prepared for the worst; but whether a lieutenant or lieutenant-general, I trust I shall continue to do my duty, to the best of my judgment and ability, as long as strength and sense are vouchsafed to me.

Camp, Delhi, August 24th.—I returned here this morning at 2 p. m., very tired and unwell, and not able to write much, for I have been obliged to have recourse to the doctor.

People have got an absurd story about my being shut up in a fort, without food or chance of escape! The General's aide-de-camp tells me the old man believed this ridiculous report and was fairly frightened, getting no sleep for two nights. However, he fully admits the good service we have rendered, and every one is making a talk and fuss about it,—as if success were uncommon! I find strong hopes of our making an assault on the city as soon as the siege train arrives, which will be in about thirteen days. Havelock seems unable or unwilling to move on, but we can hardly want him, for surely we shall have ample means for taking the city shortly.

I am to have a surgeon attached to my regiment at once, as I represented how cruel it was to send us out on an expedition without a doctor or a grain of medicine. We had eight wounded men, and two officers had fever on the road, and nothing but the most primitive means of relieving them. I asked for Dr. Charles, but there are so many senior to him waiting for a turn, that I must be content for the present with what I can get. I hope, however, to have Charles ultimately, for he is skilful, clever, a gentleman, and a Christian.

Nicholson has just gone out to look after a party of the enemy with twelve guns, who had moved out yesterday towards Nujjufghur, threatening to get into our rear. I wanted to have gone with him, but I was laughingly told to stay at home and nurse myself, and let some one else have a chance of doing good service. This was too bad, especially as Nicholson wished me to go.

26th.—It is 4 p. m., and I am only just free from people and papers, but good news must make up for brevity. General Nicholson has beaten the enemy gloriously at Nujjufghur, whither he pushed on last evening. He has taken thirteen guns, and all the camp equipage and property. Our loss was small for the gain, but two of the killed were officers,—young Lumsden of Coke's Corps, a most promising fellow, and Dr. Ireland. The victory is a great one, and will shake the Pandies' nerves, I calculate. All their shot and ammunition were also captured. The 1st Fusileers were as usual "to the fore," and did well equally as usual. I am much disappointed at not having been there, but Mactier would not hear of it, as the weather was bad, and I should have run the risk of another attack of dysentery, from which I had been suffering. I am half annoyed, half amused at the absurd stories about the Rohtuck business. We were never in any extremity whatever, nor did I ever feel the slightest anxiety, or cease to feel that I was master of the situation. Danger there must always be in war, but none of our own creating, as the fools and fearful said, ever existed; would that folks would be contented with the truth and reality of our position, and not add to its dÉsagrÉmens by idle fears and false inventions.

27th.—I have been up to my eyes in work all day again, and not had the pen out of my hand all day, except when on horseback with the men. Two troops arrived yesterday, and I have 250 spare horses to mount them, so that we are getting on by degrees. Such an experiment as raising a regiment actually in camp on active (and very active) service, was never tried before.

I most decidedly object and refuse to allow Mr. —— to publish any extracts whatever from my letters. I say nothing that I am ashamed of, nothing that is not strictly true, but my remarks on men and measures, however just, would make me many enemies, and my misfortunes have taught me, though I may not condescend to conciliate, at least to do nothing to offend. If, however, it will be any amusement to the loved ones at home to have some true sketches of this lamentable siege, and the progress in it of one dear to them, that is quite another affair, and I confess I should like to have some such references myself to look over hereafter.

28th.—I am somewhat surprised at not hearing from Agra, but I cannot be sure that my letter reached there, as several of the "Kossids" have been "scragged" on the road. Sir P. Grant will not have a long course to run, as Sir C. Campbell has been sent out to command, and is in India, I fancy, by this time. Havelock, we hear, has retreated, leaving Lucknow still unrelieved. I cannot understand this, but we have not sufficient information to enable us to judge. After all, Nicholson is the General after my heart.

29th.—I have just returned from a ride of twelve hours, leaving camp at three a. m., on a reconnoitring expedition, and have only time before the dÂk closes to say that I am safe and well. I found no enemy, and everything quiet in the direction of Nujjufghur, where I was to-day, over and beyond Nicholson's field of battle of the 25th.

30th.—I have been writing and listening all this morning till I am tired, a man having come in from Delhi, with much assurance and great promises; but he was sent back rather humbler than he came, for he fancied he should make terms, and could not get a single promise of even bare life for any one, from the King downwards. If I get into the palace, the house of Timur will not be worth five minutes' purchase, I ween; but what my share in this work will be, no one can say, as there will be little work for horsemen, and I do not now command any infantry to give me an excuse. I hope Sir C. Campbell will be here to lead us into the city, which seems probable at our present rate of no-progress. He is a very good man for the post of Commander-in-Chief, as he has had great experience in India and elsewhere, and that, recent experience. Mansfield comes out with him as chief of the staff, with the rank of Major-General.

31st.—I have little public news for you; all is expected here. The siege train will be in by the 3d or 4th, I fancy, and then I trust there will be no more waiting.

The letters from Agra show that a much greater and more formidable amount of insurrection exists than we were prepared to believe. Large bodies of insurgents have collected in different places all over the country, all well supplied with arms and guns. These are under the orders of different Nawabs, Rajahs, and big men, who think that now is their time for rule. None of these will be formidable as soon as the army is disposed of, but for a long time to come we shall have marching and fighting, punishing and dispersing, and it is to be expected that bodies of the fugitives from Delhi will join the standards of these insurgent leaders, and give us trouble here and there. The fall of Delhi will not be the end, but rather the beginning of a new campaign in the field; but the very day the active portion of the work is over, I shall ask to go to some good station, and organize and discipline my regiment, and get it properly equipped, and fit for service. At present it is merely an aggregation of untutored horsemen, ill-equipped, half clothed, badly provided with everything, quite unfit for service in the usual sense of the term, and only forced into the field because I have willed that it shall be so; but it would take six months' constant work to fit it properly for service. Generally when a regiment is raised, it is left quietly at one station until the commanding officer reports it "fit for service," and it has been inspected and reported upon by a general officer, when it is brought "on duty" by order of the Commander-in-Chief. My idea of being able to raise a regiment when in the field, and on actual, and very active service, was ridiculed and pooh-poohed, but I stuck to it that it could be done, and General Anson was only too willing I should try, hitherto with success, and with the considerable gain, to an army deficient in cavalry, of having a good body of horsemen brought at once on duty in the field. How long it may be before I am able to get to a quiet station for the purpose required, it is impossible to foresee. I shall try to get sent to UmbÂla, or as near the Punjaub as possible, because my men are all drawn from thence, and it will be easier to recruit, than at a greater distance from Sikh-land. I have got six full troops, and another is on its way down.

September 1st.—This is muster-day, and a very busy one to me, but I have written a minute letter to go by Kossid to Agra once more. The poor wretch who took my last was murdered on the road, so of course, the letter never reached Agra. The dÂk by Meerut is again suspended, so we can only send by Kossid. I have to-day got a new subaltern, a Mr. Baker, of the late 60th Native Infantry, and a doctor, so we are seven in all. I could not succeed in getting Dr. Charles just yet, but hope to do so eventually. Little Nusrut Jung has been allowed to come to me from the Guides, and I have made him a jemadar at once. It is astonishing how well he reads and remembers English. The Testament you gave him is his constant companion, he tells me, and he is as interested as ever in the history of "our wonderful prophet." The Persians are certainly a very intelligent race, this one particularly so, and the seeds you have sown will surely bring forth fruit to his eternal benefit hereafter. More than half the Guides want to come to my new corps, but this is of course out of the question. I am sending for Heratees and Candaharees, the farther from Hindostan the better. Mr. Ricketts, too, is collecting men from his district. I have at present 200 spare horses, but as I am to raise 1,200 or 1,400 men, I fear mounting them will be a difficulty; it is very difficult to work in a camp on service where so little can be got or bought. Here come more news-letters from the city, and myriads of notes, besides post-time and parade, all at once! I shall be glad when Delhi falls, and I cease to be Times, Morning Chronicle, and Post, all in one![42]

2d.—... "Hodson's Horse" made a very respectable show indeed last evening, when paraded all together for the first time, and I was much complimented on my success; there are some in the last batch from Lahore whom I shall ultimately get rid of, wild low-caste fellows, and they did not behave very well the other day at the Ravee with Nicholson; but, taken altogether, I am very well satisfied, and trust they will eventually turn out well, and do credit to the hard work I have with them. Colonel Seaton is better,—i.e., his wound is healed,—but he suffers much pain from the tender state of the scarce united muscles when he moves. The weather is very trying just now, and very unhealthy. Poor Macdowell is unwell, and I fear he will have to go away sick; he is far from strong, which is his only fault, poor boy. I like him increasingly, he is a thorough gentleman. For myself, I am wonderfully well, that is, as well as most in camp, though somewhat pulled down by heat, fatigue, and dysentery, and I am literally one of the "lean kine." All is quite quiet here; only a few occasional shots from the batteries. The Pandies are quarrelling among themselves, and are without money; they cannot hold together much longer, and I fear will break up if we do not speedily take the place. Only a chosen band (!) will rally round the King, who, after all, is but a name, for his villanous sons are the real leaders. The train is to be here to-morrow or next day, and 56 guns are to open on the walls at once. We hear that Captain Peel, of Crimean celebrity, is on his way up to Allahabad, with a naval brigade and some sixty-eight pounders from his ship The Shannon. Glorious, this. Surely with the brave little army which has withstood all (and none but ourselves can know what that "all" comprises) the trials of these last months, and our own brave "tars," we shall speedily conquer this rebellious city, and make the last of the house of Timur "eat dirt."

September 3d.— Nothing is going on here of public importance, and everything is stagnant, save the hand of the destroying angel of sickness; we have at this moment 2,500 in hospital, of whom 1,100 are Europeans, out of a total of 5,000 men (Europeans), and yet our General waits and waits for this and that arrival, forgetful that each succeeding day diminishes his force by more than the strength of the expected driblets. He talks now of awaiting the arrival of three weak regiments of Ghoolab Singh's force under Richard Lawrence, who are marching from UmbÂla. Before they arrive, if the General really does wait for them, we shall have an equivalent to their numbers sickened and dying from the delay in this plague spot. "Delhi in September" is proverbial, and this year we seem likely to realize its full horrors. The train will be here to-morrow or next day, and I hope our General will not lose a day after that. He is a good artillery officer, with an undue estimate of his own arm of the service. He seems to realize the old saying, that officers of a "special arm," such as artillery and engineers, do not make generals. Wilson, for instance, looks upon guns as engines capable mathematically of performing perfect results, and acts as cautiously as if in practice such results were ever attained by Asiatic gunners, forgetting all our glorious Indian annals, all the experience of a British army, and hesitating before an Indian foe! I never hear these old gentlemen talk without thinking of Sir Charles Napier's remarks on the Duke's comments on "Colonel Monson's retreat," and the heroic way in which he had read and profited by the lesson.

As to the extracts from my letters which Mr. B—— has asked for, I must decidedly refuse; even supposing them to be of the importance which he professes to consider them, there is a vast distinction between my publishing, or allowing to be published, my letters, and letting my friends read or make use of them. I am perfectly at liberty to write and speak freely to my friends, and they may show such parts of my letters as they think fit, to men in power and in Parliament; and these may again make use, in debate or in council, of knowledge thus gained, and details thus imparted, which would be otherwise beyond their reach. All this is right, fair, and of every-day occurrence; but I myself, as a military officer, have no right to publish, or permit to be published, comments written, in the freedom of private correspondence, on my superiors, their acts, and proceedings.

I have not the smallest objection to any of our friends seeing my written opinions, provided they know them to be extracted from private letters, and never intended for publication. I have no objection to Lord William Hay sending a copy, if he chooses, to Lord Dalhousie, or Lord Ellenborough himself even; but I cannot give permission to any one to publish what would be so injurious to my interests. You will think I have grown strangely worldly-wise; but have I not had bitter experience?

September 4th.—There is nothing to tell of public news, and even if there were I have no time to tell it, for I am very busy and hard-worked, and only too thankful to get a few minutes to say I am safe and well. I have never written of public matters except as regarded myself. As to the stories about me at Rohtuck, the papers have repeatedly published the true as well as the false version of the tale,—even the Lahore Chronicle got it pretty correctly; and after all, it is of very little consequence what the papers say as long as the correct version goes to Government and my friends. I sincerely trust we shall be in Delhi before the 15th.

September 5th.—Poor Macdowell has had a bad attack of fever, which has brought him very low. He will have to go to the hills, I very much fear. The amount of sickness is terrible; we have 2,500 men in hospital, and numbers of officers besides. Another of the 61st, Mr. Tyler, died of cholera to-day. I would give a great deal to get away, if but for a week, but I must go where I can do most towards avenging the past, and securing our common safety for the future. No arrangements are making for any movements after the capture of Delhi; we sadly want a head over us.

September 6th.—To-night I believe the engineers are really to begin work constructing batteries, so that in two or three days Delhi ought to be taken. If General Wilson delays now, he will have nothing left to take; all the Sepoys will be off to their homes, or into Rohilcund, or into Gwalior. News from Cawnpore to 25th August has been received. Up to that date Lucknow was safe, but with only fifteen days' provisions left; and apparently no vigorous measures being taken to relieve the place. Havelock has not enough men, he says; and report adds that the Governor-General has forbidden other regiments to move on, wishing to keep them at Benares to cover Calcutta. This appears incredible. The Sepoys in Delhi are in hourly expectation of our attack, and the cavalry keep their horses saddled night and day, ready to bolt at a moment's notice,—so say the news-letters. I suspect that, the moment we make an attack in earnest, the rebel force will disappear. Of public news I have none beyond this, and I am still, like every one else, in the dark as to what we do after Delhi is taken, or where and when we go. If the campaign lasts very long I shall be forced to go home next year, for even my health will not stand against many more months of wear and tear like the last. Yet who can say what even a day may bring forth, or can venture to make plans for a future year, after the experiences of the last? God's merciful providence has hitherto preserved me most wonderfully from myriads of no common dangers, and I humbly pray that I may be spared to see my home, and those who make home so dear, once more. Home, altered and bereaved as it is since I left it, still holds the precious sisters and brothers of the past, and the bright new generation with whom I long to make acquaintance.

September 7th.—News has just been received up to the 27th from Cawnpore: the garrison in Lucknow had been attacked by the enemy in vast numbers, headed by a lot of "Ghazees." They were repulsed with such severe loss that the enemy would not venture to try that game again, were the siege to be protracted for two years; they say 150 Ghazees, and between 400 and 500 Sepoys were killed. Colonel Otter was appointed commandant of Allahabad, at which I rejoice, for he will "come out strong" whenever he has a chance. One of our batteries was armed (i.e., guns put into it) last night, and the bigger one will be made to-night; so that by the 9th I trust Delhi will be ours.

September 8th.—To-day two new batteries, constructed during the night for the heavy guns, opened on the walls and bastions of the city, and the cannonade on both sides has been very heavy; to-morrow other batteries will be ready, and on the following day fifty guns, I trust, will be at work on the doomed city. Very little loss was experienced during the night, only two men being hit; and the casualties to-day have been surprisingly few. I cannot believe there will be any serious resistance when once the enemy's guns are silenced. There is at present nothing to lead one to suppose that the enemy have any intention of fighting it out in the city, after we have entered the breach. All, I fancy, who can, will be off as soon as we are within the walls. The General has not decided yet on the operations which are to succeed Delhi; he says he shall send a strong column in pursuit, which I hope will be under Nicholson, but he has not settled who is to go, or who to stay. I trust I may be among the pursuers. I am constantly interrupted by business, and the necessity of watching the enemy, lest any attempt should be made to turn our flank while we are busied with the batteries in front. For myself, I am not necessarily much exposed to fire, except every now and then; I never run into danger unless obliged to do so for some rightful purpose, and where duty and honor call.

Sept. 9th.—... To descend to life's hard struggle; our guns are blazing away, but only in partial numbers as yet, the work having been necessarily distributed over two nights instead of one. The garrison at Lucknow is all well, and likely to continue so, for they have plenty of wheat, though no European supplies. However, British soldiers have worked and fought on bread and water ere now, and will do it again; and I have no doubt the gallant 32d will keep up their spirit and their fame. Reinforcements were reaching Cawnpore, and Sir J. Outram was on his way up with 1,500 more soldiers and some artillery. Cholera, their worst enemy, had disappeared, and their communication with Calcutta was quite open. Sir Colin had reached Calcutta, and taken command of the army. I do hope he will come up country at once, and Colonel Napier with him. Poor Alfred Light, after five weeks' severe illness, leaves to-night for the hills, to save his life. Hay has been written to, to take him in; if he cannot, I am sure you will do so. Poor fellow! I have a real regard for him, and it is a terrible disappointment that he cannot be at the actual taking of Delhi, having been so long before the walls. Sickness is terribly on the increase, and Wilson talks of getting into Delhi on the 21st. If the sickness does increase he won't have a sound man left by the 21st.

I was up till 2 a. m. in the trenches, examining the work, and helping what little I could,[43] and almost ever since I have been on horseback, and a terrible hot day it has been in all ways. Some of the enemy's horse came out and began to poach on our preserves, and I had to go after them; they are such essential cowards that it is impossible to bring them to a regular fight; they will not come from within reach of their shelter, running off at once to cover, where it would be madness to go after them. The new batteries did not begin to-day, after all; they were not quite ready, and the engineers would not let them open fire.... I am very much pleased with ——'s letter, and rejoice that he is out on an expedition; the change of air will do him good after that frightful cholera. His story[44] of the soldier might be matched by many a rough compliment I get from the men of the 1st Fusileers; the most genuine perhaps, certainly the most grateful to my feelings, of any I receive; a soldier is generally the best and shrewdest judge of an officer's qualifications.

September 11th.—There is no public news, except that the batteries are working away at the walls; but our engineers have failed terribly in their estimate of the time required for the works, and all the batteries are even yet not finished. It is now, however, only a question of days, one or two more or less, and Delhi must be ours. I shall be very thankful to get away from here. I look upon this as the very worst climate I have ever been in, and another month would make us all ill. Another of my officers, Captain Ward, is very ill, and two more are ailing. Macdowell, I am thankful to say, is a little better. The natives, too, are very sick, and a large number are in hospital; in short, we want to be in Delhi.

September 12th.—I was interrupted in the midst of my pen-work this morning by an alarm (which proved to be a false one) of an attack of cavalry on our rear; it turned us all out, and kept me in the saddle till now, 5 p. m., so I can only say I am safe and unhurt. I trust in three days Delhi will be ours. I fancy my share in the assault will be one of duty rather than of danger. The cavalry have but small work on these occasions. I cannot yet tell what will occur after the capture. I fancy a column under Nicholson will be pushed on to Agra or Cawnpore, and I hope my regiment will be of the party.

September 13th.—I find I am to accompany Nicholson's column at his own request, but where we are to go is unknown; whether in pursuit of the rebels who are fast evacuating Delhi, or towards Agra, we know not; Nicholson strongly urges the former. I am very glad for my own sake that I am to go on, for this place is dreadfully unhealthy, and I feel that I shall certainly be ill if I remain here much longer. In fact, I had made up my mind not to remain if possible, and when Nicholson urged my going on with him I was only too ready to second the motion, for I am able to work and to fight, and I must do so as long as I can. Some of the Gwalior troops have crossed the Chumbul River, and are supposed to be threatening Agra. However, the fall of Delhi will make every difference in their proceedings, and show them that we can do something, though so late; we are looking forward to a little "active service" to-morrow; may God grant success to our arms, and safety to our brave band as much as may be.

September 15th.—I was totally unable to leave the field yesterday until dark, and long after post-time, but I ascertained that a telegraphic message was sent to Simla. I sent one up as soon as possible, for transmission to you through Lord W. Hay, but Colonel Becher had forestalled me.... The breaches made by our artillery were successfully stormed early in the morning, with but little loss then; our loss, subsequently, however, I grieve to say, was most distressing, and that, in attempting unsuccessfully the capture of the Puhareepore and Kishengunge suburbs. The whole extent of our loss is not yet known, but that already ascertained is grievous to a degree. First, poor Nicholson most dangerously wounded, at a time, too, when his services were beyond expression valuable.[45] The 1st European Bengal Fusileers was the most tried, and suffered out of all proportion, save in the especial case of the Engineers, of whom ten, out of the seventeen engaged, have been killed or wounded. Chesney and Hovenden among the latter, though not badly. Of the Fusileers, poor Jacob was mortally wounded, since dead, I grieve to say; Greville, badly; Owen, severely; Wemyss and Lambert, slightly; Butler, knocked down and stunned; F. Brown and Warner, both grazed. Of officers attached to the regiment, Captain Mac Barnett was killed; Stafford, wounded; Speke, mortally so; what a frightful list! Besides this, Captain Boisragon was wounded badly, with the Kumaon battalion; so that, of the officers of the 1st Fusileers engaged yesterday, only Wriford, Wallace, and myself, escaped untouched. My preservation (I do not like the word escape) was miraculous. For more than two hours we had to sit on our horses under the heaviest fire troops are often exposed to, and that, too, without the chance of doing anything but preventing the enemy coming on. Brigadier Hope Grant commanded, and while I doubt his judgment in taking cavalry into such a position, I admit that it was impossible for any man to take troops under a hotter fire, keep them there more steadily, or exhibit a more cool and determined bravery than he did. My young regiment behaved admirably, as did all hands. The loss of the party was of course very severe. Of Tombs's troop alone, twenty-five men (out of fifty) and seventeen horses were hit. The brigadier and four officers composing his staff all had their horses killed, and two of the five were wounded. The brigadier himself was hit by a spent shot; Tombs escaped, I am delighted to say, from a similar spent ball. Our success on the whole was hardly what it should have been, considering the sacrifice, but the great end of getting into Delhi was attained. About one third of the city is in our power, and the remainder will shortly follow, but that third has cost us between 600 and 700 killed and wounded.[46] I am most humbly and heartily grateful to a merciful Providence that I was spared. May the God of battles continue His gracious protection to the end, and enable me once more to be reunited to all most precious to me on earth.

"Delhi.

"On the night of the 13th September, final preparations were made for the assault on the city. Brigadiers and commanding officers (our little army boasts of no generals of divisions) were summoned to the General's tent, and then received their instructions. At 1 o'clock a. m. on the 14th, the men all turned out silently, no bugles or trumpets sounding, and moved down in silence to the trenches. The batteries all this time kept up an unceasing fire on the city, which responded to it as usual. On arriving at the trenches the troops lay down, awaiting the signal, which was to be given at daybreak, and which was to be the blowing in of the Cashmere Gate, towards which a party of Engineers and Sappers moved off at about 3 a. m. The assault was to be made in three columns: the first was to blow open the Cashmere Gate, the second to escalade the Water Bastion, and the third to escalade the Moree Bastion, both of which had been pronounced practicable. As I was with the cavalry all the time, I saw nothing of the storming, but it is sufficient to say it succeeded on every point, and by 8 a. m. we were inside the walls, and held all their outworks.

"Now began the difficulty, as from the small force we had, it was very hard work to drive a large body of men out of such a city as Delhi. It took four days to accomplish, but at length, on the morning of the 20th, the flag of Old England floated gracefully out over the palace of the Great Mogul. And now for what we (the cavalry) did. At 3 a. m.[47] we moved down in column of squadrons to the rear of our batteries, and waited there till about 5 a. m., when the enemy advanced from the Lahore Gate with two troops of artillery, no end of cavalry, and a lot of infantry, apparently to our front. I think they intended to try and take our old position now that we had got theirs. In an instant horse artillery and cavalry were ordered to the front, and we went there at the gallop, bang through our own batteries, the gunners cheering us as we leapt over the sand-bags, &c., and halted under the Moree Bastion, under as heavy a fire of round shot, grape, and canister, as I have ever been under in my life. Our artillery dashed to the front, unlimbered, and opened upon the enemy, and at it they both went 'hammer and tongs.' Now you must understand we had no infantry with us. All the infantry were fighting in the city. They sent out large bodies of infantry and cavalry against us, and then began the fire of musketry. It was tremendous. There we were (9th Lancers, 1st, 2d, 4th Sikhs, Guide Cavalry, and Hodson's Horse) protecting the Artillery, who were threatened by their infantry and cavalry. And fancy what a pleasant position we were in, under this infernal fire, and never returning a shot. Our artillery blazed away, of course, but we had to sit in our saddles and be knocked over. However, I am happy to say we saved the guns. The front we kept was so steady as to keep them back until some of the Guide infantry came down and went at them. I have been in a good many fights now, but always under such a heavy fire as this with my own regiment, and then there is always excitement, cheering on your men, who are replying to the enemy's fire; but here we were in front of a lot of gardens perfectly impracticable for cavalry, under a fire of musketry which I have seldom seen equalled, the enemy quite concealed, and here we had to sit for three hours. Had we retired, they would at once have taken our guns. Had the guns retired with us, we should have lost the position. No infantry could be spared to assist us, so we had to sit there. Men and horses were knocked over every minute. We suffered terribly. With my usual good luck I was never touched. Well, all things must have an end. Some infantry came down and cleared the gardens in our front, and as their cavalry never showed, and we had no opportunity of charging, we fell back, and (the fire being over in that quarter) halted and dismounted.[48] All this time hard fighting was going on in the city. The next day, and up to the morning of the 19th, we did nothing (I am now speaking exclusively of the cavalry brigade) but form in line on the top of the ridge, ready to pursue the enemy should they turn out of the city in force."[49]

September 16th.—I have just returned from a very long and terribly hot ride of some hours to ascertain the movements, position, and line of retreat of the enemy, and I can do no more than report my safety. I grieve much for poor Major Jacob, we buried him and three sergeants of the regiment last night; he was a noble soldier. His death has made me a captain, the long wished-for goal; but I would rather have served on as a subaltern than gained promotion thus. Greville and Owen are doing well, but I much fear there is no hope for poor Nicholson; his is a cruel wound, and his loss would be a material calamity. You may count our real officers on your fingers now—men, I mean, really worthy the name. General Wilson is fairly broken down by fatigue and anxiety, he cannot stand on his legs to-day; fortunately, Chamberlain is well enough to go down and keep him straight; and Colonel Seaton also,—two good men, if he will be led by them. All is going on well; the magazine was carried by storm this morning, with nominal loss, and our guns are knocking the fort and palace about. All the suburbs have been evacuated or taken. I have just ridden through them, and all the enemy's heavy guns have been brought into camp. In forty-eight hours the whole city, I think, with its seven miles of enceinte, will be ours; our loss has been very heavy: 46 officers killed and wounded, 200 men killed, and 700 or 800 wounded.

September 17th.—All is going on well, though slowly; the Sepoys still occupy a portion of the city, and are being gradually driven backwards, while the palace and fort are continually played upon by shell and shot; not above 3,000 or 4,000 of the rebel troops remain in the city. Head-quarters are there, and I am going down immediately to take up my quarters with the staff. I expect to-morrow will see the last of it, but there is no calculating with anything like certainty on the proceedings of these unreasoning wretches. I am thankful to say Nicholson is a little better to-day, and there appears some hope of his recovery, though a very slight one. Mr. Colvin is dead: another celebrity taken away in this time of trial. The home mail of the 10th of August has arrived, but brought no letters for me as yet, but very few have arrived in all. The Government at home seem at last awaking to a sense of the importance of this crisis in Indian affairs.

September 18th.—There is nothing worth speaking of doing here. We are still shelling the fort and palace, but as slowly, alas, as possible. I am writing in great haste, in order to go down and see my "intelligence" people. Some of the enemy are trying negotiation. I only hope they may find it is too late, and that we may pursue and destroy the wretches whom we have to thank for so much barbarity and bloodshed.

September 19th.—We are making slow progress in the city. The fact is, the troops are utterly demoralized by hard work and hard drink, I grieve to say. For the first time in my life I have had to see English soldiers refuse repeatedly to follow their officers. Greville, Jacob, Nicholson, and Speke were all sacrificed to this. We were out with all the cavalry this morning on a reconnaissance, or rather demonstration, for some miles, and got a wetting for our pains; however, rain at this season is too grateful to be complained of.

September 20th.—I have been much shocked (even familiar as I have become with death) by poor Greathed's[50] sudden death yesterday from cholera; the strongest and healthiest man in camp snatched away after a few hours' illness. Sir T. Metcalfe also is very ill with the same cruel disease; what a harvest of death there has been during the past four months, as if war was not sufficiently full of horrors. The rebels have fled from the city in thousands, and it is all but empty; only the palace is still occupied, and that we hope to get hold of immediately, and so this horribly protracted siege will be at an end at last, thank God. None but those who fought through the first six weeks of the campaign know on what a thread our lives and the safety of the Empire hung, or can appreciate the sufferings and exertions of those days of watchfulness and combat, of fearful heat and exhaustion, of trial and danger. I look back on them with a feeling of almost doubt whether they were real or only a foul dream. This day will be a memorable one in the annals of the Empire; the restoration of British rule in the East dates from the 20th September, 1857.

In the Royal Palace Delhi, September 22d.— I was quite unable to write yesterday, having had a hard day's work. I was fortunate enough to capture the King and his favorite wife. To-day, more fortunate still, I have seized and destroyed the King's two sons and a grandson (the famous, or rather infamous, Abu Bukr), the villains who ordered the massacre of our women and children, and stood by and witnessed the foul barbarity; their bodies are now lying on the spot where those of the unfortunate ladies were exposed. I am very tired, but very much satisfied with my day's work, and so seem all hands. We were to have accompanied the movable column, but to-day it is counter-ordered, and we remain here.[51]

September 23d.—When shall I have time to write really a letter? It seems as if I were each day doomed to fresh labor and worry, and I long to shake off the whole coil, and go where I can find repose and peace. Fortunately, my health stands the wear and tear, and as my success has been great I must not grumble.... I came to camp this morning to see after the march of a detachment of my regiment which is ordered, after half a dozen changes, to accompany a movable column which is ordered to proceed towards Agra to-morrow. I am to remain here, and to tell the truth, the business is so mismanaged that I have ceased to care whether I go or stay. I fancy they find me too useful here. We move down bodily to or near the town to-morrow, and everything is in confusion and bustle.

September 24th.—Brigadier Grant, like dear Sir Henry Lawrence, (though both married men themselves,) says that soldiers have no business to marry; under the idea that anxiety for their wives' welfare and safety often induces men to hesitate to run risks which they would otherwise cheerfully undergo. I, on a less selfish principle, question very much whether men have any right to expose their wives to such misery and anxiety as during the last few months have fallen to the lot of so many; and yet it seems hard to say that soldiers, who have so much to endure at times for the sake of others and of their common country, should be denied the happiness of married life, because times of danger will sometimes occur, and certain I am that the love of a noble-hearted woman nerves one's arm to daring and to honor. Happy, however, is the woman whose husband is not a soldier.... Really the rumors which travel about are too ludicrous, though hardly more so than those which take rise and are actually believed in camp.

The true account of the cavalry "demonstration" is this: on the morning on which the city and palace were finally evacuated (19th), the whole of the available cavalry (not otherwise employed) moved out through the suburbs in the direction of, though not on the road to, the Kootub, but with strict orders not to go under fire! Well, we all marched out to the top of the hill on which stands the "Eedgah," and thence, from a safe and respectful distance, overlooked the camp of the Bareilly and Nusseerabad force, under "General" Bukt Khan, quondam Subadar of artillery. While minutely examining the camp through my glass (I was with Brigadier Hope Grant, to show the way), I perceived, by unmistakable signs, that it was being evacuated. Shortly after a loud explosion showed that they were blowing up their ammunition previous to a flight; these signs were on the moment confirmed by the arrival of my "Hurkaras" (messengers), and I immediately got leave to go and tell the General. I did so, galloping down along the front of the city to see if that was quite clear. I then asked leave to go down through the camp, and see what was really the state of the case; and Macdowell and I started with seventy-five men, and rode at a gallop right round the city to the Delhi gate, clearing the roads of plunderers and suspicious-looking objects as we went. We found the camp as I had been told, empty, and the Delhi gate open; we were there at 11 a. m. at latest, and it was not until 2 p. m. that the order was given for the cavalry to move out, and they were so long about it, that when at sunset Macdowell and I were returning, (bringing away three guns left by the enemy, and having made arrangements and collected camels for bringing in the empty tents, &c.,) we met the advance-guard coming slowly forward in grand array! We had been on to the jail and old fort, two or three miles beyond Delhi, and executed many a straggler. I brought in the mess plate of the 60th Native Infantry, their standards, drums, and other things. Macdowell and I had been for five hours inside the Delhi gate, hunting about, before a guard was sent to take charge of it.

The next day I got permission, after much argument and entreaty, to go and bring in the King, for which (though negotiations for his life had been entertained) no provision had been made and no steps taken, and his favorite wife also, and the young imp (her son) whom he had destined to succeed him on the throne. This was successfully accomplished, at the expense of vast fatigue and no trifling risk.[52] I then set to work to get hold of the villain princes. It was with the greatest difficulty that the General was persuaded to allow them to be interfered with, till even poor Nicholson roused himself to urge that the pursuit should be attempted. The General at length yielded a reluctant consent, adding "but don't let me be bothered with them." I assured him it was nothing but his own order which "bothered" him with the King, as I would much rather have brought him into Delhi dead than living. Glad to have at length obtained even this consent, I prepared for my dangerous expedition. Macdowell accompanied me, and taking one hundred picked men, I started early for the tomb of the Emperor Humayoon, where the villains had taken sanctuary. I laid my plans so as to cut off access to the tomb or escape from it, and then sent in one of the inferior scions of the royal family (purchased for the purpose by the promise of his life) and my one-eyed Moulvie Rujub Alee, to say that I had come to seize the Shahzadahs for punishment, and intended to do so, dead or alive. After two hours of wordy strife and very anxious suspense, they appeared, and asked if their lives had been promised by the Government, to which I answered "most certainly not," and sent them away from the tomb towards the city, under a guard. I then went with the rest of the sowars to the tomb, and found it crowded with, I should think, some 6,000 or 7,000 of the servants, hangers-on, and scum of the palace and city, taking refuge in the cloisters which lined the walls of the tomb. I saw at a glance that there was nothing for it but determination and a bold front, so I demanded in a voice of authority the instant surrender of their arms, &c. They immediately obeyed, with an alacrity I scarcely dared to hope for, and in less than two hours they brought forth from innumerable hiding-places some 500 swords, and more than that number of fire-arms, besides horses, bullocks, and covered carts called "Ruths," used by the women and eunuchs of the palace. I then arranged the arms and animals in the centre, and left an armed guard with them, while I went to look after my prisoners, who, with their guard, had moved on towards Delhi. I came up just in time, as a large mob had collected, and were turning on the guard. I rode in among them at a gallop, and in a few words I appealed to the crowd, saying that these were the butchers who had murdered and brutally used helpless women and children, and that the Government had now sent their punishment: seizing a carabine from one of my men, I deliberately shot them one after another. I then ordered the bodies to be taken into the city, and thrown out on the "Chiboutra," in front of the Kotwalie,[53] where the blood of their innocent victims still could be distinctly traced. The bodies remained before the Kotwalie until this morning, when, for sanitary reasons, they were removed. In twenty-four hours, therefore, I disposed of the principal members of the house of Timur the Tartar. I am not cruel, but I confess I did rejoice at the opportunity of ridding the earth of these wretches. I intended to have had them hung, but when it came to a question of "they" or "us," I had no time for deliberation.

September 24th.—The picture drawn from the usually mendacious reports at Simla, is not even founded on fact. The women of the palace had all escaped before the troops entered.

The troops have behaved with singular moderation towards women and children, considering their provocation. I do not believe, and I have some means of knowing, that a single woman or child has been purposely injured by our troops, and the story on which your righteous indignation is grounded is quite false; the troops have been demoralized by drink, but nothing more.

September 25th.—... I miss Colonel Seaton terribly, we have lived in the same tent for months, and had become brothers in affection as well as in arms. I mourn deeply for poor Nicholson; with the single exceptions of my ever-revered Sir Henry Lawrence, and Colonel Mackeson, I have never seen his equal in field or council; he was preËminently our "best and bravest," and his loss is not to be atoned for in these days. I cannot help being pleased with the warm congratulations I receive on all sides for my success in destroying the enemies of our race; the whole nation will rejoice, but I am pretty sure that however glad —— will be at their destruction, he will take exception to my having been the instrument, in God's hands, of their punishment. That will not signify, however; I am too conscious of the rectitude of my own motives to care what the few may say while my own conscience and the voice of the many pronounce me right.