Camp, Alumbagh, near Lucknow,
February 24th.

We arrived here last night at dusk, after a terribly dusty march of thirty-six miles. To-day we had a bit of a fight. The Pandies, ignorant of the reinforcements which had arrived, had as usual come round one flank of the camp, so we moved out and caught them as they were trying to get back again, and took two of their guns. By "we," I mean my own men and the Military Train men from home. Young Gough, my adjutant, was wounded, and had his horse shot. I was luckily in the way, or it would have gone worse with him;[69] my own horse too (pretty "Child of the Desert") was wounded, and I was obliged to mount a sowar's horse. Gough will be laid up for a month, I fear; it is a flesh wound in the thigh. I do not think Master Pandy will try the same trick again. We have been out so long that there is time for no more to-day than this assurance of my safety.

Alumbagh, February 25th.—I have been calling on Sir James Outram this morning, and had a most pleasant interview; the brave old warrior greeted me most cordially, professing his satisfaction at having at last met one of whom he had heard so much, &c. &c. The pleasure was certainly mutual, for I have long wished to meet him. He made many inquiries about you also, and asked whether you had not been in the hills during the panic, and helped the refugees, &c. How proudly I could answer all his praise in the affirmative. He also asked my opinion of Lord William's administration, and I was glad of the opportunity to testify in his favor. Altogether this good old soldier's compliments were pleasing to me, particularly as he was not one of those who in my time of trouble passed me by on the other side.

The enemy is quite quiet to-day. I fancy we were too much for his philosophy yesterday. Fancy the Queen Regnant coming out on an elephant to meet us, to encourage her wavering followers! I wish the Chief would make haste and finish this business, it is getting cruelly hot already.

27th.—All quiet still with the enemy. A packet of letters has arrived, and brought me all the comfort I am capable of receiving in this torturing absence; would it were over! I hear the Chief has crossed the Ganges and is coming on here. I believe we had some ??d?? for the affair of the 25th, though beyond being exposed to a very galling fire, I did not think much of it myself. Gough's wound is a serious misfortune to me just now; a gallant, go-a-head boy like him is not to be easily replaced, any more than poor Mac is. I myself am laid up with a sore leg; I would not nurse it at first, and now it is so painful I cannot mount my horse or even stand without pain, so I shall go into the next scrimmage on an elephant! Dr. Brougham, however, says it will be well in four or five days. I did not know Greville was going home so soon, I hoped to have shaken him by the sain hand once more before we parted for so long.

Alumbagh, 1st March.—Nothing of public importance is occurring. I am still unable to ride, so I do regimental work. I dined with Sir J. Outram (he is the General commanding here) and with Colonel Haggart, 7th Hussars, last night; the former is quite affectionate in his manner to me. He would quite charm you, and were I not out of love with vanity, would spoil me; but I confess the respectful homage of the soldiers is pleasanter to my spirit than the praise of great men. I study to be quiet and do my own business without elation and pride, satisfied with the testimony of my own conscience that I strive to do my duty.

March 2d.—The Commander-in-Chief arrived with a large part of the force this morning, marched straight through our camp, and at the enemy (who of course ran away), and occupied the Dilkoosha, a large garden-house and park near the city. My unfortunate leg prevented my sharing in the fray, I grieve to say, and I am actually in a fright lest he (the Chief) should take Lucknow before I am able to ride!

Alumbagh, March 6th.—I had time for but the merest line yesterday, written from Dilkoosha, where the Commander-in-Chief is encamped, and whither we were erroneously brought yesterday to return here to-day. I had a long talk with Sir Colin, who was even more than commonly kind and cordial. I am not very well, I am sorry to say; this leg troubles me, and is the effect of the erysipelas which attacked my arm in consequence of the wounds closing too quickly. The truth is that I lost about a pound and a half of blood when I was wounded, and having had two slight bouts of fever since, I am not so strong as I would be; however, I am getting on, and am dosed with steel, quinine, and port wine ad lib. My arm is pretty well, but the wound opened again partially after the 25th, and I have been obliged to submit to bandages, &c.; still I hope three or four days will set me all right again, though I fear the arm will never be quite straight again, or the thumb quite flexible. I shall have to go home for rest to my body, if not for comfort to my heart. I have seen Osborn Wilkinson; he is as nice as possible, and he is now Deputy Assistant Quartermaster-General to the Cavalry Brigade, to which my Horse is attached, so I hope to see more of him than of late. I breakfasted yesterday at head-quarters with Napier, and grieved to see that he looked worn and troubled. I fear his health is very precarious.

Camp, near Lucknow, March 6th.—... I grieve that you should be anxious on my account; the same merciful Providence which has so wonderfully preserved us both through so many and great dangers, will, I earnestly pray, continue the same gracious guardianship; yet I strive to be prepared for all....

I had to march again this morning; a message from Sir Colin last night to the Brigadier having directed him to put me in charge of the line of communications with Jellalabad, the Alumbagh, and his camp. So I had to bring my men up here, half-way between the two camps, and to make arrangements for insuring the safety of the roads, and protecting the convoys on which the existence of the army depends. The worst part of it is I cannot ride, and have had, for the first time in my life, to do outpost duty in a dog-cart! driving across country to post videttes and picquettes, &c. What with this continued movement and the rest which I am compelled to take recumbent, I have had no time for writing as I fain would do. I have heard from Reginald; he is so earnest in his wish to do duty with my regiment, that I have asked for him. May God preserve the dear boy from all evil! I shall never forgive myself if harm comes to him. There is no decided move at present; the net is gradually closing round the enemy, some of the Goorkhas and Brigadier Frank's column having already arrived. You must not expect more than a Majority for me yet, though I have good reason to believe that more will come.

March 8th.—I went up myself to-day to the head-quarters' camp, to look for letters and see our friend, but failed in both; but I breakfasted and had a long chat with that pleasantest of persons, Lugard, now Sir Edward, and while there I had a letter from Norman to say that Reginald had been appointed to do duty with my Horse. I can but think he is too young; but if he must see hard service so early, better with me than elsewhere. God grant it may be for his good. I am looking for the end with an eager longing for rest which I cannot control. Dear Sir Henry used to say I was ambitious, and I know I was proud and thirsty of success; but now all desires for the future settle down into the one thought of home.

March 9th.—I grieve that report should cause you fear and anxiety whenever there has been a fight, particularly as the chances are against my being in it. You should remember that our force extends now round three sides nearly of Lucknow. The extreme right of our position, or rather camps, being at least nine miles from the left; so that engagements occur at one part which those at the other never perhaps hear of till next day! This was the case with the Dilkoosha affair. The Chief passed our camp on the left, moved on some miles, and occupied "Dilkoosha" (a fine palace, three stories high), and the ground up to the banks of the Goomtee, almost without opposition. I was never within miles of him. Indeed, I have not been on horseback since the 25th, as I am forced to save myself for emergencies. If anything important occurs, be sure I will send a telegram somehow. I have written to Reginald, and sent him a copy of the General Order appointing him to do duty with my regiment. I have also got a Lieutenant Meecham, of the Madras army,—a great artist and good-looking fellow, and, what is much more to my purpose, a fine soldier I believe. I have also asked for young Blackburne, whom you may remember in the 20th Native Infantry at Peshawur,—a friend of Edward Loyd's. He is much "come out" since then. I do hope Hugh Gough will soon be well; I do ill without such a dashing fine fellow.

In the affair of the 25th we were leading, and took the guns,—i.e., we fairly captured one, and drove the enemy away from the other, and kept them at bay until the "train" came up and secured it. I was not altogether satisfied with my men in this part of the affair. They hesitated, and let me go ahead unsupported except by Nihal Singh; old Mahommed Reza Khan, and one or two others, with Gough, being near. The consequence was that the enemy concentrated their fire on our little party. However, the Europeans of the Military Train hesitated to do what I wanted my men to do, and they behaved very well immediately afterwards. There has been a great fuss about the matter; Sir Colin having taken great and very just offence at its being reported to him that the cavalry were "led" by Colonel ——, a staff-officer.... He got wounded, and then was officially reported to have "led the cavalry," whereas we had Brigadier Campbell (a capital officer), and Colonel Haggart, of the 7th Hussars, present, besides the officers commanding regiments, "quorum pars fui." Sir Colin denounced Colonel ——'s "leading" as "an insufferable impertinence," called me up, and asked me before them all, "Were you present with your regiment on the 25th?" and on my saying, "Yes," he cried out, "Now, look here; look at my friend Hodson here, does he look like a man that needs 'leading?' Is that a man likely to want 'leading?' I should like to see the fellow who'd presume to talk of 'leading' that man!" pointing to me, and so forth. I nearly went into convulsions; it was such a scene....

The MartiniÈre was taken to-day without loss except poor Captain Peel, who, I grieve to say, is wounded.

March 10th.—The mail is come with my Majority. The brevet has given general dissatisfaction. Some of the double honors are marvellous; but it should be remembered that these promotions are given sponte su by the home authorities, no recommendations having gone from hence till lately. I am content myself, having no interest. It proves they perceive I have done something, or I should not have this beginning; and it is satisfactory to find that it is universally considered that I have been shabbily used. Better this by far than to have people lifting up their eyes and saying I had got too much! Inglis is justly rewarded, and some others. I dare say more will come with time. I hope devoutly that when Lucknow falls I shall be released. We shall know in a few days,—for even while I write Lucknow seems to be "falling" fast. Immense progress was made yesterday, with not more loss than some 18 or 20 wounded, and I hear to-day they are going ahead again. Pandy has quite given up fighting, except pot-shots under cover, and runs at the very sight of troops advancing. I stood on the top of the Dilkoosha palace yesterday, and watched the capture of as strong a position as men could wish for (which at Delhi would have cost us hundreds) without the enemy making a single struggle or firing a shot. At this rate Lucknow will soon be in our hands. We (of the cavalry) are kept on the qui vive watching the southern outlets from the town to prevent escape, and I expect to see Lucknow taken without being under fire again. Well, it must be confessed that I have had my share of the dangers of the war, and whether I receive honors or not, I have the testimony of my own conscience that I have done one man's work towards the restoration of our power in India.... I have been occupied to-day in trying to get the Victoria Cross for the two Goughs. Hugh certainly ought to have it.[70]

March 11th.—Just as I sit down to write comes an order to move our camp towards Alumbagh again; Jung Bahadoor having at last arrived with his army and taken up ground between me and the enemy.... If anything occurs, I will get Colonel Napier or Norman to send you a service telegram....

"We struck our tents and were saddled, waiting for him till it became so dark that we were forced to go without him, and reached our ground after sunset. I had gone to the post-office and was five minutes behind the regiment. When I came up, I found that Hodson's orderly had come in great haste, saying that his master had sent for me, but with no other message. He said that his master had been hit when advancing with the troops on the Begum's Kotee on foot.

"I mounted and rode off with him at once. From the darkness of the night and the difficulty of passing the Goorkah sentries, I did not get to Dilkooshah till 9 p. m. There no one knew where he was. I then went on to the artillery mess and learnt that he was in Banks's House which I reached about 10 p. m. I found him in a dooly and Dr. Sutherland with him, whom I at once relieved, and learnt the following particulars from him and from the orderly who remained with Hodson, and who had been by his side when hit. He had arrived at Banks's House just as the party going to attack the Begum's Palace were starting, and fell in with them. The place had been taken before he was wounded. When the soldiers were searching for concealed Sepoys in the court-yard and buildings adjoining, he said to his orderly, 'I wonder if any of the rascals are in there.' He turned the angle of the passage; looked into a dark room, which was full of Sepoys; a shot was fired from inside. He staggered back some paces and then fell. A party of Highlanders, hearing who had been hit, rushed into the room and bayoneted every man there.

"The orderly, a large powerful Sikh, carried him in his arms out of danger, and got a dooly and brought him back to Banks's House, where his wound was looked to and dressed.

"He was shot through the right side of the chest, in the region of the liver, the ball entering in front and going out behind. There had been profuse bleeding, and I saw that the wound was most likely mortal.

"He was very glad to see me, and began talking of his wound, which he thought himself was mortal. I lay beside him on the ground all night, holding his hand, on account of the great pain he suffered. He was very weak when I arrived, but by means of stimulants rallied wonderfully, and slept for an hour or two during the night. At daylight he was much better, his hands were warm and his pulse good, and I had hopes that, if the bleeding, which had ceased, did not return, he might recover. He drank two cups of tea, and said he felt very well. His account of his being wounded agreed with the orderly's.

"About 9 a. m. I had the dooly lifted into a room, which I had had cleared out, where he was much quieter. At 10 a. m., however, bleeding came on again profusely, and he rapidly became worse. I told him that recovery was impossible. He then sent for General Napier, to whom he gave directions about his property and messages to his wife. After this he rapidly sank, though he remained sensible and was able to speak till a quarter past one, when he became too weak; and at twenty-five minutes past one died.

"His orderly[72] actually cried over him, he was so attached to him.

"He was buried that evening by the Rev. Dr. Smith. The Commander-in-Chief and his staff were present."

"I regret bitterly now, that I did not insist on your dear husband going back, but you know how impossible it was to check his dauntless spirit."

... "He lay on his bed of mortal agony and met death with the same calm composure which so much distinguished him on the field of battle. He was quite conscious and peaceful, occasionally uttering a sentence:—

"'My poor wife,' 'My poor sisters.'

"'I should have liked to see the end of the campaign and gone home to the dear ones once more, but it was so ordered.'

"'It is hard to leave the world just now, when success is so near, but God's will be done.'

"'Bear witness for me that I have tried to do my duty to man. May God forgive my sins for Christ's sake.' 'I go to my Father.'

"'My love to my wife; tell her my last thoughts were of her.' 'Lord, receive my soul.'

"These were his last words, and, without a sigh or struggle, his pure and noble spirit took its flight."

"MartiniÈre, March 13, 1858.

"Madam,—It is with a sentiment of profound regret that I am compelled to address you for the purpose of communicating the sad news that your gallant and distinguished husband, Major Hodson, received a mortal wound from a bullet on the 11th instant. He unfortunately accompanied his friend Brigadier Napier, commanding Engineers in the successful attack on the Begum's Palace. The whole army, which admired his talents, his bravery, and his military skill, deplores his loss, and sympathizes with you in your irreparable bereavement. I attended your husband's funeral yesterday evening, in order to show what respect I could to the memory of one of the most brilliant officers under my command.

(Signed) "C. Campbell,
"Com.-in-Chief in East Indies."

"When the part of the service came where the body is lowered into the grave, all the old warrior's courage and self-possession could no longer control the tears,—undeniable evidence of what he felt. 'I have lost one of the finest officers in the army,' was his remark to General Napier."

"One of the ablest, most active, and bravest soldiers who have fallen in the present war."

"I look round and can find no one like him. Many men are as brave, many possess as much talent, many are as cool and accurate in judgment, but not one combines all these qualifications as he did."

"At this point fell, mortally wounded, Hodson of the 1st Bengal Fusileers; Hodson of Hodson's Horse; Hodson, the captor of the King of Delhi and the princes of his house. Few of the many losses that have occurred during the operations consequent upon the mutinies, have caused such universal regret throughout India as the death of this excellent officer; and among those in England who have read of and admired his exploits, not only his comrades of the Sikh battle-fields, but many an old friend at Rugby or at Trinity will mourn that his career has been thus early closed."

"The country will receive with lively regret the news that the gallant Major Hodson, who has given his name to an invincible and almost ubiquitous body of cavalry, was killed in the attack on Lucknow. Major Hodson has been from the very beginning of this war fighting everywhere and against any odds with all the spirit of a Paladin of old. His most remarkable exploit, the capture of the King of Delhi and his two sons, astonished the world by its courage and coolness. Hodson was, indeed, a man who, from his romantic daring and his knowledge of the Asiatic character, was able to beat the natives at their own weapons. We could better have spared an older and more highly placed officer."

"From a Lucknow letter which we publish to-day our readers will learn, with sorrow and regret, that that most able and gallant officer, Captain Hodson, who has distinguished himself on so many occasions since the breaking out of the rebellion, and whose services have been of so brilliant and valuable a character, has been killed at Lucknow. As a leader of Irregular Horse, or indeed as a soldier of any of the non-scientific forces, Captain Hodson was almost without an equal. He was one of those squadron leaders which the Indian army can alone rear up. There are few men who would have managed the capture of the ex-King of Delhi as this departed hero did. On that occasion his force was small compared to that he had to cope with; but the determined daring of the man made up for the disparity, and the old King came out of his fortification—for a strong fortification it was—and surrendered. So also with the capture of the King's sons, who also surrendered themselves, but whom Hodson found rescued when he reached them, after having completed the disarming of their band. That was a moment to test a man. But he of whom we write was equal to the emergency. The carts in which the princes were, were retaken immediately. Still the aspect of the armed Mahomedan crowd around—growing every moment more numerous—was dark and threatening. It was a situation which required prompt decision, and promptly did the British leader decide. He saw that it was necessary that his prisoners should die, and resolved himself to become their executioner: a wise resolve, for, probably, had he asked one of his own Mahomedan troopers to kill the sons of the Mogul, a refusal would have followed, and that refusal might have been acted up to by all. He adopted the wiser course, harangued his men, ordered the prisoners to take off their robes in the cart, and shot them with his own hand. Had the prisoners been allowed to leave the cart, their bodies would have been left behind; for to touch them would, by the troopers, have been considered defilement, and, left behind, they might have been fanatically paraded through the country as an incitement to a fresh rising. Besides, it was necessary that their remains should be exposed at the Kotwallie in Delhi with something of the indignity they themselves had caused to be inflicted on the murdered victims of the 11th of May."

"Hodson, splendid fellow, died the following day, most deeply regretted by all ranks in his regiment. He indeed was a brave soldier, a clever and truly esteemed commander. May we not say he was one of the flowers of the 'old Europeans,' and an ornament to the Bengal army?"

"Then fell one of the bravest in the Indian army, an officer whose name has been brought too often before the public by those in high command to need my humble word in praise. There was not a man before Delhi who did not know Hodson; always active, always cheery, it did one's heart good to look at his face, when all felt how critical was our position. Ask any soldier who was the bravest man before Delhi, who most in the saddle, who foremost? and nine out of ten in the Infantry will tell you Hodson, in the Artillery as many will name Tombs.

"I once heard one of the Fusileers say, 'Whenever I sees Captain Hodson go out, I always prays for him, for he is sure to be in danger.' Yet it was not only in the field that Hodson was to be valued, his head was as active as his hand was strong, and I feel sure, when we who knew him heard of his death, not one but felt that there was a vacancy indeed in our ranks."

"When I returned to head-quarters' camp this evening, I found that poor Hodson had died the previous day, and been buried the same evening.

"He was a zealous and accomplished officer, of great bravery, ability, and determination, an excellent judge of the native character, of a humane and clement disposition, but firm in the infliction of deserved punishment.

"The last time I saw him alive he expressed a decided opinion that Government must resort to an amnesty, or be prepared for a long continuance of disturbances."