In the mean time the heavy guns on our side were not idle; pretty constantly night and day their voices were heard, and the frequent and increasing sound of the artillery from Sir Colin's direction, showed that great progress was being made under the Chief, and that Lucknow must soon be ours. Still much remained to be done, and it was difficult to see the enemy-the fighting seemed on the south-east side to be a constant succession of combats. In one of these, Captain Hodson, 1st Fusiliers,

better known as the leader of "Hodson's Horse," who for his gallantry at Delhi had just received his brevet majority, was killed. He had ridden to the front, and having entered a house to see what was going on, went to the window, where he instantly received a ball in his side. 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 Fusiliers 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 indeed a vacancy in our ranks.

On the 14th the increased thunder of our heavy guns told us the Chief was near the Imaumbara, and numerous explosions testified to the searching nature of our fire. In the afternoon we heard that not only the Imaumbara, but also the Khyzarbagh, had fallen. Throughout all that night the fire from our mortars seemed, if possible, to increase, and then-all was quiet. On the morn

VOL. LXXXIV.-NO. DXIII.

ing of the 15th, the ear, accustomed to the constant reverberation of artillery, seemed absolutely to want the stimulus, and to be watching for the familiar sound. What the stillness meant we could only guess. Some said Sir Colin had "captivated" the Begum, others that the Sepoys were upon their marrow-bones, with halters round their necks, like the desponding burghers who in times past came out of Calais to pacify the English Edward. At last, the guns and cavalry moving on the road past our post, we learned that the greater part of the rebel force had retreated from the city about 3 A.M.; that the cavalry now passing were to overtake them if possible, and we also to form part of the pursuing column, to be pushed on as far as Seetapore, about fifty miles distant. Neither officers nor men had been unaccoutred for five days and nights; the prospect, therefore, of a fifty-mile march was most refreshing; and on being relieved at about 8 P.M., we marched to camp to make arrangements to start at 2 A.M. Just as we arrived, however, all orders were cancelled. We turned into bed, therefore, being sure of a good night's sleep; but at twelve that night we were warned to be ready for duty at 6 A.M., as there was still a little work to be done in the city. The quiet of the day previous no longer existed; and though the regular pounding of the first five days after our arrival no longer went on, yet the reports of guns, mingled with musketry, were sufficiently frequent to let us know that Lucknow was still in some measure occupied by the enemy. We moved up the river about 7 A.M., and found that a floating bridge had been constructed by our Engineers about three hundred yards above the yellow house: over this passed the 5th Brigade (1st Fusiliers, 23d Fusiliers, and 79th Highlanders), now for the first time fairly in Lucknow. Moving on, we shortly passed the Secundrabagh, where Sir Colin, on his way to the relief of the Residency, killed no less than 1800 of the enemy. We thought it singular that this place should have been left as we found it, entirely undefended by works or men; but probably the shock given to Pandy's

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nerves on this spot had been too strongly impressed to permit of his again returning there. From the Secundrabagh one road runs down to the Begum's palace, and another to the city. Taking the latter, we soon reached the (once) 32d MessHouse, opposite which we were halted for nearly an hour, to allow our brigade to pass; that part of the road, which had been cut through by the enemy, being next to impassable. We had therefore time to look round, and certainly the magnitude of the enemy's works, which, not content with burying the Mess-House (a large puckha building), swept down to the river on its left, surprised us not a little. The finish, too, of these earthworks showed a superabundant command of labour, and certainly Pandy paid his own pluck but an indifferent compliment when he so hedged it round with walls and ditches. The front of this position had evidently been cleared of all obstacles likely to offer cover to an attacking party. Hall, who was out" with Havelock's gallant band, remarked, pointing to a few heaps of rubbish, "When we went in, a house with garden and wall stood there!" Just at this time the Commander-inChief met us, and had a conference with Sir James Outram, who shortly directed us to march forward. We passed through the Khyzarbagh-a palace larger than that of Versailles -by an impromptu road made by the Sappers and Miners. As at the Mess-House, so here: the ground was dug up and worked up, more like an old rabbit-warren than anything I can think of; the works not only well executed, but showing an amount of engineering skill and a boldness of plan for which we were not prepared. We then advanced towards the Residency, and were shortly under a smart fire of musketry. The word "charge!" was given by Sir James, who was in front, and with a rush we entered the Residency-the 23d leading. The enemy made no stand, and the place was taken where so many were once sheltered, and such sufferings endured. I myself felt an inch taller when looking upon the scene of so much gallantry, suffering, and

noble fortitude. The 23d followed the running enemy; the 1st Fusiliers and Highlanders remaining at the Residency: subsequently the Fusiliers were ordered down the road taken by the 23d, and overtook them, and were then close to the river, between the iron and stone bridges, taking the batteries which protected them in rear, with little or no loss to ourselves. It was near this place Major Brazier was wounded, while advancing at the head of his Sikhs. We were now placed under a Major of Engineers, and ordered to advance, keeping as much under cover as possible, for the enemy here held the houses, which were loopholed. In this way we reached the Muchee - Bawun, from which place several companies were detached to clear the neighbourhood. Sallusbury's company (30 file) pushed right on to the high and gilded gateway which looks into the Hossainee Bagh, taking a small battery of three guns upon the river-bank, in rear, and also securing another gun (a small one) at the gateway itself. So little did the Pandies seem to know how close we were, that Sallusbury's men met one party of the rebels marching up the road down which they were hurrying. I need not say the greeting was warm, nor add that the Pandies vanished down back lanes, through courtyards, and up all sorts of impossible places. It was on this day Lieutenant M'Gregor, late 57th, was made supremely happy. He had joined us shortly after Delhi fell, and never ceased to regret his hard fate, which had not permitted his being present at the final assault. I never met with any officer who had so great a love for the fighting part of his profession. Generally reserved, and by no means talkative, no sooner was there a prospect of a scrimmage than Mac. came out of his box, looking absolutely amiable. At Narnoul he had a delightful day. At Puttialee he lamented that he was not in the cavalry; yet still that occasion was not without its pleasures; but it was only at Lucknow that he was quite content. As above narrated, companies were detached from headquarters to clear out the streets and houses thereabouts, and with one of

these parties went M'Gregor. The men soon got scattered, and he was left with only some five men, who were drawing water from a well by which he was standing, when out rushed several Sepoys upon the party. Our men at once seized their arms, and the fight commenced-one of the bravest of the rebels engaging M'Gregor, each being armed with a sword. It was a regular tilt; the Pandy cutting, and Mac. guarding, as steadily as though he were practising with his old subahdar. At last M'Gregor gave Pandy a cut over the knuckles, and the next instant sent his sword up to the hilt. Mac. returned, looking very warm, and exceedingly wild and happy. Shortly afterwards these detached companies were recalled to the headquarters of the regiment; but a detachment, under Lieutenant and Adjutant Maxwell and Lieutenant Ellis, while searching for Sepoys, reported by a native to be hid in some of the houses, nearly came to an unhappy end. Entering one of the houses, a quantity of gunpowder was discovered, with all the material required to manufacture that article. One of the recruits unfortunately heard Lieutenant Maxwell say this powder ought to be destroyed. He at once discharged his piece into the loose powder. In an instant a fearful explosion took place, fortunately without serious injury to any, though four were burnt. Lieutenant Ellis had again a narrow escape. Strange to say, although his eyebrows and lashes looked as if they had been clipped off, his eyes felt very sore, and his whiskers were nowhere- showing how much he had been in the flame, yet he was hardly injured: but-how shall I write it his mustaches were ruined! I am glad to say he was in a few days able to return to his duty. The next morning (17th) the regiment marched down to Hossainee Bagh, where it has remained to the present time. There was a good deal of firing about and upon this place for a day or so, and the Pandies had the cowardice to make use of women as a means of protecting their own persons; thus involuntarily paying us the highest compliment in their power. Captain Cunliffe, however, showed them they could not even do this

with impunity; for, shooting over the women, he hit the men behind, and the whole party scuttled. Although a few fanatics still remained in the city, there was no fighting after the 17th to speak of; and by the 25th the townspeople were again beginning to return to their homes, and civil authority once more, aided by a powerful police, began to rule the city of Lucknow.

CONCLUDING CHAPTER. "Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;

Our bruised arms hung up for monuments."
Richard III.

Before taking my final leave, a few remarks upon the state of the country through which we have just travelled may not be without interest. Let me then, dear reader, put by swords and round-shot, and say a few words about our crops and villages. Perhaps the most singular feature in the rebellion of 1857 (and there are many) is, that while the whole of this side of India has been for ten or twelve months past one vast scene of anarchy and confusion, with the country overrun and plundered by bands of men a thousand times more brutal and rapacious than our Sepoys (bad enough in all conscience), with town fighting against town, tribe against tribe, property a mere matter of might, and with human life counting as next to nought;

notwithstanding all this, the poor ryot of India has gone on scratching and sowing his fields just as he did, good man, in 1855-56. Turn off the grand trunk road, where there are too many proofs of 1857, get away from the blackened walls of police stations, houses, &c., and you will find it hard indeed, in a country so magnificently cultivated as that we have passed through since we first left Delhi, to believe yourself still in the midst of revolted India.

Large villages everywhere met the eye buried in crops of every species of grain; and although very many of the villages seemed deserted, lowing cows and playing children tell you that the villagers were not far distant. We owe it to our Sepoys, and those who duped them into turning against us, that the villagers begin

to fear and run from the white man. Some Mehwaltee women, hiding among the hills, told a servant of mine, when asked why the Mehwaltees were in arms, that "they had heard the British Government was going to make Feringhees of them all!" Perhaps if you asked these people what induced them to toil and work, when unable to say who might reap their harvest, they would be unable to answer the question. The ryots of India (I allude to the present generation), ignorant of the history of their own land, the exactions of a Mogul dynasty, and the olden raids of the Maharatta and Pindaree, have toiled in their fields during 1857 in a way which would certainly never have continued. The peasantry may or may not have foreseen the reestablishment of British supremacy; the chances are, that the mass of people believed that our sun had set for ever; and I attribute the luxuriant cultivation which we beheld to no political calculation on the part of the gentle Hindoo, but simply to the "humdrum, to-day-as-yesterday" character of the people of Hindostan. In those districts in which any numbers of our Sepoys, or other rebels have been quartered, there will be distress enough amongst the villagers. The grain saved for future consumption has been consumed not paid for; and until the next crops can be got in, unless immediate steps are taken to relieve these districts, we must be prepared to hear of distress and famine. There has been no failure in the crops; the pressure has simply been too great upon this or upon that part of the country; the number of mouths to be fed is actually smaller than it was in 1856, and all that we want is a little equalisation of the grain left us.

Almost all our large cities have been sacked again and again, and in many cases by the country people round them; and millions of money, buried by the cupidity of the Hindoo, are now scattered broadcast over the land. The destruction of a village means nothing. A people who live without furniture or household goods can lose little; some grass and bamboos rectify matters in a week. Really it is not too much to say that

India itself has suffered little by 1857. I speak of houses, money, and the land only; and the people, as a body, are too well aware of the advantages of peace and quiet to be anxious for a renewal of the tragedy of 1857-58. The warlike races, too, must be thoroughly convinced of the futility of their late attempt, and all resistance must shortly cease.

Looking back to the time when the Punjab was a hostile nation, it is impossible not to wonder at the present peaceful condition of that country, or not to be surprised at the subsidence of animosity among nations of the East, or, at any rate, the open demonstration of such a feeling. Perhaps, for our future rule in India, it might have been well had success attended the Sepoy mutiny; the advantage of our Government would then have been amply demonstrated to the meanest capacity in a way never to be forgotten. As it is, the whole of the Poorbeah race will feel that they have failed in a grand attempt to seize the empire of the East, and the value of the prize will probably obscure the villany of their conduct. At any rate, we cannot expect any of that race to feel affection for those who have deprived their relations of life, and themselves, as a body, of a service in which the young and daring could always have found employment and pay.

How England will be able to stand the drain of men for ever in future required to establish our ascendancy in India, is indeed a matter of the most serious consideration; and the effect on so many Englishmen, banished from home-influences for years, is a prospect not at present to be contemplated with any degree of satisfaction. The sentiments, too, between the European and Asiatic must be entirely for some time antagonistic. It is impossible to avoid feelings of animosity to those who have proved so vile, treacherous, and worthless ; while they, on their part, must surely be full of hatred, bitterness, and fear against those who have so indisputably shown their terrible power and courage.

It seems inevitable that the English in India must certainly for years remain more distinct and separate

than ever from the native he governs. The small link connecting the two, which seemed strengthening, has been rudely torn asunder, and how anything like union can be established is a problem remaining to be solved. 'Tis impossible to help feel

ing that the mere suppression of the mutiny is but a very small part of our difficulty, and the statesman who shall set our rule upon a firm and secure basis will indeed deserve well of his country.

THE question of the Principalities, which has received much attention in several countries of the European continent, and has been extensively discussed by the foreign press, has in England obtained little notice; and has been disposed of by English statesmen, in the opinion of the parties most immediately concerned, in a manner at once unfair and unwise. The Moldo-Wallachians are extremely angry with this country for having, as they allege, not only abandoned them, but raised their hopes to a high pitch, and then dashed them to the ground. They recall words spoken by Lord Clarendon in the Paris Conference of 1856, others uttered by Lord Palmerston in the House of Commons; and they point to the manifest contradiction between those expressions and the line of conduct since pursued by those statesmen. They feel themselves the more aggrieved by what they term England's desertion of their cause, because they are convinced that, had she been true to them, their wishes would have been fulfilled. Austria and Turkey must have yielded to the will of the other five powers. England's defection is believed to have influenced France, and the Roumans look upon their cause as lost for the present. More than this, they believe, with or without reason, that if England threw them overboard, it was to oblige Austria, that inveterate foe to struggling nationalities, and the power above all others unpopular, and even execrated, in the Principalities. Some idea may therefore be formed of the excessively bad odour in which the

name of Great Britain now is at Bucharest and at Jassy.

One of the main objects of the Crimean war was to protect from Russian encroachment the fertile and wealthy provinces of Wallachia and Moldavia, and to secure them to Turkey, the suzerain, but not the sovereign power. The policy of England, since the war, seems directed, the Roumans say, to alienate them more and more from Turkey, and to throw them into the arms of Russia. This has, of course, not been her aim, but they protest that it will be the inevitable result. In England, owing to graver cares and to domestic topics, few persons have gone to the pains of sifting the subject; few know anything about the provinces in question, or trouble themselves to investigate their past history and present condition. There is a general notion that they are corn-producing, semi-civilised, and corrupt, a bone of contention amongst adjacent powers, and that the amount of trouble they give is altogether disproportionate to their size and real importance. The aspirations of their inhabitants to the union of Moldavia and Wallachia, and to their erection into a small state under a foreign prince, have been looked upon as visionary and impracticable. Altogether, the strain of argument adopted has been generally unfavourable to the plan for the consolidation of Rouman nationality. Audi alteram partem is a fair and wholesome maxim; and it is not uninteresting at this moment, when the Paris Conference is actually sitting for the settlement of this