honour to his name on the 27th of the same month, not knowing then that the soldier's time for struggle and for honour was over. The title was transferred to his son, the present Sir Henry Havelock, who had fought gallantly under his father's eyes. The fame of Havelock's exploits reached England only a little in advance of the news of his death. So many brilliant deeds had seldom in the history of our wars been crowded into days so few. All the fame of that glorious career was the work of some strenuous splendid weeks. Havelock's promotion had been slow. He had not much for which to thank the favour of his superiors. No family influence, no powerful patrons or friends had made his slow progress more easy. He was more than sixty when the mutiny broke out. He was born in April, 1795; he was educated at the Charterhouse, London, where his grave, studious ways procured for him the nickname of 'old phlos ' -the schoolboy's 'short' for 'old philosopher.' He went out to India in 1823, and served in the Burmese war of 1824, and, the Sikh war of 1845. He was a man of grave and earnest character, a Baptist by religion, and strongly penetrated with a conviction that the religious spirit ought to pervade and inform all the duties of military as well as civil life. By his earnestness and his example he succeeded in animating those whom he led with similar feelings; and 'Havelock's saints' were well-known through India by this distinctive appropriate title. 'Havelock's saints' showed, whenever they had an opportunity, that they could fight as desperately as the most reck

1857.

COLIN CAMPBELL AT CAWNPORE.

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less sinners; and their commander found the fame flung in his way, across the path of his duty, which he never would have swerved one inch from that path to seek. Amid all the excitement of hope and fear, passion and panic, in England, there was time for the whole heart of the nation to feel pride in Havelock's career and sorrow for his untimely death. Untimely? Was it after all untimely? Since when has it not been held the crown of a great career that the hero dies at the moment of accomplished victory?

Sir Colin Campbell left General Outram in charge of Alumbagh for the purpose of keeping watch upon the movements of the insurgents who were still strong in the city of Lucknow. Sir Colin himself advanced towards Cawnpore, where he soon found that there was some serious work to be done. A large hostile force, composed chiefly of the revolted army of Scindiah, the ruler of Gwalior, had been marching upon Cawnpore; and General Windham who held the command there had gone out to attack them. It fared with him, however, very much as it had done with Sir Henry Lawrence near Lucknow; he found the enemy far too strong for him; he was compelled to retreat, not without severe loss, to his entrenchments at Cawnpore, and the enemy occupied the city itself. Sir Colin Campbell attacked the rebels at one place; Sir Hope Grant attacked them at another, and Cawnpore was retaken. Sir Colin Campbell then turned his attention to the very important work of reconquering the entire city of Lucknow and dispers

ing the great body of rebels who were concentrated there. It was not until March 19, 1858, that Lucknow fell completely into the hands of the English. Our operations had been almost entirely by artillery, and had been conducted with consummate prudence as well as boldness, and our loss was therefore very small, while the enemy suffered most severely. About 2,000 of the rebels were killed in the final attack, and more than 100 of their guns were taken. Among our wounded were the gallant leader of the naval brigade, Sir William Peel, son of the great statesman; and among the killed was Hodson, of Hodson's Horse,' the executioner of the princes of Delhi. Sir William Peel died at Cawnpore shortly after, of small-pox, his death remarked and lamented even amid all the noble deaths of that eventful time. One name must not be forgotten among those who endured the siege of Lucknow. It is that of Dr. Brydon, whom we last saw as he appeared under the walls of Jellalabad, the one survivor come back to tell the tale of the disastrous retreat from Cabul. A gifted artist, Mrs. Thompson-Butler, has lately painted that picture as no words could paint it. Dr. Brydon served through the Lucknow defence, and was specially named in the despatch of the Governor-General. After passing through the Cabul campaign of 1841-42,' the Governor-General says of Dr. Brydon, he was included in the illustrious garrison who maintained the position in Jellalabad. He may now, as one of the heroes of Lucknow, claim to have witnessed and taken part in an achievement even more conspicuous, as an example

1858.

THE RANEE OF JHANSI.

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of the invincible energy and enduring courage of British soldiers.'

Practically, the reconquest of Lucknow was the final blow in the suppression of the great Bengal mutiny. The two centres of the movement were Delhi and Lucknow; and when these strongholds were once more in the hands of the English, rebellion in the land had well-nigh lost its sway. There was hardly, after that time, any rebel camp left to which it would have been worth carrying a flag of truce. Some episodes of the war, however, were still worthy of notice. For example, the rebels seized Gwalior, the capital of the Maharajah Scindia, who escaped to Agra. The English had to attack the rebels, retake Gwalior, and restore Scindia. One of those who fought to the last on the rebels' side was the Ranee, or Princess of Jhansi, whose territory, as we have already seen, had been one of our annexations. She had flung all her energies into the rebellion, regarding it clearly as a rebellion, and not as a mere mutiny. She took the field with Nana Sahib and Tantia Topee. For months after the fall of Delhi, she contrived to baffle Sir Hugh Rose and the English. She led squadrons in the field. She fought with her own hand. She was engaged against us in the battle for the possession of Gwalior. In the uniform of a cavalry officer she led charge after charge, and she was killed among those who resisted to the last. Her body was found upon the field, scarred with wounds enough in the front to have done credit to any hero. Sir Hugh Rose paid her the well-deserved tribute which a

generous conqueror is always glad to be able to offer. He said, in his general order, that the best man upon the side of the enemy was the woman found dead, the Ranee of Jhansi.'

The Maharajah Scindia of Gwalior had deserved well of the English Government. Under every temptation, every threat, and many profound perils from the rebellion, he had remained firm to his friendship. So, too, had Holkar, the Maharajah of the Indore territory. Both these princes were young when the mutiny broke out; some twenty-three years old, each of them; at a time of life, therefore, when ambition and enterprise might have been expected to tempt with fullest fascination. Holkar was actually believed, in the beginning, to have favoured the rebellion; he was deliberately accused of having taken part with it; there are, even still, those who would argue that he was its accomplice; so closely were his fortunes, to all appearance, bound up with the cause of the mutineers, and so natural did it seem that he should fail to hold out against them. But he disappointed all such expectations on the part of our enemies, and proved himself a faithful friend of England. The country owes much to those two princes, for the part they took at her hour of need; and she has not, we are glad to think, proved herself ungrateful.

The administration of Patna by Mr. William Tayler supplied an episode which is still discussed with something like partizan keenness. Patna is the Mahomedan capital of the region east of Benares, and