I feel glad and grateful to have known, even for a few passing moments, what that influence had been; and when I found out Brigadier-General Nicholson's grave at Delhi, after my Ludlow Castle experience, I left my flowers on the grave of an honoured acquaintance, rather than of a man known to me only through historical records.
One more incident, or rather coincidence, and I must close my Indian chapter.
This also is connected with the Mutiny and with Delhi, but the special coincidence, to which I refer, took place at Agra, when my friend and I were staying at the hotel there in the early spring of 1891.
One of my oldest and most valued friends is Lieutenant-Colonel Alfred S. Jones, V.C., formerly of the 9th Lancers, and one of our Mutiny heroes. As everything connected with that historical tragedy seems to have perennial interest for every Englishman—no matter what his creed or politics—I make no excuse for furnishing some details connected with my friend's career. His record from Hart's Army List is as follows:—
"Lieutenant-Colonel Jones was present at the battle of Budlekee Serai, and at Delhi throughout the siege operations, including the assault and capture of the city, having been D.A.Q.M.G. from 8th August to 23rd September 1857. Served with the 9th Lancers in Greathead's pursuing column, and was present in the actions of Bolimshuhur and Alighur and battle of Agra—where he was dangerously wounded, having received a musket-shot wound and twenty-two sabre cuts. He was mentioned in the despatches of Sir Hope Grant on three different occasions, and has received the Victoria Cross for taking a nine-pounder gun, with the assistance of some men from his squadron, in the action of Budlekee Serai (medal with clasp and Brevet of Major)."
Although, as a child, I had heard of the bravery and the terrible wounds of one who was to become later in life one of my greatest friends, the actual details of the Agra catastrophe were hazy in my memory. Two things, however, had remained firmly imbedded in my mind—first, that a brother officer had told me that he was standing close by Colonel Jones when, as a young officer, the latter attended the Levée to receive his Victoria Cross, and that the Queen was so much agitated by his appearance that she could hardly pin it on. Also, that this brother officer heard her whisper to her husband: "My God, Albert! look at that poor boy! He has been cut to pieces!"
The other childish memory is that the Taj had been turned into a hospital at the time of the Mutiny, and that my friend, amongst others, had been nursed there. This latter proved to have been a mistake on the part of my informants. It was the Moti Musjid (the Pearl Mosque) which was turned to this account, and in which my friend was nursed back to life, to the surprise of all who knew the extent of his disaster.
It is specially important for people blessed, or cursed, with psychic gifts "to give no occasion to the enemy" by exaggeration or inexact memory of details. So, with the wholesome dread of a well-read reviewer before my eyes, I determined to go to the fountain-head, and ask Colonel Jones himself to supply me with the true incidents which make the Agra episode a moving picture before our eyes. He has kindly consented to do this, and I give the narrative in his own words:—
After the fall of Delhi, a column, under General Greathead, was sent down to Lucknow, and as three squadrons of the 9th Lancers were told off to go, I resigned my staff appointment, and went with my troop.
After two fights—Bolimshuhur and Alighur—we were hurried off to Agra, sixty-six miles in thirty-six hours. But on arrival we found that the Agra people had recovered from their fright and Greathead was fool enough to believe their story that the enemy was twelve miles away, and therefore took up ground for our camp, just by the graveyard and parade-ground, which you will remember. There was a high crop of sugar-cane, concealing everything beyond the parade-ground, and after most of the officers of the whole force had gone off to Agra Fort to breakfast with friends, cannon-shot began to fall amongst us; and everyone had time to fall in, as the horses had not been unsaddled.