[135].

[136]. The condition of the British quarters in Agra at the beginning of the year was briefly told by one of the writers in the Mofussilite newspaper, after the severe pressure on the garrison had ceased: ‘The fort is being abandoned by every one who has a house which can be made in the least degree habitable; but many people will still be compelled to remain within its gloomy walls for an indefinite period; as in many instances the destruction of houses has been so complete, that it will be a work of time and a matter of considerable expense to place them in anything like decent repair.... As we are fortunate enough to possess a good house with a pucka roof, which has been put into excellent repair, we intend publishing next Tuesday’s paper in that building—the former printing-office of the Mofussilite. We shall all be put to great straits for furniture, crockery, and such like things; for although a charpoy (stump-bedstead), a teapoy, and a couple of broken chairs, were as much as we could find room for in one of our little cells of the fort, yet we shall soon require rather more when we dwell in roomier habitations. Our distant friends must know that it is a rare thing to see two plates of the same pattern on any table, and that none but those upon whom fortune has smiled indulge in glass tumblers. Tin pots are the height of our ambition. Port, sherry, brandy, Allsopp, and Bass, are beverages generally as unknown to this community as they were to Robinson Crusoe.’

Sir James Outram.

CHAPTER XXIV.
MILITARY OPERATIONS IN FEBRUARY.

Impatient as the whole British nation was to hear of a brilliant and successful termination of the struggle in India, every telegram, every weekly mail, shewed that the time for this satisfaction was still far distant. The mutineers were beaten, but not crushed; the rebellious chieftains were checked, but not extinguished; their deluded followers were disappointed in the results obtained, but not deterred from making further efforts. England, with all her delays and waverings of opinion, had sent over a large, fine, and complete army; the Punjaub had supplied such a force of reliable troops as no one would have ventured beforehand to anticipate; generals had been brought into notice by the exigencies of public affairs who possessed those fine soldierly attributes which a nation is proud to recognise; the authorities, steady at their posts, never for a moment doubted that the British ‘raj’ would be established on a firmer basis than ever—and yet everything was in turmoil in India. Blood and treasure were being daily expended; but the time had not arrived when any adequate return was obtained for these losses. January having passed, men speculated whether Lucknow and Oude—to say nothing of other cities and provinces—would fall permanently into British hands during the month of February. What was the response to this much-mooted question, the present chapter will shew.

The gallant commander-in-chief, Sir Colin Campbell, being the chief actor in the busy military scenes of the period, it may be well to trace his movements during the month of February, before noticing the marchings and battles of other generals.