This news has put the whole camp, even the croakers, of whom there are not a few, in high spirits. I only hope it is not too good to be true.
As a set-off against this, news has arrived that Tudor Tucker, his wife, and Sam Fisher, are among the victims of this horrible insurrection, also, poor James Thomason; and of his brother-in-law's, Dr. Hay's, execution, there can be no longer a doubt. How many hecatombs of Sepoys would it require to atone for their deaths alone. When shall we see the last; when know the full extent of these horrible atrocities? The accounts make one's blood run fire. Our dear Douglas Seaton has arrived in England, much restored by the voyage, but not, I fear, sufficiently recovered to return, as soon as he would hear of the outbreak. A sad blow for him, poor fellow, for had he been here to command the regiment, he would probably have been a full Colonel and C. B. at the end. I am seriously uneasy at receiving no letters from England, though mail after mail must have arrived, and some people get their letters! therefore why not I mine? We get none even from Agra, and of course not below it, except by "Kossid," and they but little scraps, written half in Greek characters, to mislead or deceive, if the unfortunate bearer is stopped. They conceal them very ingeniously between the leather of their shoes, or tied up in their hair. I inclose one that came in even a more singular letter-bag than either, rolled up in a piece of wax and packed into a hollow tooth.
—— tells me that —— was furious at my having the Guides, but was compelled to acquiesce in it "as it was undoubtedly the best thing for the public service." How he must have winced when he was forced to confess that.
July 28th.—I have no news. The Pandies have not attacked us since the 23d, and are much dispirited. In reply to your and Mrs. ——'s wish to come to Delhi as nurses, I must say honestly that there is no necessity for such a sacrifice. Our position here is very different from that in the Crimea and at Scutari. There the men died from want of care and of the ordinary necessaries of life. Here there is no absolute want of anything, except a genial climate and well-built hospitals, neither of which you could supply. The men are attended to immediately they are sick or wounded; and within an hour, sometimes half that time, of his being wounded, a soldier is in his bed, with everything actually necessary, and the greatest medical attention. Unless any unforeseen emergency should arise, I would strongly dissuade any lady from coming to camp.
I have always urged the authorities to send away, as fast as possible, those who have arrived as refugees. We have a vast camp, or rather position, five miles in circumference, and we are constantly obliged to take every man into the field. The guard for our sick is trifling enough, and our difficulties would be increased were there women also to be thought of; and God forbid that any more lives should be risked in this dreadful servile war. There is also another consideration of much weight against the tender sympathy which prompts the offer. How is a delicate woman's constitution to bear up against the evils of a tented field in the rains, or render efficient service in such a climate as this is now? They would all very speedily become patients in the very hospitals which they came to serve and would so willingly support. The flannel garments are invaluable, and this is all that can be done for us by female hands at present.
July 29th.—I have been so occupied with business all day that I have only time to say we have had no more fighting, and the whole atmosphere is still, but hot, oh, so hot! General Wilson is unwell, and will probably break down, like the rest. These sexagenarians are unfit for work in July. I expect Napier will be with the advancing troops. I sincerely hope so. He is the man to do something, if they will but let him.
July 31st.—I intended writing more fully to make up for my late short-comings, but the Pandies permit it not. They made an attempt on our position this morning; nothing more, however, than a distant cannonade. A large party have moved round in our rear, and this has kept me in the saddle all day. I have just returned, after some hours of the heaviest rain I was ever out in, drenched to the skin, of course, and somewhat tired, so judge what a comfort a dry flannel shirt must be. There was no actual fighting, so with the exception of keeping us out so long, and a great expenditure of powder and shot, no harm was done.
August 1st.—The continued heavy rain promises to give me more time for pen-work to-day, if no more takes place on this side of Pandy-monium. The box has arrived safely with the new "jumpers," &c. Lord William's additions are invaluable. We have fresh accounts from below that every European woman and child have been ruthlessly murdered at Cawnpore. The details are too revolting to put on paper, and make one's blood boil. Mothers with infants in their arms murdered with fiendish cruelty, and worse than all, two young girls just arrived from England are said to have been only saved to meet a worse fate in some Mussulman's zenana. There will be a day of reckoning for these things, and a fierce one, or I have been a soldier in vain. You say there is a great difference between doing one's duty and running unnecessary risks, and you say truly; the only question is, what is one's duty. Now, I might, as I have more than once, see things going wrong at a time and place when I might be merely a spectator, and not "on duty," or ordered to be there, and I might feel that by exposing myself to danger for a time I might rectify matters, and I might therefore think it right to incur that danger; and yet if I were to get hit, it would be said "he had no business there;" nor should I, as far as the rules of the service go, though in my own mind I should have been satisfied that I was right. These are times when every man should do his best, his utmost, and not say, "No; though I see I can do good there, yet, as I have not been ordered and am not on duty, I will not do it." This is not my idea of a soldier's duty, and hitherto the results have proved me right. Poor Eaton Travers, of Coke's regiment, was killed this morning. He had just come from England viâ Bombay, with a young wife, whom he left at Lahore. Poor young thing, a sad beginning and end for her. We send off convoys of the sick and wounded to Umbâla, where we hear they are well tended and are doing well. Even here everything possible is done for them; Dr. Brougham is an excellent man, and first-rate surgeon, quite the man of the camp in his line, clever, indefatigable, and humane.
2d.—The rebels attacked us about 5 p. m. yesterday, and kept us at it till seven or eight this morning. Our people kept steadily at their posts and behind intrenchments, and drove them back with steady volleys every time they came near. The result was, that they were punished severely, while our loss was a very trifling one, not more than half a dozen Europeans killed and wounded; it is next to impossible ever to ascertain accurately what the enemy's loss is.