Cawnpore, February 10th.—I got here in good time yesterday, but was kept constantly at work fomenting this tiresome arm, which had got somewhat inflamed from the effects of the journey. To-day we cross the river, and encamp a mile or two on the other side, and there I hope to halt for a few days. I found letters here from Calcutta, and have had a visit from Charles Harland, who is as jolly and hearty as ever. Our friend (Napier) is Chief Engineer with the force, and a Brigadier to boot. I hope to see him in a day or two. I have not been to the Chief's camp yet; it is a long way off, and my arm has prevented me doing anything. I shall be very thankful when it is well, if but to use it for writing,—this left-handed calligraphy is sad slow work.
Camp on the left bank of the Ganges, February 11th.—I came across the river late in the evening, and am very glad I did so, as the air is much purer, and there is no dust. My arm is already better for the rest, and I hope soon to be able to begin to use it. Do not buoy yourself up with hope of honors for me. I shall be a Brevet-Major, and nothing more I expect. It seems the authorities here never sent home a list of men recommended for honors; and the home authorities have been waiting until they get one. "Hinc illæ lacrymæ!" And we shall all suffer by the delay in more ways than one. But we are certainly to have prize money, and this, with the batta, will take us home this time next year if not sooner. Dear, dear home, sadly changed and contracted since I left it, but home still, and dearer than ever since the dearest part of myself will accompany me.... All old home memories were so vividly revived yesterday by Charles Harland's visit, and an extract he read me from a letter from his brother, describing the enthusiasm of the old people at Colwich,[68] when the news arrived that the King of Delhi was our prisoner, and how they came to inquire whether it was really their "Master William" who had done it? Bless their innocent hearts, where was they riz? as —— would say. I am sadly at a loss for a second in command, and do not know whom to ask for, as officers are so scarce. I have twice made an attempt to ask for Reginald to join me to do duty, but my fears for you have made me hesitate; and the lesson of the other day has taught me the fearful risk the dear boy would run in an irregular cavalry regiment, with such work as mine. Still, if you and he wish it, I will ask for him.
February 12th.—Here I am, you see, writing (such as it is) with my right hand once more. I am, indeed, wonderfully better, and hope to be on horseback in a few days. The scar on my arm is a very ugly one, and will mark me for life; but then, as I am not a lady to wear short sleeves, it does not signify. I was much disappointed this morning to hear from Colonel Bevin, who came out to see me, that Napier had been through our camp this morning, not knowing I was here! He is in Cawnpore, and the doctor wont let me go and see him to-day, and we march on towards Lucknow to-morrow. It will be some days yet before the whole force is collected at Alumbagh. Captain Peel has just gone by with his sailors and their enormous ship-guns, 68-pounders! I have little doubt but that Lucknow will be in our hands before another month is over; and then I shall do my utmost to get my regiment sent back to Umbâla to be formed and drilled, which it wants badly. I only wonder it does as well as it is. I could hardly take any other appointment, or even go home, until I had completed this task; and I like my regiment, and what is even more to the purpose, the regiment likes me, and would follow me any and everywhere, I do believe.
Camp, Oonao, February 13th.—Only a short letter to-day, as I have been writing a right-handed one to "O.," to satisfy the dear anxious hearts at home. I am able to use my arm, but very gently, and shall ride to-morrow. Oh, the pleasure of feeling myself on the outside of a horse again!
February 14th.—Your telegram has been going the rounds of all the camps before it found me out. Indeed, you must not be anxious on my account, or listen to the wild reports which are always rife. Be sure, if anything were amiss, there are plenty of our friends here to send you the truth. I could not dream of your coming to Cawnpore. I would not hear of it even at Futtehgurh, for, though your nursing and presence would be infinitely precious to me, a camp is no fit place for you. I am, indeed, going on wonderfully, and but for the attack of inflammation I spoke of, and which turned out to be erysipelas, I should have been quite well before this; and as it is, I am actually nearer to a total cure than the men (Sikhs even) who were wounded the same day. My abstinence from spirit-drinking has stood me in good stead.
February 15th.—No letters again to-day! I wish the Commander-in-Chief would come out from Cawnpore, and there would be some chance of better postal duty. He is said to be waiting until the convoy of ladies from Agra has passed down, lest anything should occur to disturb the road where he had crossed into Oude with the army,—a not unlikely thing to happen. I have just seen a notice of my birth, parentage, and education, and services, in the Illustrated News, as also Seaton's account of the capture of the Princes. Strange to say, the former is not wrong or exaggerated in any principal point. The latter is also in the Evening Mail, and I have the honor of appearing in big print in the leading article. I see also a letter signed "A Civilian;" not a bad résumé in its way. I can cock and fire a pistol with the right hand, and am constantly working the arm about to prevent its growing stiff; and I want to show how much the will has to do with getting over these things.
Oonao, February 16th.—I have this morning succeeded in exhuming four letters from the bottom of about a hundred-weight of correspondence addressed to all parts of the world; the bag was sent up here in the night for people to find their letters as they could. Mine have made me so happy. This has been a red-letter day too, for I have at last seen our friend Napier. He rode out here with Sir Colin, and I need not say how thoroughly delighted I was to see him once more. He is looking better but older than when we parted, but his charming, affectionate manner is as nice as ever. God bless him! I do love him dearly, as if he were indeed my born brother. A note from him arrived while he was here; it had been three days going ten miles! Sir Colin was most kind and cordial, and prophesies I shall soon be Lieut.-Colonel. I told him I feared there was small hope of that, unless my majority could be counted as for the Punjaub campaign, as Lord Dalhousie promised, but that it had not been put on record. He immediately said, "Oh, I'll do that with the greatest pleasure; let me have a memorandum of your services, and I'll do all I can for you, and I hope soon to shake hands with you as Lieut.-Colonel, C. B., and Victoria Cross to boot." I confess I liked this, because it was spontaneous; it is not the first time I have heard a whisper about the Victoria Cross, and I confess I do care most for this; I would rather have it than be made a duke. My arm is going on admirably, and you may be quite satisfied about me now I am near our friend; he will always do what is kind, that we may be quite sure of, and all that is best and tenderest too, where you or I are concerned. I shall try to get away immediately after Lucknow is taken, but I fear every man may be needed for some time, even after that much-desired event takes place.
Camp, Oonao, February 17th.—I grieve deeply at your anxiety, and can scarcely understand your "terror at the very name of Cawnpore and Lucknow," except for what has passed. I am not nearly so much exposed to peril here as at Delhi; the place, too, and time of year are more healthy; so continue to "hope on," bravely now as ever, until the end, which must be very soon.... I am going to spend to-morrow in Cawnpore with Napier, and have a big talk. The delay in the brevet is an accident, not owing to the home authorities. It has gone home now, and my name is in it, Sir Colin told me.
Cawnpore, February 19th.—I shall ride back to Oonao early to-morrow morning; the temptation of Napier's society was irresistible; it is such a pleasure to see him again. There will be no move hence until the 23d, I think, though it is getting rapidly hot in this hateful place; but on the other side the river it is cool, and Lucknow is even more so, I hear. Osborn Wilkinson has been here, and has gone on towards Alumbagh. I shall try and get him for my regiment, if but to do duty; he is a fine fellow and thorough soldier.
Oonao, February 20th.—I rode out from Cawnpore this morning; Colonels Napier and Lugard accompanying me for some miles,—the latter only arrived yesterday; he is to command a division as Brigadier-General, I am glad to say. Our friend is nicer than ever, and looking well.