"Of the officers engaged only Wriford, Wallace, and I are untouched. My preservation (I don't like the word escape) was miraculous." ...
Nicholson dangerously hit; ten out of seventeen engineer officers killed or wounded.
... "'You may count our real officers on your fingers now.'
"Sept. 16th.—I grieve much for poor Jacob; we buried him and three sergeants of the regiment, last night; he was a noble soldier. His death has made me captain, the long wished-for goal; but I would rather have served on as a subaltern than gained promotion thus.
"Sept. 19th.— We are making slow progress in the city. The fact is, the troops are utterly demoralized by hard work and hard drink, I grieve to say. For the first time in my life, I have had to see English soldiers refuse, repeatedly, to follow their officers. Greville, Jacob, Nicholson, and Speke were all sacrificed to this.
"Sept. 22d.—In the Royal Palace, Delhi.—I was quite unable to write yesterday, having had a hard day's work. I was fortunate enough to capture the King and his favorite wife. To-day, more fortunate still, I have seized and destroyed the King's two sons and a grandson (the famous, or rather infamous, Abu Bukt), the villains who ordered the massacre of our women and children, and stood by and witnessed the foul barbarity; their bodies are now lying on the spot where those of the unfortunate ladies were exposed. I am very tired, but very much satisfied with my day's work, and so seem all hands."
This is Hodson's account of the two most remarkable exploits in even his career. We have no space to give his own full narrative, which he writes later, upon being pressed to do so; or the graphic account of Macdowell, his lieutenant, which will be found in the book, and it would be literary murder to mutilate such gems. As to defending the shooting of the two princes, let those do it who feel that a defence is needed, for we believe that no Englishman, worth convincing, now doubts as to the righteousness and policy of the act, and probably the old Radical general-officer and M. P., who thought it his duty to call Hodson hard names at the time, has reconsidered his opinion. Whether he has or not, however, matters little. He who did the deed, and is gone, cared not for hasty or false tongues,—why should we?
"Strange," he says, "that some of those who are loudest against me for sparing the King, are also crying out at my destroying his sons. 'Quousque tandem?' I may well exclaim. But, in point of fact, I am quite indifferent to clamor either way. I made up my mind, at the time, to be abused. I was convinced I was right, and when I prepared to run the great physical risk of the attempt, I was equally game for the moral risk of praise or blame. These have not been, and are not times when a man who would serve his country dare hesitate, as to the personal consequences to himself, of what he thinks his duty."
"By Jove, Hodson, they ought to make you Commander-in-Chief for this," shouts the enthusiast to whom the prisoners were handed over. "Well, I'm glad you have got him, but I never expected to see either him or you again," says the Commander-in-Chief, and sits down and writes the following despatch:—