Never shall behold the light."
But it is time for us to turn from the book to the man, and we think our readers will thank us for giving them the best picture which our space will allow of him and his work, as nearly as may be in his own words; only begging them to bear in mind that these letters were written in the strictest confidence to his nearest relations, and that so far from wishing to make his own deeds known during his life, he resolutely refused to allow his letters to be made public.
William Stephen Raikes Hodson, third son of the Archdeacon of Stafford, was born in March, 1821, and went, when fourteen years old, to Rugby, where he stayed for more than four years, two of which were spent in the sixth form under Arnold. At school he was a bright, pleasant boy, fond of fun, and with abilities decidedly above the average, but of no very marked distinction, except as a runner; in which exercise, however, he was almost unequalled, and showed great powers of endurance. None of his old schoolfellows have been surprised to hear of his success as the head of the Intelligence Department of an army, or of his marvellous marches and appearances in impossible places as Captain of Irregular Horse. Such performances only carry us back to first calling over, when we used to see him come in splashed and hot, and to hear his cheery "Old fellow! I've been to Brinklow since dinner." But, as a boy, he was not remarkable for physical strength or courage, and none of us would have foretold that he would become one of the most daring and successful swordsmen in the Indian army. We only mention the fact, because it is of great importance that the truth in this matter, which the lives of Hodson and others have established, should be as widely acknowledged as possible. A man born without any natural defect can, in this as in other respects, make his own character; no man need be a coward who will not be one; and a high purpose steadfastly kept in view will, in the end, help a man to the doing of nobler deeds of daring than any amount of natural combativeness.
From Rugby he went to Trinity, Cambridge, where he took his degree in 1844; but, fortunately for his country, and (let us own it, hard as it is as yet to do so) for himself also, a constitutional tendency to headache led him to choose the army rather than a learned profession. After a short service in the Guernsey militia, which he entered to escape superannuation, he got a cadetship, and embarked for India. Sir William Napier, then Governor of Guernsey, gave him a letter to his brother, Sir Charles, and himself wrote of him, "I think he will be an acquisition to any service. His education, his ability, his zeal to make himself acquainted with military matters, gave me the greatest satisfaction during his service with the militia." His brother's letter never was presented to Sir Charles Napier, as we infer from the passage at p. 156, where it is mentioned again, "I didn't show him his brother's letter," writes Hodson in 1850, "that he might judge for himself first, and know me 'per se,' or rather 'per me.' I will, however, if ever I see him again." He never saw Sir Charles again; but what a glimpse of the man's character we get from these few lines.
On the 13th of September, 1845, Hodson landed in India, and went up country at once to Agra. Here he found the Hon. James Thomason, Lieutenant-Governor of the Northwest Provinces, a family friend and connection, with whom he stayed till November 2d, when he was appointed to do duty with the 2d Grenadiers, and began his military career as part of the escort of the Governor-General, who was on his way to the Punjab. In that quarter a black cloud had gathered, which it was high time should be looked after.
Hodson, however, marches on, all unconscious, and his first letters give no hint of coming battle, but contain a charmingly graphic description of the life of an Indian army on march. Here, too, in the very outset, we find that rare virtue of making the best of everything peeping out, which so strongly characterized him.
"It is a sudden change of temperature, truly,—from near freezing at starting, to 90° or 100° at arriving. It sounds hot, but a tent at 84° is tolerably endurable, especially if there is a breeze."
At Umbala, he attends a grand muster of troops, and sees the Irregulars for the first time.
"The quiet-looking and English-dressed Hindoo troopers strangely contrasted with the wild Irregulars in all the fanciful ununiformity of their native costume: yet these last are the men I fancy for service."
This was on the 2d of December. On Christmas-day he writes:—