the walls of old Delhi fort; he found an excited crowd following it and pressing on the little party. The narrowness of the way and the proximity of the walls of the old fort gave a probability of success to any attempt at rescue which might be made, and Hodson was determined that nothing should enable the prisoners to escape. In a moment his mind was made up. As the crowd became more threatening he stopped the cart, and having made the princes strip off their upper garments, he seized a carbine from one of his men, and shot them with his own hand.

In the controversy which has arisen over this act of Hodson's we have no wish to take a part. No impartial person will deny that the princes who were shot by him deserved death: at the same time most people will agree that it would have been better for Hodson's own reputation and interests had he not dealt them summary punishment with his own hand. But, as in the case of Bisharat Ali, so here, no personal feelings would prevent him from doing unflinchingly what he conceived to be his duty; and a very careful study of existing evidence, as well as personal examination of the locality and distances traversed, lead us to the conclusion that Hodson certainly considered that the success of his enterprise, if not the lives of himself and his men, depended on instant action. It may be added that the deed was generally applauded not only by soldiers but by almost every Englishman in India; that it

had the very best moral effect on the crowds of malcontents who still lingered about Delhi; and the opinion of the vast majority of Hodson's countrymen, both then and now, is expressed in words written two years afterwards: "No more righteous deed was ever done. No history of the world records an instance of more heroic courage."

We must hasten over the few remaining months of Hodson's brilliant career, months crowded with incident and excitement, and with exploits which fill the pages of the despatches of that time. "Captain Hodson's newly raised body of horse rendered excellent service," wrote Colonel Seaton, with whose column Hodson marched from Delhi to Cawnpore; "less it could not do under its distinguished commander, whom I beg particularly to mention to the majorgeneral as having, on every possible occasion, rendered me the most effective service, whether in gaining information, reconnoitring the country, or leading his regiment."

Even the Indian Mutiny, with its many tales of hairbreadth escapes and reckless daring, can show no other story of more thrilling interest than that of Hodson's ride, with McDowell, from Seaton's camp to the headquarters of Sir Colin Campbell and back, which is described in graphic language by Lieutenant McDowell in Mr George Hodson's memoir of his brother. Seaton's column had reached Mainpuri, while the Commander-in-Chief was believed to be at Gursahaiganj, some

thirty-eight miles farther down the Grand Trunk road. Colonel Seaton was very anxious to communicate with Sir Colin without delay; but the intervening country was known to be infested by parties of the rebels, who had lately been scattered by the column advancing from Delhi, and who constantly watched the road in order to cut off messengers and stragglers. Such an undertaking as to ride from one camp to the other was just to Hodson's liking: he volunteered to make the attempt, and, his offer being accepted, he started with McDowell and seventy-five of his men at 6 A.M. on the 30th December 1857. At Bewar, fourteen miles out, he left fifty of his party, and pressed on with the remaining twentyfive a further fourteen miles to a village named Chibaramow. Here, having, as he thought, only ten more miles to cover, Hodson left the rest of his men, and went forward alone with McDowell to Gursahaiganj, which proved to be another fourteen-mile stage. But on arrival there the two officers found that the Commander-inChief was still at Miran - kiSarai, fifteen miles off, while at the same time the danger of their position was emphasised by the news that a considerable body of rebels was within two miles of their present haltingplace. However, having come so far, return was not to be thought of until their mission was accomplished, and they again hurried forward, the chief's camp being at length reached at 4 P.M. Here their

appearance created the greatest surprise, and Sir Colin Campbell was warm in his appreciation of their exploit. But the work was only half done, and after refreshing themselves and their horses with much-needed food and a four hours' halt, they started at eight in the evening on their return ride of fiftyseven miles to rejoin Seaton's column. The moon was bright, and the officers had already covered most of the twenty-nine miles to Chibaramow, when they were stopped by a beggar, to whom Hodson had thrown alms in the morning, with the alarming news that the twentyfive men left in the village had been attacked by the enemy, who were even now in possession of the place, watching for Hodson's return. The situation was a desperate one; but Hodson was not long in deciding to push on at all hazards, so, taking their friendly informant as a guide, they continued their dangerous ride :

"Taking our horses off the hard road on to the side where it was soft, could be less distinctly heard, we so that the noise of their footfalls went silently on our way, anxiously listening for every sound that fell upon our ears, and straining our sight to see if, behind the dark trees dotted along the road, we could discern the dark forms of the enemy waiting in ambush to seize us. It was indeed an anxious time. We to Chibaramow.

proceeded close

There they are,' said our guide in a whisper, pointing to a garden in a clump of trees to our right front. Distinctly we heard a faint hum in the distance-whether it was the enemy, or whether our imagination conjured up the sound, I know not. We slowly and silently passed through the village, in the main

street of which we saw the dead body of one of our men lying stark and stiff and ghastly in the moonlight; and on emerging from the other side, dismissed our faithful guide with directions to come to our camp, and then, putting spurs to our horses, we galloped for our dear life to Bewar." 1

Bewar was reached at 2 A.M.; there a strong party of the regiment was awaiting them, and there they slept till morning, when Seaton's column

marched in. The total dis

tance covered in the twenty hours was close on a hundred miles, out of which both officers rode seventy-two miles on one horse each, Hodson riding his favourite dun Arab, Rufus.

Four weeks after this exploit came the action of Shumshabad, when a force of all arms under Brigadier-General Adrian Hope had a very sharp fight with a considerable body of the enemy. The hardest work on this, as on many such occasions, fell to the cavalry, and Hodson's Horse lost several killed and wounded.

"They were very superior in numbers," wrote Hodson, "and individually so, as horsemen and swordsmen; but we managed to whop them all the same, and drive them clean off the field." And he adds: "It was the

hardest thing of the kind in which I was ever engaged. . . . I got a cut which laid open my thumb, from a fellow after my sword was through him; and about half-an-hour later this caused me to get a second severe cut, which divided the muscles of the right arm and put me hors de combat; my grip on my sword

handle was weakened, and a demon on foot succeeded in striking down my guard, or rather his tular glanced off my guard on to my arm.'

But a worse disaster even than Hodson's wound was the death on this day of Charles McDowell.

"The very first shot," writes an officer who was present, "plumped into the middle of the group [of staff officers, &c.], striking poor McDowell just under the right knee, smashing horse. We saw his horse rear up his leg, and passing through his and fall back, McDowell crying out, 'Doctor, doctor!'"

And again, after the mêlée :

McDowell lying desperately wounded; "When we returned we found poor he was so weak from the frightful shock, the shot having completely shattered his leg, that the doctors found he could not stand the necessary amputation, and he died in the most delightful companion, always course of the evening. He was a bright and gay, full of life, with very considerable ability, a good writer, and a brave soldier."

Well might Hodson write : "My usual fortune deserted me on the 27th at Shumshabad." The first fight of 1858 had opened the year with ill omen for Hodson's Horse.

Little remains to be told. Hodson's wound kept him idle for some weeks, and he was not again engaged until the final attack by Sir Colin Campbell's force on Lucknow. Meanwhile, on the 11th December, he had been gazetted to be captain, and on the 10th March, two days before his death, the mail from England brought him a brevet majority.

After one or two sharp fights in the earlier stages of the advance against Lucknow, Hodson's Horse was, on the 11th March, ordered to send a wing

and it has been amply proved that the suggestion that his object was to loot is as false as it is malicious. The more general charge of habitual looting is also sufficiently met by the fact that his effects, after his death, only realised the sum of £170. "I was appointed President of his Committee of Adjustment," writes Sir Charles Gough, "and the inventory of his effects bears witness to the fact that he had no loot of any kind in his possession."

Of Hodson's personal appearance we can judge only by description. A tinted pencil drawing, taken before he left England, shows indeed the shape of his face, the clean-cut features and strong chin, and his characteristic colouring, pale yellow hair, steel-blue eyes and fresh complexion; but, like most portraits of the kind, it is insipid, and reveals little of the strong character which his face must have displayed. The only other likeness extant is a faded, ill-taken photograph, of which the date must have been very shortly before his death. In it we can trace the features of the boy in the pencil drawing; but the fair hair has grown thin on the temples, the firm mouth is almost hidden by a very long moustache, and the pale- grey eyes look out with a sternness engendered by twelve years of danger and hard work. It is, as it were, a ghost of what we know Hodson must have been; but badly taken, and without any attempt at posing or artistic effect, it in no way suggests the lithe athletic figure or the bright mobile

face of the leader of Hodson's Horse.

But

Of his character some idea will have been obtained from the perusal of the foregoing pages. Sir Charles Gough writes of him: "I admired him for his gallantry in leading, his abounding energy, activity, and resource in difficulties, his coolness in danger, and his genial, cheerful, and kindly disposition." His faults we have already seen; they were enumerated years before his death by his best friend, Henry Lawrence. it was to his good points, just those so well set forth by his old subaltern, that he owed the lifelong friendship of such men as Robert Napier, Robert Montgomery, and Thomas Seaton; and to these characteristics too it was that he owed the love and the admiration of his men. As in the Corps of Guides, so in his own regiment of horse he was the object not only of respect but of veneration. Το this day the few remaining of those who served under him, and the sons of those who served under him, speak of him by the title given him by the old king of Delhi Hodson Sahib Bahadur. His corps of horse has long since been split up into the 9th and 10th Regiments of Bengal Lancers, and the latter has been honoured by receiving the title of Duke of Cambridge's Own; but no matter how they may be officially known, or what titles may be given them, the name which they never forget and which they most delight to honour is that of Hodson's Horse.