Part 2 — CHAPTER IV. (continued 2)

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.

February 21st.—As far as I can learn, we (i.e., my Horse) shall have but little to do with the actual capture or assault of Lucknow, and I fancy our duty will be protecting the flanks and rear of the army from incursions of the enemy's cavalry, &c. General Lugard came out this morning to take the command. I hope Napier will soon follow. I am very anxious to get on and get the affair over.

February 22d.—There is not a particle of news of any kind. I had an attack of fever last night, but it is gone this morning, and I am all right again; the wound on my arm is quite closed, and the last bandage discarded; the thumb is still very stiff, and the joint much enlarged. My wounds have healed with unprecedented rapidity; and I cannot be sufficiently grateful that I am so soon enabled to return to my duty. Dear Douglas Seaton has been very ill again, and unable to leave England, as he intended, poor fellow. I believe half his illness is caused by fretting at being away from his regiment now it is in the field; but he never could have stood the trial of those months before Delhi. The Commander-in-Chief tells me that, despairing of getting the list of recommendations for Delhi from India, the Duke of Cambridge is making out a list himself from the despatches, to be corrected hereafter if any omissions occur. The next mail may, therefore, make me a Major, as I was mentioned even in Wilson's despatches. God grant I may be able to get home; that is my great desire now.

February 23d.—It is midnight, and we march for Alumbagh at 4 a. m.; so I write a line at once to say I am doing well, and will send a telegram if anything occurs, which I do not expect yet. There has been a big fight, within a few miles of us, between the force under General Hope Grant and the rebels, and there was a bigger on Sunday at Lucknow with Sir James Outram's force. I have got hold of a strip of newspaper this morning, with Brigadier Hope's Shumshabad despatch, in which I figure so prominently that I am inclined to indorse it "Hope told a flattering tale," and send it home to the dear girls. The convoy arrived this morning (i.e., the ladies, &c.) from Agra, so I hope the Chief will move soon. I was out all the morning with General Lugard, and was surprised to find how hot the weather is getting (in the sun) even here; but I am quite well—quite.

In a letter of this date to the Chaplain of the Lawrence Asylum, he says:—

... I have only to add that in gratitude for the many and unspeakable mercies which I have received during the past year, and also as a token of most affectionate regret for Sir H. Lawrence, I shall thank you to note the increase of my subscription to the asylum to 100 rupees per annum.