a rain of fire, the moment General Havelock was within the gates, amid the acclamations and tears of the relieved garrison, his first words had been, turning to the aide-de-camp at his side: "Look to the boy, he is wounded." The father had been forced to see his son fall without himself turning an instant from his duty, but, the work accomplished, the father's heart at once remembered his wounded child, whose suffering saddened the victory. On the 24th of November General Havelock died. "For more than forty years," he said, "I have so ruled my life that, when death came, I might face it without fear."

"On the 25th," says Mr. Brock, his biographer, "a grave was prepared for his remains in the Alumbagh, and Sir Colin Campbell with his surrounding comrades, who had followed him. through so many vicissitudes, buried him out of sight, in sure and certain hope of the resurrection and eternal life."

The rebels at Lucknow were held in check by General Outram while Sir Colin Campbell returned to Cawnpore. There he found the English troops besieged by the rebels. As soon as the general-in-chief had quitted the town, one of Nana Sahib's lieutenants, Tantia Topee, a Mahratta Brahmin, endowed with rare military talent, had advanced upon Cawnpore at the head of a large hostile force. General Windham, who was left in command at Cawnpore had gone out against them, but being defeated, had been compelled to retreat into his intrenchments within the city while the enemy occupied Cawnpore. Sir Colin Campbell's arrival was most opportune; he was for a few days obliged to occupy himself in securing passage for the huge convoy from Lucknow to Allahabad, but as soon as he was free from these encumbrances, he at once made a sharp and prompt attack upon the rebels, defeating them with great loss. Thirty-seven guns were taken, the rebel force scattered in the most demoralized condition, and Tantia Topee made his escape. In April, 1859, he at last fell

into the hands of the English, when he was tried for his share in the Cawnpore massacre, and hanged.

In March, 1858, Lucknow was finally completely subdued. For many months the campaign had now been carried on with a consummate skill which had not been possible amid the terror and difficulty of the first period. Strong reinforcements had also been sent out from England. The losses of the English had been numerically inconsiderable, those of the rebels were everywhere enormous. Among the officers who died at this time in India, Captain Sir William Peel, son of the great statesman, was one of the most lamented. He made part of Sir Colin Campbell's relieving army at the head of a sailor brigade, and conducted himself "with extraordinary gallantry," says Sir Colin Campbell.

The attack upon Lucknow was directed by Sir Colin Campbell in person. Sir James Outram was also there. On the 4th of February, the siege began in form; Lucknow was at this time defended by about one hundred and thirty thousand men, regulars and irregulars; the English army did not exceed twenty-five thousand men. On the 11th, some of the most superb palaces of Lucknow were stormed, the Imambarra, the Kaiserbagh, and the Begum's Kothie. Mr. Russell, the Times correspondent, writes of the sack of these palaces: "It was one of the strangest and most distressing sights that could be seen. The men are wild with fury and lust of goldliterally drunk with plunder. From the broken portals issue soldiers laden with loot, shawls, rich tapestry, gold and silver brocades, caskets of jewels, arms, splendid dresses. Some come out with China vases or mirrors, dash them to pieces on the ground and return to seek more valuable booty. Lying amid the orange-groves are dead or dying Sepoys, and the white statues are reddened with blood. Leaning against a smiling Venus is a British soldier, shot through the neck, gasping, and

at every gasp, bleeding to death. Here and there officers are running to and fro after their men, persuading or threatening in vain."

Far in the heart of Central India the standard of rebellion was held up vigorously to the very last by a woman's hand. When the territory of Jhansi had been annexed by Lord Dalhousie, the English governor had declined to recognize the adopted heir of the late rajah. Upon this the ranee, his wife, had refused to accept a pension from the English government, and as soon as the mutiny broke out in the north-west she eagerly instigated revolt among the native regiments in her city. There were in all but fifty-five Europeans in the city, including women and children; they took refuge in the fort and for a couple of days defended themselves bravely. Finally, the ranee sent word that if they would surrender their lives should be spared, and they should be sent in safety to some other station. The little garrison surrendered, and marching out were received by the soldiery and murdered, men, women, and children alike.

The ranee thus coming into full possession of the town, fortified it strongly in every way, and held it almost undisturbed till late in March, 1858. At this time Sir Hugh Rose, in command of the Central India force, having swept the country round about, arrived before Jhansi and laid siege to the place. Tantia Topee, Nana Sahib's former lieutenant, was co-operating with the ranee, and on the arrival of the British troops he departed for Calpee to organize a relieving force. On the 5th of April, Jhansi was taken. The ranee made her escape, and, joining Tantia Topee, they took the field against Scindia, the prince of Gwalior. Scindia had remained faithful to the English, and the rebel chiefs resolved to dethrone him. Tantia Topee entered Gwalior in disguise, and intrigued so successfully with the leaders of the disaffected in the town, that, in a sortie ventured by Scindia on the 30th of May, his troops deserted him, with the