Fortunately for the continuance of our rule in India, Wilson had about him men who understood, as he was unable to do, the impossibility of our remaining any longer as we were.  They knew that Delhi must either be taken or the army before it withdrawn.  The man to whom the Commander first looked for counsel under these conditions—­ Baird-Smith, of the Bengal Engineers—­proved himself worthy of the high and responsible position in which he was placed.  He too was ill.  Naturally of a delicate constitution, the climate and exposure had told upon him severely, and the diseases from which he was suffering were aggravated by a wound he had received soon after his arrival in camp.  He fully appreciated the tremendous risks which an assault involved, but, in his opinion, they were less than were those of delay.  Whether convinced or not by his Chief Engineer’s arguments, Wilson accepted his advice and directed him to prepare a plan of attack.

Baird-Smith was strongly supported by Nicholson, Chamberlain, Daly, Norman, and Alex.  Taylor.  They were one and all in communication with the authorities in the Punjab, and they knew that if ’Delhi were not taken, and that speedily, there would be a struggle not only for European dominion, but even for European existence within the Punjab itself.’[1]

Our position in that province was, indeed, most critical.  An attempted conspiracy of Mahomedan tribes in the Murree Hills, and an insurrection in the Gogaira district, had occurred.  Both these affairs were simply attempts to throw off the British yoke, made in the belief that our last hour was come.  The feeling that prompted them was not confined to the Mahomedans; amongst all classes and races in the Punjab a spirit of restlessness was on the increase; even the most loyally disposed were speculating on the chances of our being able to hold our own, and doubting the advisability of adhering to our cause.  On the part of the Sikhs of the Manjha[2] there was an unwillingness to enlist, and no good recruits of this class could be obtained until after Delhi had fallen.

It was under these critical circumstances that a council of war was convened to decide definitely whether the assault should take place or not.

Nicholson was not a man of many intimacies, but as his staff officer I had been fortunate enough to gain his friendship.  I was constantly with him, and on this occasion I was sitting in his tent before he set out to attend the council.  He had been talking to me in confidential terms of personal matters, and ended by telling me of his intention to take a very unusual step should the council fail to arrive at any fixed determination regarding the assault.  ‘Delhi must be taken,’ he said, ’and it is absolutely essential that this should be done at once; and if Wilson hesitates longer, I intend to propose at to-day’s meeting that he should be superseded.’  I was greatly startled, and ventured to remark that, as Chamberlain was hors de combat from his