That afternoon, as there was nothing particular for the Cavalry to do, the General, Anson, and I rode across the river to see how matters were progressing on the left of the attack.  We reached the Head-Quarters camp just as Sir Colin was about to receive a visit of ceremony from the Nepalese General, the famous Jung Bahadur.  Our old Chief, in honour of the occasion, had doffed his usual workman-like costume, and wore General’s full-dress uniform, but he was quite thrown into the shade by the splendour of the Gurkha Prince, who was most gorgeously attired, with magnificent jewels in his turban, round his neck, and on his coat.

I looked at Jung Bahadur with no small interest, for his deeds of daring had made him conspicuous amongst probably the bravest race of men in the world, and the fact that a high-born Hindu, such as he was, should, fifty years ago, have so far risen superior to caste prejudice as to cross the sea and visit England, proved him to be a man of unusually strong and independent mind.  He was about five feet eight inches high—­tall for a Gurkha—­with a well-knit, wiry figure, a keen, dauntless eye, and a firm, determined mouth—­in every respect a typical, well-bred Nepalese.  The interview did not last long, for Sir Colin disliked ceremonial, and, shortly after the Nepalese Prince had taken his seat, news was brought in that the assault on the Begum Kothi had been successfully completed, upon which Sir Colin made the necessity for attending to business an excuse for taking leave of his distinguished visitor, and the interview came to an end.

I then obtained leave to go to the scene of the recent fight, and, galloping across the canal by the bridge near Banks’s house, soon found myself at the Begum Kothi.  There I was obliged to dismount, for even on foot it was a difficult matter to scramble over the breach.  The place was most formidable, and it was a marvel that it had been taken with comparatively so little loss on our side.  The bodies of a number of Highlanders and Punjabis were lying about, and a good many wounded men were being attended to, but our casualties were nothing in proportion to those of the enemy, 600 or 700 of whom were buried the next day in the ditch they had themselves dug for their own protection.  A very determined stand had been made by the sepoys when they found there was no chance of getting away.  There were many tales of hair-breadth escapes and desperate struggles, and on all sides I hoard laments that Hodson should have been one of those dangerously, if not mortally, wounded in the strife.  Hodson had been carried to Banks’s house, and to the inquiry I made on my way back to camp, as to his condition, the answer was, ‘Little, if any, hope.’

A great stride in the advance had been made on this day.  Outram had accomplished all that was expected of him, and he was now busy constructing additional batteries for the bombardment of the Kaisarbagh; while Lugard,[11] from his newly-acquired position at the Begum Kothi, was also able to bring fire to bear upon that doomed palace.