I went with many others the next day to see the King; the old man looked most wretched, and as he evidently disliked intensely being stared at by Europeans, I quickly took my departure.  On my way back I was rather startled to see the three lifeless bodies of the King’s two sons and grandson lying exposed on the stone platform in front of the Kotwali.  On enquiry I learnt that Hodson had gone a second time to Humayun’s tomb that morning with the object of capturing these Princes, and on the way back to Delhi had shot them with his own hand—­an act which, whether necessary or not, has undoubtedly cast a blot on his reputation.  His own explanation of the circumstance was that he feared they would be rescued by the mob, who could easily have overpowered his small escort of 100 sowars, and it certainly would have been a misfortune had these men escaped.  At the time a thirst for revenge on account of the atrocities committed within the walls of Delhi was so great that the shooting of the Princes seemed to the excited feelings of the army but an act of justice; and there were some men, whose opinions were entitled to the greatest respect, who considered the safety of the British force would have been endangered by the escape of the representatives of the house of Taimur, and that for this reason Hodson’s act was justified.

My own feeling on the subject is one of sorrow that such a brilliant soldier should have laid himself open to so much adverse criticism.  Moreover, I do not think that, under any circumstances, he should have done the deed himself, or ordered it to be done in that summary manner, unless there had been evident signs of an attempt at a rescue.

But it must be understood that there was no breach of faith on Hodson’s part, for he steadily refused to give any promise to the Princes that their lives should be spared; he did, however, undoubtedly by this act give colour to the accusations of blood-thirstiness which his detractors were not slow to make.

The news that we had occupied the palace, and were in complete possession of the city of Delhi, consoled Nicholson on his deathbed.  From the first there was little hope that this valuable life could be saved.  He was taken into hospital in a fainting condition from internal hemorrhage, and he endured excruciating agony; but, wrote General Chamberlain, ’throughout those nine days of suffering he bore himself nobly; not a lament or sigh ever passed his lips.’  His every thought was given to his country, and to the last he materially aided the military authorities by his clear-sighted, sound, and reliable advice.  His intellect remained unclouded to the end.  With his latest breath he sent messages of tender farewell to his mother, hoping she would be patient under his loss, and to his oldest and dearest friend, Herbert Edwardes.  After his death some frontier Chiefs and Native officers of the Multani Horse were permitted to see him, and I was told that it was touching beyond expression to see these strong men shed tears as they looked on all that was left of the leader they so loved and honoured.