The Relief of the Lucknow garrison was now accomplished—­a grand achievement indeed, of which any Commander might well be proud, carried out as it had been in every particular as originally planned, thus demonstrating with what care each detail had been thought out, and how admirably movement after movement had been executed.

November the 23rd was spent in arranging for the march to Cawnpore, and in organizing the division which was to be left in position, under Outram, in and about the Alambagh; it was to be strong enough to hold its own, and to keep open communication with Head-Quarters.

[Illustration:  PLAN TO ILLUSTRATE THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW, IN 1857]

My time was chiefly occupied in assisting in the distribution of transport, and in carrying out Hope Grant’s directions as to the order in which the troops were to march.  Round the Dilkusha the scene of confusion was bewildering in the extreme; women, children, sick and wounded men, elephants, camels, bullocks and bullock-carts, grass-cutters’ ponies, and doolies with their innumerable bearers, all crowded together.  To marshal these incongruous elements and get them started seemed at first to be an almost hopeless task.  At last the families were got off in two bodies, each under a married officer whose wife was of the party, and through whom all possible arrangements for their comfort were to be made, and their place on the line of march, position in camp, etc., determined.

In the afternoon the force was gratified by the issue of a General Order by the Commander-in-Chief thanking the troops for the manner in which the very difficult and harassing service of the Relief had been performed.  Alluding to the withdrawal, he said it was a model of discipline and exactitude, the result of which was that the rebels were completely thrown off their guard, and the retirement had been successfully carried out in the face of 50,000 of the enemy along a most inconveniently narrow and tortuous lane—­the only line of retreat open.

The following morning Hope Grant’s division marched to the Alambagh.  On arrival there, our transport was sent back for Outram’s division, which joined us the morning after, bringing with it General Havelock’s dead body.  He had died the previous day—­’a martyr to duty,’ as the Commander-in-Chief expressed it in his General Order.  The brave old soldier, who had served with distinction in four campaigns before the Mutiny—­Burma, Afghanistan, Gwalior, and the Sutlej—­was buried inside the Alambagh enclosure, respected and honoured by the whole army, but more especially by those who had shared in his noble efforts to rescue the Lucknow garrison.

A wash and change of clothes, in which we were now able to indulge, were much-appreciated luxuries.  From the time we had left the Alambagh every officer and man had been on duty without cessation, and slept, if they slept at all, on the spot where the close of day found them fighting.