t him which to my mind was the result of his
having passed so much of his life amongst the wild and lawless
tribesmen, with whom his authority was supreme. Intercourse with
this man amongst men made me more eager than ever to remain on the
frontier, and I was seized with ambition to follow in his footsteps.
Had I never seen Nicholson again, I might have thought that the
feelings with which he inspired me were to some extent the result of
my imagination, excited by the astonishing stories I had heard of his
power and influence; my admiration, however, for him was immeasurably
strengthened when, a few weeks later, I served as his staff officer,
and had opportunities of observing more closely his splendid soldierly
qualities and the workings of his grand, simple mind.

[Illustration: BRIGADIER-GENERAL JOHN NICHOLSON, C.B.

_From a painting by J.R. Dicksee, in the possession of the Reverend
Canon Seymour._]

It was the end of April when I returned to Peshawar from Cherat, and
rapidly getting hot. On the strength of being a D.A.Q.M.G., I had
moved into a better house than I had hitherto been able to afford,
which I shared with Lieutenant Hovenden of the Engineers. We were
just settling down and making ourselves comfortable for the long hot
weather, when all our plans were upset by the breaking out of the
Mutiny.

[Footnote 1: See 'Memorials of the Life and Letters of Major-General
Sir Herbert Edwardes.']

[Footnote 2: 'Memorials of Major-General Sir Herbert Edwardes.']

[Footnote 3: _Ibid._]

CHAPTER VI.
1857

First tidings of the mutiny--Prompt action at Peshawar
--A bold policy--The Movable Column--An annoying occurrence
--I leave Peshawar

The first threatenings of coming trouble were heard in the early part
of 1857. During the months of February, March, and April, rumours
reached us at Peshawar of mysterious _chupattis_ (unleavened cakes)
being sent about the country with the object, it was alleged, of
preparing the Natives for some forthcoming event. There was also an
evident feeling of unrest and dissatisfaction in the minds of the
sepoys. We heard that the 19th Native Infantry at Berhampur, a
military station about 100 miles from Calcutta, had broken open the
bells-of-arms,[1] and forcibly taken possession of their muskets and
ammunition; that a sepoy named Mangal Pandy,[2] belonging to the 34th
Native Infantry at Barrackpore, had attacked and severely wounded
the Adjutant and Sergeant-