as we
were falling in for muster-parade, sending round-shot and shell right
through our tents. One shrapnel shell burst right in the centre of
Captain Cornwall's company severely wounding the captain,
Colour-Sergeant M'Intyre, and five men, but not killing any one.

Captain Cornwall was the oldest officer in the regiment, even an older
soldier than Colonel Leith-Hay who had then commanded it for over three
years, and for long he had been named by the men "Old Daddy Cornwall."
He was poor, and had been unable to purchase promotion, and in
consequence was still a captain with over thirty-five years' service.
The bursting of the shell right over his head stunned the old gentleman,
and a bullet from it went through his shoulder breaking his collar-bone
and cutting a deep furrow down his back. The old man was rather stout
and very short-sighted; the shock of the fall stunned him for some time,
and before he regained his senses Dr. Munro had cut the bullet out of
his back and bandaged up his wound as well as possible. Daddy came to
himself just as the men were lifting him into a _dooly_. Seeing Dr.
Munro standing by with the bullet in his hand, about to present it to
him as a memento of Cawnpore, Daddy gasped out, "Munro, is my wound
dangerous?" "No, Cornwall," was the answer, "not if you don't excite
yourself into a fever; you will get over it all right." The next
question put was, "Is the road clear to Allahabad?" To which Munro
replied that it was, and that he hoped to have all the sick and wounded
sent down country within a day or two. "Then by----" said Daddy, with
considerable emphasis, "I'm off." The poor old fellow had through long
disappointment become like our soldiers in Flanders,--he sometimes
swore; but considering how promotion had passed over him, that was
perhaps excusable. All this occupied far less time than it takes to
write it, and I may as well here finish the history of Daddy Cornwall
before I leave him. He went home in the same vessel as a rich widow,
whom he married on arrival in Dublin, his native place, the corporation
of which presented him with a valuable sword and the freedom of the
city. The death of Brigadier-General Hope in the following April gave
Captain Cornwall his majority without purchase, and he returned to India
in the end of 1859 to command the regiment for about nine months,
retiring from the army in 1860, when we lay at Rawul Pindee.

But I must return to my story. Being shelled out