Twelve years of a soldier's life in India : being extracts from the letters of the late Major W.S.R. Hodson; including a personal narrative of the siege of Delhi and capture of the King and Princes / edited by his brother, George H. Hodson.

  • Hodson, W. S. R. (William Stephen Raikes), 1821-1858.
Date:
1859
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Licence: Public Domain Mark

Credit: Twelve years of a soldier's life in India : being extracts from the letters of the late Major W.S.R. Hodson; including a personal narrative of the siege of Delhi and capture of the King and Princes / edited by his brother, George H. Hodson. Source: Wellcome Collection.

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    ^ if I went to sleep in the saddle, the odds were I fell ‘ off on my nose. ‘ He was the very perfection of a “ free-lance,” ‘ and such an Intelligence officer ! He used to know ‘ what the rebels had for dinner in Delhi. ' In a fight he was glorious. If there was only a ‘ good hard skrimmage he was as happy as a king. ‘ A beautiful swordsman, he never failed to kill his ‘ man; and the way he used to play with the most ^ brave and furious of these rebels was perfect. I ^ fancy I see him now, smiling, laughing, parrying ^ most fearful blows, as calmly as if he were brushing ^ off flies, calling out all the time, “ Why, try again, ' now,” “ What’s that ?” “ Do you call yourself a ‘ swordsman?” &e. ‘The way that in a pursuit he used to manage his hog- ‘ spear was miraculous. It always seemed to me that ‘ he bore a charmed life, and so the enemy thought. ‘ His judgment v'as as great as his courage, and ‘ the heavier the fire or the greater the difficulty, the ‘ more calm and reflecting he became.’ Another (Sir T. Seaton):— ‘ You know that during the whole of that terrible ‘ siefe we were together in the same tent j and it was ‘ to his unremitting care and nursing that in great ‘ measure I owed my life, ‘ It was there that I saw in all their splendour his ‘ noble soldierly qualities, never fatigued, never down- ‘ cast, always cool and calm, with a cheerful counte- ‘ nance, and a word of encouragement for every one. ‘ I used often to say, “ Here, Hodsou, is somebody ‘ else coming for comfort.” ’