cheap virtue of humanity at other people's expense, denounced the 'clemency of Canning' as ill-timed weakness, and boldly advanced the proposition that the suppression of the Mutiny must be left to the unfettered hands of the military authorities. 'They,' it was said, 'must know, not only what is best to be done, but what is the only thing possible under the circumstances.'
Lord Canning, however, was more and more convinced of the necessity of putting a check on the violent temper of his countrymen. 'There is a rabid and indiscriminate vindictiveness abroad,' he wrote to the Queen in September, 'even among those who ought to set a better example. ... Not one man in ten seems to think that the hanging and shooting of 40,000 or 50,000 men can be otherwise than practicable and right.'
Excitement was excusable, for ever since May the horror of the situation had been becoming more intense. When Sir Colin Campbell arrived in August, things were almost at their worst. The little besieging force was clinging grimly to the Delhi ridge, but the standard of rebellion still flaunted us from its walls. Cawnpur had witnessed a disaster of which Englishmen could scarcely bear to speak. The Lucknow garrison was sorely pressed. Havelock was fast-bound at Cawnpur. The line of communication with Upper India was menaced throughout its entire length. At one time it was actually severed, and it seemed as if Behar were lost and the tide of trouble
