dency itself. One of these, the very first day of the siege, caused to the assailed a calamity which was mourned wherever the English language is spoken.
Sir Henry Lawrence had occupied in the Residency a room convenient for noticing the movements of the enemy, but much exposed to their fire. Seated in this room, the day after the fight at Chinhat, conversing with his Secretary, Mr Couper, he was startled by the bursting within the room of an eight-inch shell. No harm followed the explosion, but the danger to the most precious life in the garrison made a deep impression on his staff, and Sir Henry at length agreed to remove to a less exposed room on the morrow. The following morning, the 2d, he went out early to arrange the disposition of the force which had come in from the Machchí Bhawan. He returned, tired, about eight o'clock, and lay on his bed whilst he transacted business with his Adjutant-General, Captain Wilson. Lying near him was his nephew, George Lawrence. Suddenly there came a sheet of flame, a terrific report and a shock, followed by intense darkness. It was a shell from the howitzer which had been fired in the morning. It left George Lawrence, as it burst, unscathed, it tore off the shirt from the back of Captain Wilson, and it mortally wounded Sir Henry Lawrence. He lingered in extreme agony to the morning of the 4th, and then died.
The death of this great man was felt by the garrison as a loss only not irreparable, because they inherited the splendid courage which had animated him from the first hour of the insurrection to the moment when he was called away. They felt, one and all, that they could best testify their respect for his memory by carrying out their stern defence on the lines he had laid down. He was succeeded, as chief commissioner, by Major Banks, an officer of rare merit who had been his friend and con-
