er was the
lion-hearted, ever-cheerful Daly; and amongst the former the first of
the great soldier-name of Battye to die a soldier's death. And as he
died in that great agony his face lit up, and calm and smooth came the
grand old Roman verse:

Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori.

The story of the Guides before Delhi is the story of all that gallant
band who through the blazing heat, 'midst sickness and disease, fought
the good fight right through the summer of 1857, and with them shared in
the crowning glory of the final assault and capture of the capital of
the Great Mogul. Hence after a few months' harrying and chasing of rebel
bands, with sadly diminished numbers, but still stout of heart, the
order came for the Guides to return to their home on the distant
frontier.

In the midst of so much treachery, such dastardly deeds of murder and
rapine, the bright light of unwavering fidelity, sealed and confirmed by
surpassing gallantry in the field, so appealed to the hearts of the
storm-pressed Englishmen, that the Guides received little short of an
ovation when they returned to Peshawur. By order of Major-General Sir
Sidney Cotton the whole of the garrison was paraded to receive the
shattered remnants of that war-worn corps. On their approach a royal
salute was fired by the artillery, and cavalry and infantry came to the
salute while the massed bands played. The General then made a most
eloquent and affecting address, welcoming the corps back to the
frontier, and expressing the pride and honour felt by all in being
associated with men whose deeds of daring had earned for themselves and
their noble profession undying fame. They had taken six hundred men to
Delhi and their casualties had reached three hundred and fifty. During
the siege the whole strength in British officers had been renewed four
times, and all these had been killed or wounded. One officer indeed had
been wounded six times and yet survived, another four times, and others
at least twice.

After his stirring speech, the General called for three cheers for the
little band of ragged and war-worn heroes, who stood before them. A _feu
de joie_ accompanied by a salute of twenty-one guns was then fired, and
after this the Guides, taking the place of honour at the head of the
line, marched past the flag.

CHAPTER VII

TWENTY YEARS OF MINOR WARS

Short breathing space, and little of the rest of peace awaited the
Guides on their retu