instead of being closed in 1859, would have probably gone on two years longer. Had all Sir Hugh Rose's previous service been passed in India, had he made the country and the character of its inhabitants his study for years, he could not have shown greater knowledge of the most effective method of dealing with the rebellion. With a small but well-appointed force, a tithe of that with which Lord Clyde confronted an enemy scarcely less formidable, he marched in one career of conquest from the Western Presidency right up to Kálpi on the Jumna, captured fortresses and walled towns, driving the enemy before him, fighting battles against enormous odds with one hand, while, with the other, he kept open his communications, or, as at Jhánsí, maintained a siege. He understood the immense importance in Asiatic warfare of keeping the ball rolling. He allowed the enemy no breathing time. The consequence was that, formidable as they were in numbers, in character, in desperation, in resources, in position, and in the sympathy of the population, they disappeared before the British troops as a row of houses built up with a pack of cards falls at the touch of the hand. Such an unchecked career of conquest resembles that of the Israelitish invaders of Palestine. It was an achievement scarcely less glorious than the Retreat of the Ten Thousand.'
Having made over the command of the Central India Field Force to Brigadier-General Napier, Sir Hugh Rose bade farewell to his troops and set out on June 29, 1858, to rejoin his command at Poona, where
