could sustain, Mr. Colvin's gentleness, forbearance, patience, which I daily witnessed, were little appreciated by those who hailed down upon him their pettiness, ill-nature, and ignorance. I can only say that there are letters among his papers to which my reply would have been a file of soldiers or policemen to put the writers under keeping. Residing out of the vortex of party clamour, I did not know at the time its full extent and rancour.'
Similar scenes were occurring at Lucknow. 'In spite of Sir Henry's well-known wisdom and sagacity,' writes his biographer[1], 'the extremity of the crisis caused many people to forget themselves; and from many persons of whose obedience and support he might have had reasonable expectation, he received remonstrances against his line of policy.' On June 12 Sir Henry Lawrence wrote to Mr. Colvin that one of his principal officers had been almost insubordinately urgent on him to disband certain native troops. The fact is that in a great crisis, in which authority is paralysed and fresh incidents are hourly brought to notice, the most self-assertive, the alarmist, and the excitable secure a brief pre-eminence. Mr. Colvin met the storm in silence; with 'gentleness, forbearance, patience.' He had his way, and he let others have their say. He showed, because he felt, great indulgence to men who believed that his line of action was endangering the lives of their wives and children.
- ↑ Life of Sir H. Laurence, ii. 348.
The rumours which he repeats regarding Mr. Colvin's health at that time, like much in his narrative, were idle gossip. See p. 196 of this Memoir.
