among those who think that to lead on a wing of a British army against the enemies of this country can derogate from the dignity of no man.'
The same day, the 29th Queen's, the 1st Bengal Europeans, and two Native regiments were brought up on commissariat-elephants, which had been despatched from the camp at Múdkí. Prince Waldemar of Prussia, with his aides-de-camp Counts Grueben and Oriolla, had previously joined the army in time for the battle. Their charming manners and gallant bearing endeared them to all with whom they came in contact. At Firozsháh they were under a very heavy fire; and it was not until matters had become critical that they were specially ordered to the rear, as the Governor-General declined to be responsible for their safety.
Everything being ready by midnight on the 20th December, another night march took place. All were aware that a general action was again imminent; one of the Governor-General's staff had even predicted that every member of it would be hit, and little knew at the time that his forebodings were about to be so nearly realised. The welcome dawn of day at last disclosed the country which was about to be the scene of another sanguinary encounter. A broad expanse of level plain, dotted here and there with low jungle, was no doubt generally favourable for extended operations; but the lines of the Sikh camp had been so skilfully chosen that our troops were to a certain extent impeded in the advance by the
