The last man and gun had been sent by Sir John Lawrence from the Punjaub. Not a sword or bayonet had as yet reached them from England, although thousands were on the way. It was not the first time, however, that our highest martial interests had been safely left in the hands of a Norfolk man. Britons will for ages to come be justly proud of the name of Wilson--the name of a respected Norfolk family. The whole force that Sir Archdale Wilson had now under his command amounted to 8748. It was do or die. If Delhi was not taken, and that at once, the whole of India would have to be re-conquered. The Punjaub was tottering; and, unless we could prove to Sikhs, Ghoorkas, Punjaubees, and Afghans, that we were the descendants of their conquerors, they would turn their arms against us. Thus it was time for Britons to "strike home." The enemy was gaining strength and confidence every day, whilst our ranks were being rapidly thinned by cholera, sunstroke, and the continual attacks of the Mutineers. But on the morning of the 14th September, 1857, the storming columns of attack were formed up, and our batteries thundered forth the summons to the murderers of defenceless women, whilst the sword of justice was just about to plunge itself into their cowardly hearts. After a short address from their noble leader the columns dashed forward--all being left to the bayonet, as it had often been before--and in our men went, shoulder to shoulder. The enemy was ready, and fought like demons, for they knew well that they were fighting with halters around their necks. But the bloodthirsty brutes could not withstand British pluck. In some cases, when they found that they had to confront our men, they fought with desperation; in other cases they threw down their arms, and had the audacity to beg for mercy! A thrust of the bayonet was the immediate and only answer. But as a rule the enemy fought with desperation from house to house, and had to be hunted out of their hiding-places with cold steel. For seven days and nights this unequal contest lasted--a handful of men against a host,--but on the 20th our proud old flag was once more floating over the whole of Delhi--this guilty city was again in our hands. But what a scene presented itself! We had lost some of the best blood of Britain. Poor Nicholson was no more, and out of our small force we had lost, from the 14th to the 20th, 64 officers and 1680 non-commissioned officers and men. The following return will be of interest. It shows the strength, with the number of the killed and wounded of the Delhi field force up to the final capture of the city by Sir Archdale Wilson, Bart., K.C.B. 20th September, 1857:--