The route chosen was by way of the Secunderabagh, “Alexander’s garden,” where the first severe skirmish took place, and here some 2000 of the enemy perished by the bayonet alone. Small wonder that with the recent remembrance of “Cawnpore,” no quarter was asked or given. It was too late for mercy. The fighting continued from building to building and from garden to garden, till on the 17th, Outram and Havelock met Sir Colin Campbell, who had begun his soldier’s career far back in the Peninsular days, when he carried the colours of the 9th Foot at Corunna, outside the battered walls so long and so gallantly held. The cost to the relieving force had been 467 officers and men killed and wounded. Even now it was impossible to remain and continue the contest. Occupying the Alumbagh with a brigade under Outram, the Lucknow garrison evacuated the blood-stained ruins of the Residency. There too Havelock died. “The retreat was admirably executed, and was a perfect lesson in such combinations. Each exterior line came gradually retiring through its supports, till at length nothing remained but the last line of infantry and guns, with which I remained myself, to crush the enemy, had he dared to follow up the pickets. The only line of retreat lay through a long and tortuous lane, and all these precautions were absolutely necessary to ensure the safety of the force.” An instance of the fury which characterised the fighting at the Secunderabagh is admirably told in Forbes Mitchell’s _Reminiscences of the Great Mutiny_. The hero of the story, around whose private history there was evidently more romance than usually falls to most men, bore the name of Quaker Wallace, the final name being fictitious, the first a nickname; and when the signal for the assault was given, he “went into the Secunderabagh like one of the furies, plainly seeking death, but not meeting it, and quoting the 116th Psalm, Scotch version, in metre, beginning at the first verse-- ‘I love the Lord, because my voice And prayers He did hear. I, while I live, will call on Him, Who bow’d me to His ear.’ And thus he plunged into the Secunderabagh, quoting the next verse at every shot fired from his rifle and at each thrust given by his bayonet-- ‘I’ll of salvation take the cup, On God’s name will I call: I’ll pay my vows now to the Lord Before His people all.’ “It was generally reported in the company that Quaker Wallace, single-handed, killed twenty men;” but be that as it may, the quaint religious fervour of this gallant soldier of the 93rd is a quaint survival of the same stern fanaticism of the Cameronians who fought and suffered in many a skirmish besides Bothwell Brig.