On September 19 Havelock crossed the Ganges, by this time bridged, with a force numbering 3000 men of all arms. The Madras Fusileers, the 5 th Fusileers, the 84th, and two companies of the 64th, under Neill, formed the first brigade. The second brigade, under Colonel Hamilton, consisted of the 78th Highlanders, the 90th, and Brasyer’s Sikhs. The artillery consisted of three batteries, under Maude, Olpherts, and Eyre respectively; and no guns that ever burned powder did more gallant and desperate service than these. The pieces, indeed, might well have been stored, as heroic relics, in some great museum. The cavalry was made up of 109 volunteers and 59 native horsemen, under Barrow. The rain fell as though another Noachian deluge was imminent. The rice-fields on either side of the road were either lakes or quagmires. The column, however, pushed on with eager and cheerful, if wet-footed, courage. The Sepoys held the village of Mungulwagh strongly. Havelock smote them in front with his artillery, turned their flank with his infantry, marching—or rather splashing—through the swamps, and when the Sepoys had been, in this manner, hustled out of the town, he launched his little squadron of cavalry upon them. Outram rode among the troopers armed with nothing but a gold-mounted cane, with which he thumped the heads and shoulders of the flying enemy. Here some mutineers, stained with special crimes, fell into Havelock’s hands, and Maude, in his “Memories of the Mutiny,” tells how Havelock asked him “if he knew how to blow a man from a gun.” This art does not form part of the curriculum at Woolwich, but Maude could only touch his cap and say he “would try.” Here is a grim picture of the doings of that stern time:—