When evening came the British had fallen back to their entrenchments, upon which a heavy fire, both of artillery and small arms, was poured. The enemy was in complete possession of the town, and, planting some guns on the bank of the river, tried to destroy the bridge. “The dust of no succouring columns,” says Alison, “could be seen rising from the plains of Oude, and the sullen plunge of round shot into the river by the bridge showed by how frail a link they were bound to the opposite bank, whence only aid could arrive.” Suddenly at this dramatic moment Campbell himself—who had pushed ahead of his column—made his appearance with his staff on the scene. Says Alison:— The clatter of a few horsemen was suddenly heard passing over the bridge and ascending at a rapid pace the road which leads to the fort. As they came close under the ramparts, an old man with grey hair was seen to be riding at their head. One of the soldiers recognised the commander-in-chief; the news spread like wildfire: the men, crowding upon the parapet, sent forth cheer after cheer. The enemy, surprised at the commotion, for a few moments ceased their fire. The old man rode in through the gate. All felt then that the crisis was over—that the Residency saved, would not now be balanced by Cawnpore lost. A characteristic incident marked Campbell’s arrival. A guard of the 82nd held a hastily constructed _tête de pont_ which covered the bridge, and its officer, in answer to Campbell’s inquiry as to how matters stood, replied with undiplomatic bluntness that “the garrison was at its last gasp.” At this announcement the too irascible Sir Colin simply exploded. “He flew at the wretched man,” says Lord Roberts, “as he was sometimes apt to do when greatly put out, rating him soundly, and asking him ‘how he dared to say of Her Majesty’s troops that they were at the last gasp!’” This, in Campbell’s ears, was mere egregious and incredible treason! With the arrival of Campbell and his convoy, and the splendid little fighting force he commanded, the story of what happened at Cawnpore becomes very pleasant reading. On the morning of the 30th, the further bank of the Ganges was white with the tents and black with the masses of Campbell’s force. With what wrath Campbell’s soldiers looked across the river and saw all their baggage ascending, in the shape of clouds of black smoke, to the sky may be guessed, but not described. Many wrathful camp expletives, no doubt, followed the upward curling smoke!