too much remained to be achieved for more than a passing notice of those who had succumbed. With the return of order came questions of reconstruction. The past, with many who had moved prominently through it, was for a time obscured. For a few weeks, paragraphs announcing in regretful terms the death of the Lieutenant-Governor of Agra reappeared in the news from India. In December, at the last visitation of the Directors of the East India Company to their College of Haileybury, which, like themselves, was about to be abolished, Mr. Mangles, the Chairman, referred to him in words of conspicuous eulogy. A few days later the friendly hand of the late Sir Charles Trevelyan recalled to his countrymen in the columns of the Times the services and the career of Mr. Colvin. His name after that fell by degrees into temporary oblivion; to reappear, before much time had passed, in narratives of the events of 1857. Many, more fortunate if less prominent, who had taken part in those events, survived, to tell in their own words, and from their own point of view, their share in them. To others who, like Mr. Colvin, had died in the discharge of duty, justice was done by friends. 'I trust implicitly to you, in case I fall,' wrote Sir Henry Lawrence to a brother, 'to see that, in the event of the loss of all my papers, which is not improbable, my memory gets fair play. I want no more.'
Sir Henry Lawrence in Oudh, and Mr. Colvin in the North-West Provinces, were the officers in charge