John Nicholson | Page 9

to leave. India, as he wrote, was
"like a rat-trap," more difficult to get out of than into, and it was not
until January 1850 that he was at last free to depart. His old friend and
colleague, Herbert Edwardes, as it happened, was also of a mind to see
"the old country" again, so the two journeyed together down to
Bombay, whence they took ship for England.
But before Nicholson was to see his widowed mother again he was to
pass through a romantic experience which deserves a chapter to itself.

[1] An Unrecorded Chapter of the Indian Mutiny.
CHAPTER V.
ON FURLOUGH.
Nicholson's plan, which he proceeded to carry out, was to pay a visit to
Egypt, where he was desirous to see Thebes, Cairo, and the Pyramids,
and thence journey home by way of Constantinople and Vienna. He did
not intend to stay long in any of these places, but circumstances were
against him. At both the Turkish and Austrian capitals he was detained
by adventures which appealed strongly to his chivalrous nature. The

account of these comes to us through Sir John Kaye, to whom
Nicholson's mother told the story.
At the time that Nicholson arrived in Constantinople, early in the New
Year of 1850, the city held a notable prisoner. This was Louis Kossuth,
the Hungarian patriot, whom the Austrians had driven into exile.
Owing to British influence, the revolutionary leader's asylum in Turkey
was rendered safe for the time, but a movement was set on foot by his
friends to smuggle him out of the country and convey him to America.
Such a project received all Nicholson's sympathies, and when a friend
of his--an Englishman who had married a Hungarian lady and served in
the Magyar army--enlisted his help, he readily placed himself at the
other's service.
The scheme was a simple one. Every day Kossuth took a ride
accompanied by a few Turkish soldiers, the route being changed on
each occasion. It was accordingly arranged that he should choose to
ride on a particular day in the direction of the sea-coast. At a certain
spot the conspirators were to await him and his escort, overpower the
latter, and carry Kossuth on board an American frigate which was to be
at hand.
Unhappily for the patriot, a lady who was in the secret revealed it to a
bosom friend, who in turn confided in another. In a short time it came
to the knowledge of the Austrian ambassador. Representations were at
once made to the Turkish authorities, who redoubled their vigilance,
and the plot fell through.
The same friend, "General G----," through whom Nicholson had been
interested in the attempt to free Kossuth, now asked the young officer
to do him another favour. His wife, a Hungarian lady, as has been said,
was imprisoned in an Austrian fortress. So vigorous was the
confinement that she was kept in ignorance of her husband's fate, and
the General was anxious to send her news of his escape and present
whereabouts. Nicholson promptly undertook to convey a letter to the
unfortunate lady, should it be possible to do so, and started off
immediately for the fortress.

On arriving at his destination, he marched boldly up to the gate of the
citadel, demanding to see the officer of the guard.
"I am Major Nicholson of the Indian Army," he said, "and I shall be
greatly obliged if you will allow me to see my friend, Madame G----."
The request was undoubtedly an irregular one, but the Austrian officer,
after a little demur, courteously gave his permission. Nicholson was
then conducted to the prisoner's cell and told that he could have five
minutes' conversation, no longer. As soon as the door had closed
behind him, and he and Madame G---- were alone, he pulled off one of
his boots and drew out the letter, saying, "You have just five minutes to
read it, and give me any message for your husband."
[Illustration: "You have just five minutes to read it, and give me any
message for your husband."]
There was no time for the poor lady to express her gratitude as fully as
she would have liked. Having read the welcome letter, she told her
visitor what she wished him to say to her husband, and then--the five
minutes having expired--Nicholson departed.
"These two incidents," says Sir John Kaye, "speak for themselves.
There is no lack, thank God, of kind men, brave men, or good men
among us, but out of them all how many would have done these two
things for 'his neighbour'? How many respectable men would at this
moment condemn them both?"
What Henry Lawrence and his noble wife thought of the Kossuth
enterprise was expressed in a letter from the latter some months later.
"You can