Obituary Notices. 
xlvii 
its many quaint and pleasant memories, as to a bright and joyous 
holiday; which, indeed, it was. But for one standing here on the 
margin of these rivers, which a few weeks ago were red with the 
blood of our murdered brothers and sisters, and straining the ear to 
catch the echo of our avenging artillery, it is difficult to turn the 
mind to what seem dreams of past days of peace and security ; and 
memory itself grows dim in the attempt to repass the gulf which 
the last few months has interposed between the present and the 
time to which this Narrative refers.” 
He visited soon after these tragedies the historical Well of 
Cawnpore, and afterwards designed the erection which encloses it. 
On his way home from Burmah he was sent to report on the 
defences of Singapore, and the works he recommended were 
sanctioned by Government. 
Although residence in India during the latter years of his stay 
became in some degree distasteful from various causes — among 
others the prolonged absence from wife and child, and considera- 
tions of health — he enjoyed the compensation of feeling that his 
character and services were appreciated in the highest quarters, for 
the confidence and regard, so fully and heartily bestowed by Lord 
Dalhousie, were continued in no stinted measure by Lord Canning ; 
the intimacy becoming naturally greater, for such a crisis as the 
Mutiny brings out the deeper qualities of good men, and reveals 
them to each other. His admiration for Lady Canning, and regret 
for her loss — a victim to the anxieties of that terrible time — are 
recorded in some touching lines to the memory of that charming and 
gifted woman. He retired from the service in 1862, with the less 
hesitation that Lord Canning, who was then returning to England, 
had given him the confident assurance that he should receive some 
suitable employment. And no doubt this would have been the 
case had Lord Canning lived. But, as may be remembered, he died 
almost immediately after his return, and even had he left any 
political heir, Colonel Yule would have been the last man to urge 
his own claims. Full, however, of sympathy and interest, personal 
as well as public, in his late chiefs career, he was desirous to 
write his life. But the family declined his offer, which is to be 
regretted, not merely because the various short memoirs he has 
since compiled are models of what such essays ought to be, but also 
