Their reception was certainly impressive.
Guns were fired, Lord Rawthorne rode out to meet them with a detachment of Cavalry carrying pennants, flowers were thrown into their carriage and great crowds of people cheered as they drove through the town towards The Palace.
The old town of Gwalior was a mile and a half from the new town of Lashkar, ‘the Camp’, so named when the previous Maharajah, a warlike man, had pitched his tents there in 1809.
He had started to erect a permanent building surrounded by a Park or compound so vast that, Brucena was told later, tigers strolled through it thinking that they were still in their own wild territory.
The Palace was very impressive and it was surrounded with crimson bougainvillaea.
There was the din of a vast number of kettle drums and the bray
