_1842-1843. IN PROGRESS TO JOIN_
Chinsurah--Cholera--Start--Omissions--Relics of mortality--
Collision--Fire--Panic--Berhampore--The “garrison”--Crime and
punishment--Civilities--Progress resumed--A hurricane--Cawnpore--
Attached to 50th Regiment--The troops--Agra--Sind--Gwalior--39th
Regiment.
First impressions of this our first station in India, recorded at
the time, were:--Houses of mud, roofs consisting of reeds, fronts
open from end to end; members of families within squatting, infants
sprawling, in a state of nudity, upon earthen floors made smooth and
polished by means of cowdung applied in a liquid state; while to
outside walls cakes of the same material are in process of drying, to
be thereafter used as fuel by Hindoos. Gardens and cultivated fields
abound; flowering trees and shrubs, cocoa palms, banana bushes, clumps
of bamboo, rise above dense undergrowth of succulent plants. A heavy,
oppressive atmosphere, pervaded by odours, sweet and otherwise, has
a depressing effect, as if conditions were not altogether wholesome.
European houses according to Holland model, terraces and gardens giving
to them an attractive and elegant appearance, indicating the importance
of the place while in the hands of the Dutch, prior to date[8] of the
treaty in accordance with which it was by them exchanged for Java. An
extensive range of spacious barracks and supplementary buildings added
much to the beauty of the station.
Before many days were over several of our young lads had fallen victims
to cholera. In this our first experience of that disease we had access
to no one capable of giving aid and advice; we were left to individual
judgment, and it altogether astray as to the appropriate method in our
emergency. For a time, out of our small party death claimed several
daily victims; young wives were thus left widows, young children
orphans.
Glad to receive orders of readiness to resume progress by river to next
stage of our journey. Then arrived two senior officers,--one to take
military command;[9] the other, departmental charge of our detachment.
Country boats provided as before, others of better kind for officers.
Our unwieldy fleet started at the appointed time;[10] the boats
comprising it straggled irregularly across the river, and having gained
the opposite bank, there made fast for the night.
Early next morning it was in movement. Mid-day heat became oppressive.
One of the soldiers was prostrated by cholera, another by sun fever.
Inquiry revealed the unpleasant fact that the “experienced” officer
recently appointed for the purpose had made no arrangements whatever
for sick. Those fallen ill were now sent in small boats back towards
Chinsurah; and so we continued our river progress, steps being taken to
have deficient requirements sent on without delay.
Next evening was far advanced ere they arrived. The numbers of our sick
had increased, several deaths taken place, some with appalling rapidity
in the absence of means of help. The great heat prevailing made early
interment necessary. Graves had to be hastily made in groves of trees
near the river bank; to them the dead were committed, our fleet
continuing its progress, sailing or tracking[11] according to wind and
current. After night had fallen, the blaze of funeral pyres on the
river banks told their tale of pestilence.
For several days mortality was great in our small party, and among the
native boatmen. As deaths occurred among the latter, the bodies were
simply left on the bank to be devoured by jackals, dogs, and vultures,
numbers of which were in wait for prey. Some of our boats sprung leaks,
and so became useless; nor was it an easy matter to get them replaced.
Men and stores had to be got out as best they could and disposed
of among others--proceedings by no means easy under then present
circumstances.
At last there came an interval in which the malign influence of our
invisible enemy seemed as if withheld. While gliding upwards against
the silent river current, suddenly from one of the men’s boats there
burst a mass of thick smoke, speedily followed by flame, and within
the space of a few minutes nothing except the charred framework
remained. How, or by what means, the occupants of the boat escaped
did not transpire; that they did so was fortunate for themselves and
satisfactory to all, though the accident, subsequently ascertained to
have resulted from their own carelessness, destroyed their entire kits
and other belongings.
Short was our respite. Suddenly and fatally was our detachment again
struck, several deaths by cholera occurring in quick succession. Our
somewhat eventful “voyage” was near its end, when in mid-stream two of
our boats came violently in collision with each other, considerable
mutual damage being the result. An unfortunate panic occurred among the
recruits on board, one of whom leapt overboard and so disappeared. Soon
afterwards our journey was at an end, it having occupied eleven days;
we arrived at Berhampore.
Near to the spacious range of barracks in which our young soldiers
were accommodated were lines occupied by a native regiment,[12]--at
that time reputed to be of distinguished loyalty to Jân Kompanee, with
whose liberal dealings towards its own proper servants all were so
well pleased. In others were invalids, soldiers’ wives and children
pertaining to regiments[13] employed in the war proceeding against
China; many as yet unaware that they had been made widows and orphans
by the climate of Chusan and coast generally.
Here the conduct of our lads--for they had scarcely become men--became
so reckless that military discipline had to be rigidly enforced, while
in many instances severe or fatal illness seemed to be the direct
result of their own misconduct. As a ready, and as thought at the
time effectual, means of coercion, corporal punishment was awarded
by courts-martial. The ordeal of being present during its infliction
was nauseating; but constituted as the detachment was, the punishment
seemed to have been in all cases well deserved.
General Raper was the officer in political charge of the Nawab of
Moorshedabad, then a boy of some ten years old. Several civilians high
in rank, and a few non-official residents, for the most part connected
with the manufacture of tussar[14] silk, resided at Berhampore. From
several of them we young officers received much attention and kindness,
not only in their own houses but on excursions organized by them for
our special benefit. Prominent among those who thus befriended us,
young “griffs” as we were, General Raper and Charles Du Pré Russell are
remembered gratefully--even while these notes are penned, many years
after the date and incidents referred to.
In due time the order arrived for us to resume our river journey,
our destination Cawnpore; again country-made boats our means of
transport. In the early days of August we started on what was to be
in many respects a monotonous voyage, though not altogether without
its excitement and stirring incidents. The general manner of our
progress was that with which we were now acquainted. We were doomed,
as before, to be at intervals stricken by cholera, which seemed to
have its favourite lurking-places, generally at the foot of a somewhat
precipitous alluvial bank. Night after night rest was disturbed or
altogether banished by the sound of tom-toms, songs, barking of dogs,
cries of jackals; sight and smell offended by funeral fires as they
blazed in near proximity to us.
More than half our journey was got over without special mishap. Our
boatmen observe that signs of coming storm appear in the sky; they
prepare as best they can, but soon the hurricane is upon us. Boats are
dashed against each other, and against the river bank; waves break over
them, tearing away their flimsy gear, battering some to pieces, their
inmates obliged to escape and save themselves as best they could. After
a time there came a downpour of rain; then gradually the storm ceased,
leaving several of our number boatless, and destitute of greater or
smaller portions of our respective kits. Among others, I suffered
considerably. A friend in need, more fortunate than myself, gave me
hospitality on his boat until sometime thereafter, when, with others
similarly situated, I chartered a budgerow. A few days after our mishap
news reached us that a similar fleet to our own, with troops,[15]
some thirty miles ahead of us, suffered very severely from the same
hurricane that had struck us, a considerable number of the men in it
having perished in the river.
Without further incident of importance we arrived at Cawnpore in the
early days of November, our journey by river having occupied more than
two months and a half, the date fourteen years before the terrible
year 1857, when that station was to acquire the sad memory ever since
associated with it. Anticipating the return to India of the force
commanded by General Pollock from Jellalabad, the march to which
place had restored British prestige from the temporary eclipse at
Jugdulluck, orders were issued to honour that army by an appropriate
military display on the left bank of the Sutlej. Among the regiments
assembled for that purpose, at Ferozepore, the then frontier station,
were the Buffs. Orders had also directed that on completion of that
duty they should march towards Allahabad and there occupy the fort, the
detachment with which I was connected joining headquarters _en route_.
For the time being we were attached to the 50th Regiment, and so
continued during the remaining four months of the cold season.
Here took place the first initiation into their several duties
connected with regimental life of the young men belonging to our
detachment, myself among them. Among the officers in the “Dirty
Half-Hundred” who had served with it during the Peninsular War, when,
on account of the continuous severe work performed by it, the corps
obtained its honourable soubriquet, three[16] remained, looked up to
with the respect due to, and then accorded to, distinguished veterans.
Alternate with duties assigned to us, amusements filled up our time
pleasantly. Gaiety was in full flow. Many were the joyous gatherings
by which were filled the Assembly rooms--some years thereafter to be
the scene of very terrible doings. Outdoor games and sports were the
order of the day, the tract of jungle in Oude that stretched along
the opposite river bank proving our most happy hunting ground. So it
was that time passed pleasantly, if in an intellectual sense not very
profitably. At the time alluded to traffic and communication with Oude
was by means of a long bridge of boats, that bridge from their attack
on which in subsequent days the Gwalior mutineers were to be driven by
the forces under Sir Colin Campbell.[17]
A large force, comprising all arms, then occupied that important
station. The impression made upon us, as for the first time we beheld
the magnificent spectacle presented by general field-day parades and
exercises, was never to be forgotten. The swarthy visages of the
sepoys; their quaint uniforms attracted our notice. The solidarity
of the 50th gave the impression of irresistible force. The rush of
cavalry, as, like a whirlwind, they went at full charge, to a great
extent concealed in a cloud of dust raised by their horses’ hoofs;
the magnificent and unsurpassed Bengal Horse Artillery, in performing
the evolutions pertaining to them,--these incidents struck us with
amazement and admiration. Little did we think that not many months
thereafter we were to be even more struck with admiration at the
brilliant performance of some of those very troops in actual fight.
A trip to Agra[18] introduced me to the experiences of _palkee dâk_.
Travelling by night, the distance got over was about fifty miles;
alongside trotted torch-carriers, the odours from those “pillars of
flame” foul and offensive. During the day a halt was made at bungalows
provided by Government for the use of travellers. Thus were four
days occupied in making a journey of two hundred miles. In and near
Agra various excursions were made and places of interest visited.
In the fort had recently been deposited the gates of Somnath,[19]
in connection with the removal of which from Ghuznee the bombastic
proclamation by Lord Ellenborough was still subject of comment. The
tomb of Akbar[20] and the exquisite Taj Mahal[21] were visited on
several occasions. The scene presented by the latter, more especially
as seen by moonlight, was extremely beautiful. The minarets and domes
of the mausoleum, consisting of pure white marble; the long avenue
of cypress trees by which it is approached; the fountains in full
play; the ornamental flower pots,--made upon us an impression never
afterwards to be forgotten.
With the regiments returned recently from Kandahar, aided by troops
from Bombay and Bengal, Sir Charles Napier undertook an expedition
against the disaffected Ameers of Scinde. In February, 1843, the
battles of Meeanee and Hyderabad ended in defeat of their forces,
Hyderabad occupied, the country being conquered during the succeeding
month of March. Of that war it was said: “The Muhamadan rulers of
Sind, known as the Ameers, whose chief fault was that they would not
surrender their independence, were crushed.”
In the neighbouring State of Gwalior events were in progress, the issue
of which was destined to affect the 39th, the 50th, and the Buffs in a
way not at the moment anticipated by either of those regiments. Early
in February, the distant boom of heavy guns intimated to us at Agra
that the Maharajah of Gwalior was dead, and had been succeeded on his
throne by his adopted son[22] in the absence of a lineal heir. In such
events there did not appear anything to interfere with the routine of
pleasure in which so many young officers indulged; that routine went on
uninterruptedly, for as yet with them the serious business of life was
in the future.
Those were indeed the days of India’s hospitality, alike in respect
to individuals and regiments. For example: Three weeks had I been an
honorary member of the “Dorsets’” mess, when the time of my departure
arrived; yet to my request for my mess bill I received the reply,
“There is none.” Among the officers whose hospitality I had so long
unconsciously enjoyed were two, father and son, both of whom I was
shortly to meet under circumstances very different from those in which
I had made their acquaintance.