_1854-1856. MEEAN MEER_
Meean Meer--Death of Brigadier--Unpleasant recollections--First
telegraphic dispatch--A son--Simla--Canal--Uniform--Shalimar
Gardens--Lahore--Sebastopol--Dost Mahomed--Troops to Crimea--Aspect
of affairs--Santhal outbreak--Another survey--Journey to Simla--
Severe illness--A weary journey--Death of infant--Sick leave--Oude
annexed--A sad case--Sail for England--Our voyage--Arrive in
England--Aberdeen.
After a succession of orders and counter-orders, the 10th marched
away[142] from Wuzzeerabad; on the eighth day thereafter entered the
recently erected and spacious barracks of Meean Meer. On the extensive
plain where they stand, the Khalsa army assembled in 1845, prior to
the “invasion of India” by them, and prior to that date quarters there
existed for the troops of Runjeet Singh. On the same plain in 1846, the
victorious army under Lord Gough encamped, and so commanded Lahore,
situated some six miles distant. The name of the locality is that of
a saint, a native of Bukkur in Scinde, who flourished in the time of
Jehangir,[143] and whose tomb still remains in tolerable repair.
Among those who died in the early part of 1854 was the Brigadier
commanding,[144] an old officer whose service in India had extended
over about fifty years. He represented a class, then somewhat numerous,
of men who had proceeded to that country while as yet in their teens,
and thenceforward spent the whole or greater part of their lives in it.
The funeral was performed with full military honours; but what struck
us as incongruous and out of place was the suddenness with which, after
it had been completed, the strains of “The Dead March” were succeeded
by those of what were described as “rollicking” airs. Surely, under
such circumstances, it would be more appropriate were the troops
marched back in silence to their barracks.
Unhappily a painful state of “tension” had for some time previous
existed in relations between the officer in command and those
immediately under him; confidence was seriously impaired among all
grades; actions and “system” of the superior looked upon as capricious,
influenced by personal feelings, and, in some instances, tyrannical.
The outcome of all this was, in respect to those affected, a condition
very difficult to be borne, an existence approaching the miserable in
place of one of friendly communication after the manner of regiments in
general. Among the ranks there was reason to believe that attempts had
been made, and others contemplated, against the objectional life. The
following incident was suggestive under the circumstances of the time.
A soldier came to hospital; a man of good character, long service, and
known never to shirk duty. To the usual question, “What is the matter
with you?” he answered, “Nothing, sir.” Then, “What brings you here?”
“Because I am harassed and worried to death, and have come to ask if
you can give me a day or two’s rest.” His request was acceded to, and
so, in all probability, a serious crime averted.
In the middle of March a Lahore newspaper published what was the first
telegraphic[145] intelligence ever received in this part of India.
According to that intelligence, the Russian Ambassador to England had
taken his departure from London; France and England were dispatching
troops in view to joint action in support of Turkey, those from our
own country comprising twenty-two battalions, and so leaving only
eleven, exclusive of Household troops, in home garrisons. A month later
came the further news that all the forces in the United Kingdom were
under orders of readiness for service; that a powerful fleet had been
mobilised; the army materially augmented, several regiments recalled
from the West Indies, and the fleet dispatched to the Baltic.
On 30th of March a son[146] was born to me by my beloved wife, as
I wrote at the time--another hostage to Fortune, and very material
inducement for exertion on my part to earn, if possible, means
whereby to maintain and educate my children in such a manner as is
incumbent upon me. The state of her health required that with the least
practicable delay she should proceed to the hills. A house was engaged
at Simla for the season, and there she passed the greater part of the
hot months.
My health having given way, I proceeded to that sanatorium somewhat
later in the hot season. Forty miles from the plains, and 7,600 feet
above sea level, the climate of Simla is agreeably cool, but rain
so heavy that during the three months of summer the fall amounts to
100 inches. In the faces of declivities from rocks and mountain spurs
grew deodars and rhododendrons, intermingled with wild apple, cherry,
holly, walnut, etc.; orchids, ferns, ivy, and woodbine. Small but
rapid streams pursue their tortuous course over their rocky beds in
each narrow valley, and at a distance of some two or three miles are
two cascades of some 70 and 120 feet in height. Away in the distance
the magnificence of the snowy range, consisting of what seems like an
interminable succession of white glistening peaks, fixes the mind in
wonder and admiration; while in a clear day it is possible to see the
plains, together with the windings of the river Sutlej.
The “inauguration”--otherwise commencement--of what was to be the great
canal uniting the Ganges and the Jumna was duly celebrated. The subject
of that canal was discussed in the public papers from different points
of view; the channel, while intended to irrigate many tracts that stand
in need of being so fertilised, would be used in places where such aid
to agriculture was not required, and in certain localities “malaria”
would appear where none now exists. It may be curious to compare those
predictions with the results of experience.
Somewhat later in the year a Cheap Postage Act came into operation in
India, according to the system adopted in England since 1841. Another
matter noted at the time had reference solely to the army; namely, that
an entire change took place in the uniform of soldiers and officers,
one item relating to which was that thenceforward the infantry were
directed to leave the upper lip unshaven,--in other words, to grow
moustachios.[147]
In the middle of October my wife and children arrived from the hills.
With health restored she was able to enjoy rides and other excursions
around our station, the crisp morning air of the Punjab restoring to
her cheeks, as to those of others that had become pallid, the rosy
tinge natural to them. The frequency with which field-days and other
great military displays took place--for our force numbered 13,000
fighting men--gave her, with other ladies, opportunities of being
present on such occasions, and entertainments of sorts furnished us
with an object or excuse to visit what were then the well-kept and
ornamental gardens of Shalimar, the original planning of which is
credited to Sultan Beg, an “Admiral of the Fleet” to Shah Jehan.
Occasional visits had to be made to Lahore, the history of which city
presenting many points of interest, a few particulars relating thereto
may be interpolated in this place. Surrounded by a line of ramparts
now dismantled and rapidly going to decay, sufficient remains to
indicate the great strength of the original fortifications. At regular
intervals there are gateways, at each of which a strong guard was
formerly posted for defence. Through one such gate we entered, and were
immediately in a labyrinth of narrow and crowded streets. The houses,
built partly of brick, partly of sandstone, are three and four stories
in height, their fronts more or less elaborately ornamented by carvings
of different kinds, but all such devices presenting evidence of decay.
What formerly was the palace of Dyhan Singh is now a pay office for
British troops. The Shish Mahal, or Glass Palace, is much defaced;
the precious stones of its mosaic work taken away, the spaces at one
time occupied by them giving to the whole an aspect of dilapidation
even beyond what has actually taken place. What was the audience hall,
however, remains in good repair, the walls and roof ornamented by
mirrors of various sizes, some set in silver frames, others in those of
gold, the whole interspersed with paintings done in the most gorgeous
colours. But how changed the style of occupants now from that which in
days gone by harmonized with such surroundings! As we entered, there
sat upon the marble floor a motley crowd of Sikhs, men and women, old
and young, their costumes betokening that they were of the labouring
classes; the mission that brought them hither to receive, at the hands
of representatives of the great Company Bahadur, pensions for sons,
husbands, or fathers who fell in battle against that wonderful and
mysterious abstraction known to “the masses” of India only by that
designation. In close vicinity to the Shish Mahal was a large mosque,
very similar in style and appearance to the Jumna Musjid at Delhi; it
was now occupied as a magazine. Thence we proceeded to the gateway
where a few years ago Rajah Nao Nehal Singh lost his life,--whether by
accident or design is still by some few persons considered doubtful.
Adjoining that gate stands the tomb of Runjeet Singh, on entering which
we found two priests ready to give whatever aid the Feringhee might
stand in need of. Under a coverlet of green cloth the Grunth, or Holy
Book of the Sikhs, was carefully preserved; but the cloth was raised
for us, so that we might look upon the sacred volume. In a shrine under
an unfinished dome within the temple or tomb, the ashes of Runjeet were
preserved, the shrine itself concealed under a green cloth; the walls
of the mausoleum covered with paintings and other representations of
Sikh mythology. In another building, though of less artistic appearance
than that mentioned, were preserved the ashes of Nao Nehal Singh and of
Soochet Singh; between the two shrines containing them lay covered as
before the Grunth.
In the last week of October came news that the Russian camp before
Sebastopol had been forced, but with a loss to the allied forces of
2,500 in killed and wounded. Many of us, besides the interest natural
to the important events then taking place in the Crimea, had personal
acquaintances among the actors in the drama of war there in progress,
and were moreover conscious of an existing possibility that we also
might be transferred to that sphere of action--a possibility looked at
from various points of view, according to circumstances, pecuniary and
matrimonial, of individual officers.
The Indian papers of the day gave currency to a report that our quondam
ally and prisoner Dost Mahomed had been making endeavours, by means
of vakeels, to sound the Indian Government in regard to an alliance,
offensive and defensive; intimating at the same time the possibility
of his coming to terms with Russia, should his proposal be rejected.
But according to the views expressed at the time, little danger was
apprehended in the North-West,--that is, from Russia,--on account of
the natural mountain barrier that serves as a defence in that direction.
Early in 1855 news reached us that Inkerman had been won[148] by our
troops, though at a cost to those engaged of 2,600 in killed and
wounded out of 6,000, the 57th being among the heaviest sufferers.
Several regiments[149] had already been sent direct from India to
the Crimea; the 10th expecting to follow to the same destination,
officers and soldiers composing it held themselves prepared for such an
emergency, which however did not occur. Among ourselves the chances of
service nearer at hand were freely discussed, as were possible risks
that might attend the further withdrawal of troops from India. That a
state of unrest existed was declared from day to day in the columns of
the local papers, and was evident to all who chose to pay attention to
palpable indications. Few, if any, of us at the time gave a thought to
the conditions to which that unrest was due, nor to the outbreak in
which it was so soon to culminate.
All ranks and grades pertaining to regiments were interested in the
varying phases of public affairs, their personal comfort, convenience,
and possible prospects being likely to be affected thereby. For some
time past Persia had treated British representatives with growing
marks of disrespect, and now the circumstance led to the withdrawal
from Teheran of the Commissioner of Her Majesty at that capital.
There were, moreover, suspicions of an intended movement on Herat,
in accordance, as believed, with Russian instigation; consequently,
the early dispatch of an expedition was looked upon as a probable
contingency,--the object, according to one set of views, to “assist”
the Shah; according to another, to coerce him. Speculation was indulged
in as to the regiments most likely to be so employed, “ours” being
considered one of the most likely to be so. Our arrangements were made
accordingly; but a year had to elapse before war was actually declared.
In the month of July (1855) came the unexpected news that the Santhals
had broken out in rebellion. We asked each other, Who are the Santhals?
They were a half-savage tribe inhabiting the Rajmahal Hills; nor was
it possible at the time to ascertain the ostensible cause of their
outbreak. The troops sent against them consisted of a local corps,[150]
composed of their own tribesmen, the natural result being that they
fraternised with the rebels. The next “force” dispatched to quell the
outbreak was a body of sepoys of the 7th N.I.,[151] and they, it was
reported, fired over the heads of the rebels, their officers using
their fists upon the men who did so.[152] Meanwhile the rebellion
spread; depredations and murders were committed wholesale. Martial law
was proclaimed in the disturbed districts; troops were employed during
seven months against men armed to a great extent with bows and arrows;
at last the guerilla warfare was brought to a close. The inaction of
the sepoys on the occasion alluded to became significant some time
thereafter when the great mutiny occurred.
The death of the Czar and accession to the Russian throne of Alexander
were the most important items of intelligence brought by the mail
arriving early in April; another, his expressed determination to
continue the war with vigour. Other items of intelligence noted at the
time as having more or less important bearings upon affairs in India,
included the withdrawal of Lord Aberdeen from the Ministry and the
appointment of Lord Palmerston as his successor; the death of Joseph
Hume, who, it was remembered, had begun his career in the Burmese war
of 1824-26; and lastly, the cross-fire between Admiral Sir Charles
Napier, on his return from Cronstadt, and Sir James Graham, the First
Lord of the Admiralty. Then came details of the attacks on the Mamelon
and Malakoff Towers, and of the losses incurred by our troops, more
especially by the 57th. Following thereon, intelligence arrived of the
outbreak of cholera among the allies in the Crimea, and of the death
thereby of Lord Raglan.
In the early days of September, the serious illness of my wife at
Simla rendered it necessary that I should proceed thither without
delay. On the journey all went well, till on arriving at the river
Beas--the Hyphasis of the ancients--the palkee in which I was being
conveyed across, by means of a boat, was by some mischance permitted
to fall into the stream, after which accident, time so pressed that
without interruption I continued my journey. Arrived at the foot of
the hills, I mounted a horse, and, lantern in hand,--for night had now
closed in,--I proceeded along the rough footpath which then was the
only representative of a road. Soon the darkness was absolute; the
roughness of the pathway had increased; the thick jungle was close
to me on either side. Then it was that my steed stumbled and fell;
myself and lantern were on the ground; my light extinguished. In this
condition of things I perforce remained a considerable time, until a
party of pedestrians, having at their head a torch-bearer, came upon
me. I was glad to return with them to the nearest staging bungalow, and
there remain till morning. Next day I resumed my journey. I reached my
destination tired and feeling much indisposed.
Five days thereafter I was seized with what proved to be a most serious
illness. One day of intense headache, another of shivering, then
prostration, then delirium, after which a blank of more than a couple
of weeks. Such were the results of this untoward journey. During those
days and nights of delirium, a succession of very horrible dreams,
hallucinations or mental wanderings haunted me, one of the most painful
being that everything in my room--bed, tables, chairs, etc.--was alive,
and that I myself was double; at the same time I was haunted with an
intensely strong desire to die. In the third week of my illness my
state was so far improved that I was able to sit up in bed, but only
for a few minutes in the day. During this trying and anxious time to
my dear wife, she had to tend me, not only by day, but also at night;
her servant, the wife of a soldier, assisting her. It was in these
circumstances that she gave birth to a son on October 7.
Weak in body, and ill as I was, my wife far from recovered, with the
additional charge of a baby to that of a sick husband, we left Simla on
October 26; in due time arrived at Umballah, and on November 4 joined
my regiment there, it being _en route_ to Dinapore. The following day
I underwent the ordeal of having the uvula cut off, that organ having
become so elongated during the severity of my illness as by constantly
irritating the throat to add to the severe cough and lung complication
which formed part of my illness. Much of our march was by road already
traversed. Our usual hour of starting ranged from three to four in the
morning; we had to rise at least an hour before that time, and I well
remember how on such occasions my dear wife, herself very ill-fitted
by reason of the weak state of her health, prepared for me a cup of
egg-flip, and so enabled me to bear removal from my camp bed to the
dooly in which I travelled. But as we marched from day to day, health
so far recovered that I became able to walk some little distance at a
time by means of a stick. My left lower limb was much the weaker of
the two, but at first I failed to perceive that it was to some degree
paralysed.
On Christmas Day our young infant was observed to be somewhat ill.
With great rapidity his symptoms increased in severity, and on the
last day of the year death came as a relief to his sufferings. As soon
as practicable after the severity of his illness declared itself, we
hurried on from camp to the dâk bungalow at Barode, and there the dear
innocent babe passed away to his rest. The thought of leaving the
remains of our loved one in the jungle was horrible; we accordingly
procured such a coffin as could be roughly put together by the bazaar
carpenter, and with our melancholy burthen pushed on to Benares,
where we arrived at 1 a.m. on New Year’s Day. It was not, however,
until sunset of the same day that arrangements for the interment
were completed, and the remains reverently committed to earth in the
Military Cemetery.
Four months elapsed, illness still prostrated me. Recovery was little
likely to occur while I remained in India; consequently there was
no alternative but to proceed on sick leave to England. On arriving
at Calcutta, much difficulty was experienced on obtaining temporary
accommodation, the hotels and other establishments being full. After
some delay quarters in Fort William were assigned to me; furniture and
equipment obtained on hire, and so I waited until official routine had
been gone through, and authority granted for my departure.
For some time past the contemplated annexation of Oude was known
throughout the military stations of India. The carrying out of that
intention was naturally looked forward to as likely to result in
a force being assembled, and perhaps engaged on active service.
My own incapacity to take part in any such service was a severe
disappointment. When, added to my physical condition, the fact that
pecuniary affairs had not yet emerged from a state of difficulty, and
that prospects were far from bright as to health being ever restored
sufficiently to enable me to meet responsibilities attached to me as
“bread-winner,” the general survey of the position in which I stood was
decidedly depressing. In one respect it was a relief to me to learn
that all chances of service had been averted; that Oude had been
annexed without the necessity for sacrificing life--at that time at
least.
In the suite of rooms adjoining ours in Fort William an officer was
suddenly seized with cholera, the attack rapidly progressing to his
death. After that event his young wife, who had been constant in her
attentions to him, observed his fingers move spasmodically, as often
happens in such cases; thereupon she rushed to the medical officer in
attendance, exclaiming frantically, “He lives, he lives; why say you
that he is dead?” Nor was it easy to convince her that her hopes were
vain,--that he had gone to his rest. The scene was altogether a very
painful one to witness, though one by no means uncommon in India.
Suffering as I was from physical weakness, and conscious of the
possibilities that might happen to those dependent upon me, in the
probable contingency which now presented itself vividly to my mind,
the fact that for some days I became prostrated under the influences
then prevailing was no surprise to myself. On the 5th of March the
_Marlborough_, in which we had embarked the previous afternoon, started
in tow of a steamer; but what between breakdowns and other mishaps, it
was not until the 17th--St. Patrick’s Day--that our homeward voyage
really began.
The voyage was by no means propitious, for, as noted at the time
various causes of discomfort and inconvenience were at work. Scarcely
had we got to sea before the woman engaged to attend our children
became ill, and so gave up her work; mumps and whooping-cough affected
nearly every child on board; my eldest had a tedious attack of fever;
my wife became ill, partly from arduous attendance on the children,
partly from the unwholesome conditions on board. Gradually there
had become perceptible a stench, which in its intensity affected
seriously the health of the people on board, and rendered discoloured
the white-lead paint throughout the vessel, the plated dishes, and
articles in personal wear. Pumps were set to work and kept continually
in use; myriads of maggots were thus taken up with the bilge-water,
proving the existence in the depths of the vessel of animal matter in
a state of decomposition. A formal representation by the officer[153]
commanding the invalids on board and myself to the captain was made on
the subject, with a request that he would put in at Delagoa Bay. That
representation was ignored; and so the remaining portion of the voyage
had to be got over, the conditions just mentioned having, as expressed,
“to wear themselves out.”
On the 1st of July we passed the Azores at so short a distance from
them that we were able to enjoy the view of those beautiful islands.
Nearing Plymouth, our ship was boarded by a venerable pilot, who,
though seventy years of age, was actively employed in his responsible
and arduous vocation. On the 14th of that month we reached Gravesend,
and there disembarked; my wife infirm in health, two of our children
unrecovered from their attacks of illness while on board, myself with
one limb disabled, my physical condition to a great extent wrecked. In
due course the ordeal of a Medical Board was gone through; the members
of that body were able to appraise the significance of that condition,
but in accordance with “the system” of the day were unable to recommend
leave of absence for any longer period than three months--a period
obviously insufficient for restoration to health and activity.
A few weeks were spent in travelling in search of health. The fact
being evident that further leave must be applied for in due time, the
climate of Aberdeen was selected as one suited to my then condition;
in that city, accordingly, we remained for several successive months,
with result as anticipated, that the bracing winter air proved to be
health-restoring and invigorating, though the period during which I
was permitted to enjoy it was insufficient for its full benefit being
obtained. In various ways civility was shown to us by residents. On the
winter “session” at Marischal College being opened, a kind invitation
was sent to me by Dr. Pirie to attend his lectures. Little thought I at
the time how soon some of the valuable teaching communicated in those
lectures was to be practically applied.