CHAPTER XXIII

_1862-1864. DEVONPORT. CALCUTTA_

Paris--Versailles--Champ de Mars--An incident--Rouen--Proceed to

India--Calcutta--A _mélange_ of subjects--Continued--A painful

incident--State trial--Sea transport--General events--43rd

Regiment--More “news”--Scenes revisited--A rough journey--Hill

coolies--Darjeeling--Sinchal--Nunsook--Rungeet--Pilgrims--Locusts--

A happy event--Death of Lord Elgin--Agricultural Exhibition--

Sittana--Spring sickness--Sanitary Commission formed--General

news--Indigo--Cyclone--History of “Masterly inactivity.”

Administrative duties in the Western Military District of England, of

which Devonport was, and still is, the Headquarters, were peaceful,

and so contrasted with events during the past few years, as already

recorded. In due time--the first for several years--I applied for and

obtained the usual two months’ leave accorded annually to officers

serving at home. With my wife I proceeded to Paris, where time passed

agreeably and profitably in visiting places of historical, artistic,

and scientific interest, and in exploring public buildings and

monuments with which that very beautiful city abounds.

On that occasion the French capital was _en fête_, the King of Holland

being on a visit to Napoleon the Third; military displays on a grand

scale the order of the day. One such display being arranged to take

place at Versailles, we joined the crowds proceeding thither from St.

Lazare. Having visited the château and its surroundings, we had the

opportunity, while in the latter, of meeting the young Prince Imperial,

then little more than seven years old, as he rode a small pony,

accompanied and guarded by a group of attendants. Within the château we

visited the various salons open to the public, among them the Salon de

la Guerre and Grande Galerie des Glaces, little thinking as we did so

that they were to be revisited under very different circumstances.

An important “function,” at which we “assisted,” was a grand review

at the Champ de Mars, where 40,000 troops paraded for the purpose,

accompanied by an imposing military train, and an efficient-looking

pontoon train. The precision with which the various battalions and

other bodies of troops took up their assigned positions was striking,

giving to a looker-on the impression of a high state of efficiency.

With the Champ de Mars I was to become unpleasantly acquainted eight

years subsequently.

During our visit an incident took place which may be mentioned in

these notes. While at the _table d’hôte_[243] one morning I got into

conversation with a lady whose seat adjoined my own. In the course of

talk the subject of the late expedition to China being alluded to, she

mentioned the name of the officer whose death at Hong-Kong has been

already recorded. I related to her some of the particulars already

given, among others his request that I should destroy the mysterious

parcel, and the fulfilment by me of that his dying request. As I did

so, the lady seemed surprised; she informed me that her daughter, then

seated at her left side, had been engaged to Captain M----, and she

doubted not that the parcel in question contained the letters of the

fair _fiancée_, whose health had given way, and on whose account both

were now travelling.

A short but very pleasant visit over, I took leave of the fascinating

capital, little thinking of the conditions under which my acquaintance

with it was to become more intimate a few years thereafter. On our

homeward journey a short stay was made at Rouen. To us that city had

several points of interest, including its traditional association

with the closing scene in the life of Joan of Arc, with its attendant

barbarities; and as the capital whence William started on his conquest

of England, the Caserne de Bonnes Nouvelles now occupying the site of

the palace where Matilda received “the good news” of that conquest.

Interesting also in that its cathedral contains the heart of Richard

Cœur de Lion, together with a monument to that monarch. But the edifice

which seemed to us the architectural gem was the church of St. Ouen,

dating, it was said, from A.D. 533, and in its present form from 1318;

with its numerous windows of stained glass, its western portal and

arcade, its sculptured vase, from the surface of the “holy” water

contained in which a reflected view is seen of the roof through its

entire extent, including the exquisite workmanship of its ornamentation.

Returned to duty at Devonport, an intimation soon reached me that I

was again to proceed on foreign service. A few days sufficed to make

the necessary arrangements for my dear wife, who, with the children,

must be left behind. Then came in quick succession orders to embark

for Calcutta; then the very painful ordeal of leave-taking; then

embarkation at Southampton on board the P. and O. ss. _Ripon_,

September 4, 1862, and away from England for a sixth tour abroad.

Arrived at Calcutta, I was appointed to administrative charge of the

Presidency and Benares divisions, the duties connected with the former

including charge of the office of Inspector-General, and inspections

of all ships arriving or departing with troops, all those combined

functions being of a much more arduous nature than at the time I was

able to appreciate.

The cold season had set in, and with its advent the usual influx of

higher officials to the Indian capital. Lord Elgin, recently appointed

Governor-General, carried with him sympathetic feeling towards those

who had lately served in China, and in this spirit extended his

civility to myself, as to some others who had but lately arrived.

It was while partaking of Viceregal hospitality that I met Admiral

Sir James Hope, who had given such material help to the hospital for

Chinese we had established at Tientsin. With him I discussed the

question mooted in China of establishing at Nagasaki a sanatorium for

invalid soldiers and sailors employed at various places on, and in

vessels off, the coast; but, as I think unfortunately for both those

classes, the proposal never came to anything.

The unusual _mélange_ of subjects which gave rise to comment in

Calcutta at the same time was in its way remarkable. The ex-King

of Delhi had very recently died at Rangoon. The King of Greece was

reported to have abdicated, and together with his queen fled from his

kingdom. A crisis had occurred in Prussia. The Emperor of Austria was

about to be crowned as King of Hungary. In America, a Proclamation

had declared the emancipation of the slaves, various reports reaching

us of threatened risings and other complications as outcomes of that

measure. In the columns of some English journals, strong comments with

regard to British policy in China in taking military action against

the Taiping rebels. In Japan, a revolution, the city of Yedo destroyed

by the insurgents. In the Straits of Corea, the Russians induced to

abandon the island, of which they had quietly taken possession during

the earlier stages of the Anglo-French expedition against China.

Garibaldi wounded; a consultation of surgeons as to whether the bullet

was in the wound or not--one would think, not a very difficult enigma

to solve by men of experience in the field. The coming of age of the

Prince of Wales, together with the honours and promotions announced on

that auspicious occasion. The nomination of Prince Alfred to the throne

of Greece. The proposed mediation by France between the Northern and

Southern States of America, and failure of that attempt. The endeavours

made to diminish as far as possible difficulties into which Lancashire

weavers had fallen. Such are a few of the outside matters to which

conversation in Calcutta was directed.

Among those more nearly connected with India was the report contained

in the home papers of the Court-Martial--at the time notorious--having

reference to the circumstances under which the death took place of the

Sergeant-Major of the 6th Dragoons at Mhow. A very unpleasant incident

at a Service Club was the subject of comment; the action taken with

regard to it by the officer in chief command being discussed in terms

more energetic than flattering. Towards the end of the cold season the

ceremony took place of consecrating the well at Cawnpore into which

were thrown the victims of the saddest of all sad episodes connected

with the Mutiny of 1857.

There seemed to be a lull in the current of events in India; but not

in those relating to various European nations, and to America. The

insurrection which for some time past has been in progress in Poland

was said to have assumed increased proportions. In England, the

approaching marriage of the Prince of Wales was the subject of loyal

excitement throughout the country. In America renewed endeavours to

bring about cessation of the Civil War had so far proved futile.

With the advance of the hot season came the usual influx of sick

officers from the interior, on their way home if possible, or to

be treated in the hospital provided for their care by the Indian

Government. Among them the story of one was very sad, and at the

same time illustrative of that of many others. Brought to a hotel,

together with his wife, a girl in age, he was found, when first seen

by a medical officer, to be dying, consciousness all but gone; his

wife unaware of his actual condition; both without friend or even

acquaintance in Calcutta. There was no time for delay or ceremony. I

accordingly informed her at once how desperate was his state, asking at

the same time if she knew what was the position of his worldly affairs.

Her reply: “Not more than the child unborn.” I led her to the couch of

the expiring man, and asked directly, “Where is your will?” He muttered

rather than intelligibly expressed a reply, which seemed, however, to

give his young wife the requisite indication. Within an hour thereafter

he was dead. The widow and her infant had to be left for the time being

in the apartment immediately adjoining that in which lay the corpse of

her husband, until, with the Indian hospitality of that day, a resident

family were communicated with, and sent their carriage for her and her

infant; both of whom were cared for until arrangements were completed,

and the bereaved ones some weeks thereafter sailed for England.

A good deal of talk was current in reference to two noted State trials

of chiefs who had taken an active part in murders and other atrocities

committed in connection with the Mutiny, but who had only recently come

within the clutches of the law, notably at Lucknow and Bombay. At this

time emissaries of the Nana were believed to be actively at work, the

general impression being that he was alive and in Nepaul, whence he

continued to issue instructions to sympathisers.

The near prospect of the canal across the Isthmus of Suez being

completed, as well as some other considerations, led to a

reconsideration by the authorities of the general question relating

to the transport of troops between England and India, and _vice

versâ_. Experience had recently shown the inconvenience and military

objections against the long sea route _via_ the Cape, including the

long period during which to all intents and purposes troops in transit

are non-effective. Statistics had so far been unfavourable in regard to

the results obtained by sending to hill “sanatoria” soldiers suffering

from organic illness. These circumstances were deemed of sufficient

importance to justify inquiry into the whole matter, the outcome of the

investigation being a scheme in accordance with which a line of Indian

troopships was some time thereafter established.

Several circumstances combined to occupy public as well as official

attention. The death of Dost Mahomed was followed by fratricidal wars

between his sons; these conflicts were to continue during the next

few years, and become historically interesting because of the policy

of “masterly inactivity” observed towards the contending parties.

Relations between England and Russia were in a strained condition; with

Japan so unsatisfactory that the dispatch thither of a military force

was contemplated. A certain amount of excitement was kept alive by

rumours, more or less plausible, that the Nana was alive and active;

first one suspect and then another was captured, but only to be set at

liberty by judicial authority.

The dispatch of the 43rd Light Infantry for service in New Zealand

was in Calcutta looked upon as quite an important event; arrangements

for transport presented no difficulty whatever, but it was impossible

to provide the regiment with equipment of a kind suitable for the

service on which they were proceeding, for however well adapted for

the circumstances of India is that authorized by regulations of the

country, it is ill adapted for others in which camels and elephants as

beasts of burthen are unobtainable.

From different parts of India came reports of disaffection,

while from some, including Sittana, came accounts of actual

outbreaks--_fanatical_, they were called. Early in October information

reached us that under Admiral Kuper the British fleet had opened fire

upon and destroyed the forts at Kagosima, though not without heavy loss

to his own officers and men. Orders had been issued in England for the

dispatch of reinforcements thither, and instructions to the same effect

have been received by the Government of India.

In course of duty I visited the several stations within the divisions

already named at which British troops were quartered, renewing

acquaintance with places formerly well known, and connected with which

were various associations, pleasant and otherwise. Of such places

were the jungle road leading from Arrah to Jugdispore, so familiar in

connection with service there; Beehea, where our force was suddenly

attacked by Koer Singh’s rebel sepoys; Jounpore, through the streets of

which city in dead of night our field force marched towards what proved

to be a somewhat severe action at Teegra, listening as we proceeded

to the sound of “grinders” at their “mills,” by which alone silence

was broken; Azimghur, with the compound in which under fire from sepoy

rifles we bivouacked, the line of march, and scene of action by our

force against the besieging mutineers.

On that tour of inspection duty the journey from Dinapore to Darjeeling

was attended by incidents of which the following are examples:--A

hitch and consequent delay in regard to transit arrangements; several

hours by railway train; a night spent in a wattle-and-daub hut called

a dâk bungalow; twenty odd miles by steamer on the Ganges; starting by

palanqueen; a break-down; return on foot several miles to the place

whence I had so proceeded; delay and trouble in obtaining another

conveyance of the same kind; another start; a short rest in the house

of a hospitable civil servant; then on by raised causeway through a

long tract of swampy ground; rowed across a broad nullah, and then

the land journey resumed. After a little the discovery was made that

the carrier of the luggage had dropped out of sight, nor could his

whereabouts be discovered. On arriving at the “stage” where a relay of

bearers was expected, there were none in waiting; the old ones heavily

bribed continued, but at a slow pace, with many intervals to rest and

indulge in smoking. Two more stages had to be got over in much the same

manner, and then on reaching the rest house at the foot of the ascent

towards Darjeeling, no provision whatever had been made for progress

onward. Starting on foot, some four or five miles were got over, when

meeting a native leading a small horse, or tat, bare backed, without

halter or other substitute than a rope around its neck, I mounted

the animal, but unable to guide it, had to resume walking, and so in

time got over twenty out of the thirty miles that separate Punkabaree

from the popular hill station. Railway transit between Calcutta and

Darjeeling was in the far future.

In the near vicinity of Darjeeling numerous hillmen were employed

improving and remodelling the road along which my walk lay. The

general aspect presented by them was miserable and unpleasant. Tartar

in feature and costume, the majority distinguished by _queue_ or

“pigtail”; many affected with goitre, others with large foul ulcers on

legs or feet, unprotected by dressing of any kind,--the ulcers said to

result from wounds inflicted by a poisonous fly abundantly met with

here and hereabout.

In the early hours of the following morning a magnificent view of the

snowy range, including the peaks of Mount Everest and Kinchinjunga was

obtained, all reflecting brilliantly the first rays of sunlight, but

later on becoming obscured by mist.

An experimental station for troops had some few years previously been

established at Sinchal, situated on a mountain spur about a thousand

feet higher than Darjeeling itself. Thither I went in course of duty,

but only to learn how hateful the place was to officers and men

quartered there, isolated, and for the most part concealed in cloud

or mist as it was, the atmosphere damp, cold, and chilly. That the

experiment was a failure was evident, but some time had yet to elapse

before it was so acknowledged officially, and abandoned.

Situated in a deep valley, ten or twelve miles from Darjeeling, and at

a level of four thousand feet below that station, are the mineral wells

of Nunsook; the intervening spurs and ranges for the most part under

cultivation with tea, coffee, or cinchona. Between us and the wells the

Rungnoo River rushed in curling foam along its rocky bed, leaping as

it went, as a cascade of considerable height and volume. Crossing that

stream by a wooden bridge, then ascending among the rocks to a little

distance, we reached the object of our journey. So deep and narrow is

the mountain rent in which the chalybeate spring issues from the rock,

that sunlight reaches it during no more than two hours daily. In its

immediate neighbourhood was a hut in which a few British soldiers were

accommodated, also “experimentally” to test the beneficial qualities of

the spring. No wonder that they wished themselves with their regiment,

or anywhere except at the well of Nunsook.

Another excursion was to the valley of the Rungeet River, some fourteen

miles distant from Darjeeling, and forming the boundary between

British India and Sikkim. The descent is steep; as we proceeded we met

numbers of hillmen toiling upwards, bearing heavy loads in _kalbas_

or baskets upon their backs--women were similarly engaged--the goods

so carried consisting in a great part of borax, spices, and other

“fragrant” substances, including asafœtida,--some of the people so fair

that a rosy tint was on their faces. As we descended into the deep

and narrow valley the snowy range, at first so prominent an object,

became lost to view, precipices shut us in on either side, trees of

great size rising from ledges or projecting from crevices. The Rungeet

rushed as a large green-coloured stream along its rugged bed, at short

intervals curling in white foam as it eddied around rocks or leaped

in cascades over ledges; at a short distance from where we now were

it joins the Rungnoo, the united stream so formed being the Teesta,

which finally discharges itself into the Brahmapootra. Crossing the

Rungeet by what seemed a very frail and unsteady bridge of cane,[244]

we arrived in Sikkim, the span of the construction by which we did so

being two hundred feet, the roaring torrent rushing beneath us. Such

was the character of one part of the sphere in which in 1861 military

operations had to be conducted against that region, including the

transport of guns and supplies.

The return journey from Darjeeling was in some respects little less

unpleasant than that to it had been. Arrived at Raneegunge, it became

necessary to proceed towards the station of Hazarabagh, and for that

purpose to take “garry” along some part of the Grand Trunk Road,

by which in 1859 I had marched with the 10th Foot when _en route_

for England. In the course of that journey crowds of pilgrims were

encountered, each bearing upon his forehead the distinctive mark of

the Hindoo sect to which he belonged, and carrying the pilgrim’s gourd

so familiar to us in mediæval pictures; all were devout in aspect and

manner; some performing penance by crawling on hands and knees--a mode

of progression by which the distance daily got over by them was said to

be about one mile. And yet the majority of them had come from Ajudiah

(Fyzabad), and were on their way to Juggurnath.

Two days thereafter I traversed a flight of locusts. Seen from a

distance the mass looked somewhat like a snow shower in a clear

sunshiny day, the apparent breadth of the flight over a mile, its

length six or eight; the road and bare soil on either side completely

covered by those that had fallen or alighted; the sound made by those

still on the wing distinct and rustling. The conditions alluded to in

this and the preceding paragraph illustrate those which existed while

railways were in their early stages.

The arrival of my beloved wife on December 13 was an event to be

chronicled, though for the time being a boarding-house was the

substitute for the _home_ to which I could take her. Like so many other

ladies similarly situated, she had to place her children at school

as best she could, and then take leave of them to join her husband

in India. The necessity of so parting with one’s children is one of

the greatest drawbacks of service in India, or indeed anywhere in the

tropics; it is lamented by all who are affected by it, and by none

more than by ourselves. And yet it is unavoidable. Various instances

illustrative of unsatisfactory results arising out of this necessity

occur to the mind of most men of experience, not the least being that

sons and daughters are thrown more or less at haphazard upon those

whose method and manner of training is destined to determine the style

of their own lives and the relations in which they are to stand with

their parents.

The somewhat sudden death of Lord Elgin, while on tour, was followed

by very general expression of sympathy; among those who had been

associated with him in China, and so had opportunities of estimating

his amiable and upright character, the sentiment was one of regret and

esteem. But in India, as elsewhere--_le Roi est mort; Vive le Roi_.

Sir John Lawrence arrived from England ere many weeks were over; was

received by a guard of honor; duly sworn in, and matters official

proceeded in their ordinary course.

For the first time, and as an experiment, an Agricultural Exhibition

was organized and took place. The variety of animals brought from all

parts of British India was great; so was that of native contributors

and visitors; but there was reason to believe that lively interest on

the part of the latter was sadly lacking; they thought of the entire

proceeding in the light of a mere _tomashah_, or “hubbub,” and nothing

more.

In the further north,--namely, on the Sittana frontier,--the “rising”

among some tribes of that region had just been suppressed; that

favourable end attained in part by means of a military expedition, in

part by persuasion, otherwise diplomacy.

Experience had long taught residents in Lower Bengal that the period

of early spring is that when cholera is most to be dreaded, alike in

respect to the suddenness of its attack and its fatality. The 55th

Regiment, recently arrived and temporarily encamped at Raneegunge,

became somewhat severely attacked by that scourge. Various instances of

sudden death occurred from the same cause among old Calcutta residents,

and the health of others began to droop; among them my wife.

Soon after the direct government of India had been assumed by the

Crown, a Royal Commission was appointed to inquire into sanitary

questions relating chiefly to the British troops in that dependency,

and also to the native population, whether in cities, villages, or

rural districts; their deliberations were necessarily protracted.

In due course their report was published, and now the new

Governor-General issued the necessary orders for the appointment, in

Calcutta, of a Commission to give effect to their recommendations,

familiarly referred to as the Thirty-nine Articles, that being their

number. On that Commission I was appointed to serve.[245] It began

its labours with enthusiasm, in the belief that by measures to be

recommended by it the havoc by sickness and death to which our troops

had been subject during the long period of our hold on India were to

be materially lessened, their condition generally improved. At this

date the number of soldiers required to fill the vacancies so caused

amounted to 240 per week, and this we hoped to reduce considerably.

Among the Wahabees[246] of India there existed widespread spirit of

disaffection, Patna and Dacca being two important centres of its

propagation. From Europe came news of war between Denmark on the one

hand, Austria and Prussia on the other; the combined armies being

in occupation of Schleswig. That America had claimed from England

indemnity for losses inflicted by the _Alabama_[247] on the plea that

as “290” she was built in a British dockyard. The request of the Pekin

Government for British officers to act against the Taipings being

acceded to, the list of those so “lent” included the name of Major C.

G. Gordon, R.E., whose remarkable career had thus its starting point.

From New Zealand came, unhappily, news of misfortune to the regiment

recently dispatched from Calcutta to take part against the Maoris.

On the invitation of a friend[248] we proceeded to his indigo factory,

and so had an opportunity of obtaining some interesting particulars

with regard to that industry, the actual origin of which in India,

seems to have been due to civil servants of the East India Company.

South America is the region to which the growth and manufacture of

the plant and dye originally pertained. When introduced into India,

the cultivators grew it simply at the request of the civilian in

his particular district, and for the profit of the latter; after a

time overseers were employed, but as in those days the presence of

“interlopers” was discouraged by the local government, the class of

persons employed was not such as to exert upon the natives that moral

influence which would have been beneficial as it was desirable. This

state of things after a time gave place to a better; the presence

of adventurers, as all who belonged not to the Indian service were

called, had to be recognised, and so the indigo industry fell into

the hands of men belonging to the middle class of British society.

Then came what has ever since been looked upon as class legislation,

the effect of which is considered to have been friction and disaccord

between cultivators and planters.

One of the most severe hurricanes recorded in this part of India

occurred on the night of October 7; the devastation caused by it on

land, at sea, and in the river Hooghly, being great and extensive. Off

Calcutta ships were driven from their moorings and wrecked; in some

instances in tiers. So high did the storm-wave rise that the river

overflowed the high embankment, carrying with it one or two vessels,

one of which was left stranded near the Botanic Gardens; many houses

were damaged, some completely destroyed; trees in all directions were

prostrated, among them the once famous “duelling tree,” under the shade

of which in early morning “meetings” took place in days not long past,

and “honour” was satisfied--at the distance of twelve paces.

Regarding hurricanes, the first of which definite record is available

swept over Calcutta in 1737. An extremely violent one happened in 1821,

on which occasion the storm-wave covered Saugor Island, destroying

immense numbers of people, cattle, and wild animals. Another took place

in 1842, then in 1851, and now in 1864, indicating something like a

cycle, varying from eleven to thirteen years between their occurrence.

The significance of some among the public events alluded to in the

preceding notes transpired in years subsequent to their actual

occurrence; the following brief summary relating to the chief

performers in that drama is accordingly given here. From the death

of Dost Mahomed,[249] in June, 1863, till September, 1868, his third

son, Sheer Ali Khan, who, with the sanction of the Government of

India, succeeded him on the throne of Affghanistan, passed through

a very stormy time. His two elder brothers, Afzul and Azim, and his

nephew, Abdur Rahman (the present ruler), were in revolt against

him. His favourite son and heir-apparent, Ali Khan, was killed in

action in 1865. In 1866 he was defeated near Ghazni by Abdar Rahman,

who released his father, Afzul, from prison, into which he had been

cast by Sheer Ali, led him in triumph to Cabul, and proclaimed him

Amir of Affghanistan. Afzul at once wrote to the Government of India,

expressing a hope that as such the friendship of the British would be

extended to him. He was informed in reply that the Government of Sir

John Lawrence recognised him only as Ruler of Cabul; that as Sheer

Ali held Kandahar and Herat, existing engagements with the latter

could not be broken off. Afzul and Azim thereupon directed the Waziri

chiefs in attendance at Court, together with the envoy, who had come

from Swat to pay respects to the new Amir, to set on foot a holy war

against the English, while an emissary was sent on a secret mission to

Russia. In 1867 Sheer Ali was again defeated near Khelat-i-Ghilsie,

and lost Kandahar. On this fact being communicated to the Government

of India, Afzul Khan was in his turn recognised as Amir of Cabul and

Kandahar, Sir John Lawrence at the same time informing him that the

British Government intended to maintain a strict neutrality between

the contending parties in Affghanistan. This policy on the part of the

Governor-General was at the time called, often in sarcastic terms,

“masterly inactivity.”[250] Under the circumstances of the time,

such public opinion as found expression in Calcutta approved of the

policy in question. But neither to Afzul nor Azim was that policy

satisfactory. They sent a copy of the letter conveying the decision

of Sir John Lawrence to the Russian Governor of Tashkend, who was

informed by Afzul that he had no confidence in the “Lord Sahib’s” fine

professions of friendship; that he was disgusted with the British

Government for the ingratitude and ill-treatment shown towards his

brother Azim, who, it was asserted, had encouraged his father, Dost

Mahomed Khan, not to disturb the Peshawur frontier during the Mutiny.

Recollections of Thirty-nine Years in the Army Gwalior and the Battle of Maharajpore, 1843; the Gold Coast of Africa, 1847-48; the Indian Mutiny, 1857-58; the expedition to China, 1860-61; the Siege of Paris, 1870-71; etc. · 第 23 / 36 章