CHAPTER VIII.

The Task before Sir Colin Campbell--Disaster at

Arrah--Relief by Major Eyre--Attempted Surprise at

Agra--Short, sharp work--The Mutiny in Oude--Relief of

Lucknow by Sir Colin Campbell--The Fighting--Withdrawal of

the Garrison--Return to Cawnpore--General Windham in

difficulties--Nana Sahib defeated--Lucknow again invested,

and again Relieved--Sikhs and Ghoorkas fighting on our

side--Death of Captain Hodson--Flying Columns Formed--Our

Loss in following the Mutineers--The Proclamation of

Pardon--Disarming the Native Troops--The Mutineers at

Meean-Meer--Jack Ketch and his Victims--The Outbreak on the

Frontier in 1858--The 7th Royal Fusiliers at

Peshawur--Native Thieves--A Forced March--Encounter with the

Enemy--A Truce--Hostilities Resumed--Bravery of the

Ghoorkas--The Fusiliers return to Ferozepore--March to

Saugor (Central India)--Ravages of Cholera--Personal Opinion

as to the Natives of India--The Ways, Manners, and Customs

of the People--Taking the Census--The Steps taken to prevent

another Mutiny.--Letters from India.

By the fall of Delhi, and the capture of the great Mogul King and his

black-hearted murdering villains of sons, the Mutiny received its death

blow. Still there were thousands and tens of thousands of the Mutineers

who had not as yet been confronted by stern justice. The rebels had been

routed from their stronghold, and, if they had not been so divided in

their counsels, would have caused us much more trouble than they did;

all they wanted was some one with power to organize them. It has been

estimated that some 25,000,000 of Natives were thrown into a state of

agitation between Calcutta and Allahabad, so the task before Sir Colin

Campbell was no light one. After the fall of Delhi, movable columns were

formed and sent in pursuit of the enemy, and no end of little battles or

skirmishes were fought. Knowing well that they were fighting with

halters round their necks, so to speak, the Mutineers fought as only

madmen will fight, but to little purpose, for the steady determined rush

of the thin red line was too much for them. Our people made good use of

the rifles the rebels had so much despised, and all that stood in the

way were made short work of; the remainder would bolt, as our cousins

across the Atlantic say, "like a well-greased flash of lightning," and

it was no use poking about in the dark after them.

We had, however, one very disagreeable lesson at Arrah towards the end

of July, 1857. A mixed force of about 450 Europeans and Sikhs was sent

to relieve that place, and, making a forced march in the dark, fell into

an ambuscade, and lost 290 men in a very short time. The news flew fast,

and our loss was magnified fifty-fold, but their boasting lies did not

live long. Major Eyre was soon upon their track, and, routing them,

relieved the little garrison of Sikhs that had held out so nobly. The

enemy now began to lose all heart, and, but for the inroads that

cholera, dysentery, fever, sunstroke, and apoplexy were making in our

ranks, the Mutiny would have been crushed before a single Crimean

regiment got up country; for our men were worked up to a state of

frenzy, and burned to avenge the blood of our outraged countrywomen. Not

a day passed but news of more butcheries kept reaching their ears. The

enemy attempted a surprise at Agra. Our troops had just come in from a

long fatiguing march, when they had the audacity to attack our camp, but

got such a mauling from our mud-crushers and Artillery that they soon

bolted. Our Cavalry got at them; and the 9th Lancers and Horse Artillery

chased them for miles, regardless of the terrible heat, destroying some

600 of them. It had a wonderful effect upon the "budmashes" (bad men,

low characters) of Agra, who kept very quiet; for a Native had not to

open his mouth very wide in 1857-8 before he had a ball put into it, or

was strung up to the nearest tree, and then tried afterwards. Had we

stood upon ceremony, India was gone. As it was, we hovered between life

and death, and consequently sharp remedies were required.

THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW.

Thus far the enemy had been settled; and Sir Colin Campbell, who was now

Commander-in-chief of the army in India, was determined not to give them

breathing time. Troops were pushed up country as fast as they landed.

Lucknow had been relieved to a certain extent by that Christian hero,

Havelock, but it was still hemmed-in by overwhelming numbers of the

enemy. The whole of Oude had joined the Mutineers, and the Delhi

gentlemen were making their way thither as fast as their legs could

carry them. But Major-General Sir James Outram had quite sufficient men

with him to make the enemy keep at a respectful distance from him. Sir

Colin was determined to make Lucknow a hot corner, and to relieve it if

possible. Accordingly, a compact little force was collected at Cawnpore

in November, 1857, consisting of the following regiments: 8th, 42nd,

53rd, 75th, 93rd, 2nd and 4th Punjaub Infantry, 9th Lancers, 1st, 2nd,

and 5th Punjaub Cavalry; Naval Brigade under Captain Peel, and

Artillery, Horse and Field Batteries. The total force, including those

already there, amounted to about 18,500--all ranks. The enemy, confident

in their strength, were determined to face us. A strong force was sent

on ahead to the Alum Bagh, with provisions for Sir J. Outram's people.

Our men had to fight their way to the Residency; but the Enfield rifle,

that had been so much despised by the rebels, mowed them down by

wholesale. They then took refuge behind stone walls; between 2,000 and

3,000 of them got into a place called the Secunder-Bagh (King's Garden).

This place was surrounded by high and very thick walls, and a heavy fire

was kept up upon our people from it. The Artillery were brought up, but

the light field guns could make no impression--the shot re-bounded from

the walls as if they had been of india rubber. Sir Colin could not stand

this. The heavy 68-pounders were then brought up, manned by sailors,

under command of that noble Crimean hero, Captain Peel, R.N. They

brought their guns into action as though they had been laying their

frigate, 'The Shannon,' alongside an enemy. The massive walls soon

crumbled beneath their ponderous fire, and a breach was made. Sir Colin

said a few words to the 93rd Highlanders that were to storm it, and then

they were ordered forward. It was a race between the 4th Sikhs and the

Highlanders. The gallant Sikhs got the start, but Scotia proved a little

too nimble for them. The first man who entered the breach was the

Sergeant-Major of the 93rd. This brave fellow bounded through like a

deer, and met a soldier's death before he had touched the ground; but

hundreds were close behind him. The fighting inside was desperate, but

the Mutineers were cringing cowards. Some of them threw down their

weapons, and on bended knees, with hands upraised in supplication,

begged for mercy; but the only answer they got was "Cawnpore" hissed m

their faces, followed by about twelve or fifteen inches of cold steel!

Retribution had overtaken them, and death held fearful sway in that

beautiful garden; for the slain lay in heaps in terrible confusion,

mixed with roses and other sweet-smelling flowers as if in derision.

Upwards of 2,000 of the rebels were counted next morning, nearly all of

whom had died by the bayonet. We, too, had suffered heavily, for some

of the Mutineers fought like madmen, when they found there was no back

door open.

* * * * *

The enemy defended the "Shah-Nujeef" (a large tomb) with desperation.

But again the 93rd Highlanders and Sikhs were let loose, and with a wild

shout it was carried by the queen of weapons. There again the enemy lay

in ghastly piles in and around that charnel-house. They made another

determined stand at a place called the Mess House--a large Native

building in the shape of a castle, with a deep ditch around it. After

bombarding it for several hours, our people went at it, the Highlanders

again leading, side by side with the 53rd and our friends the Sikhs, who

would not be second to any.

* * * * *

The Residency was now close at hand; our men having cut their way

through a host to relieve their unfortunate countrymen and countrywomen.

The commanders met and arranged their plans; and, under a terrible fire

of shot, shell, and rockets, which Sir Colin opened upon the enemy to

attract their attention in an opposite direction, withdrew the noble

little garrison that had fought so well, night and day, for near five

long months. Sir Colin laid his plans so well, and they were carried out

so accurately, that not a hair of one of the unfortunate women or

children was touched. They were, so to speak, taken from the jaws of the

tiger without his knowing it, and conveyed to a place of safety. In

delivering the imprisoned half-starved garrison, we had lost 45 officers

and near 500 men. Our men, as I have often said, are at all times ready

to enter upon the most hazardous enterprizes to uphold the honour of our

flag. In this case ladies' and children's lives were in jeopardy; and

what won't a brave man do or dare to rescue those who are dear to him?

Sir Colin was determined to leave Lucknow for a time, and Sir James

Outram was selected to remain behind in a strong position with 3,500

troops, and plenty of food for several months.

GENERAL WINDHAM OVERMATCHED.

We now shaped our way back to Cawnpore; but before our force could reach

it, news came that the hero of the Redan, General Windham, was more than

overmatched by strong bodies of the enemy. He had with him a little over

2,000 upon whom he could rely; whilst a force of upwards of 25,000 of

the Gwalior contingent, and others who had thrown in their lot with the

rebels, came down upon him. It is not for me to criticize this brave

soldier's actions or generalship. He had on former fields proved his

metal, and was acknowledged to be the bravest of the brave; for no man

could have led a storming party with greater coolness or more dash, than

General Windham led the stormers at the Great Redan, on the 8th

September, 1855. The enemy at Cawnpore gained a partial victory; but the

"hero of a hundred fights"--Sir Colin Campbell--was close at hand, with

men who never stop to count numbers. After placing the women and

children in safety, Sir Colin's eagle eye soon detected the enemy's weak

point and at them he went. The fiend Nana Sahib commanded the enemy,

who, although flushed with victory, were driven in headlong confusion

from the field. They were completely routed, leaving all their guns

(between thirty and forty) in our hands. For months (December, 1857,

January, February, and part of March, 1858), small columns, from 2,500

to 6,000 strong, were hunting the enemy down all over Bengal. Grim

justice was staring the rebels in the face. Our people did not trouble

to seek for a suitable gallows, so long as there was a tree close by. To

have shown the rebels any kindness would have been looked upon as

weakness, but when once it was found that we had crushed the movement,

then we could, and did, show mercy to thousands of these poor deluded

wretches.

LUCKNOW AGAIN INVESTED

Meanwhile the rebels had been collecting in great numbers in and around

Lucknow, and Sir James Outram had all he could do to hold his own

against the repeated attacks of their overwhelming hordes. Lucknow

contained at this time (March, 1858), a vast host in arms against us.

Its population exceeded 300,000, thousands of whom were in arms, and

determined to fight it out to the bitter end. The Insurgents had

collected in numbers--computed at from 35,000 to 60,000 men; and some

50,000 or 60,000 of the Oude people had joined them; while every corner

had been extensively fortified, there being upwards of 100 guns in

position, beside field guns. Thus Sir Colin Campbell had no light task

before him. But this gallant old hero knew well how to play his cards.

After rolling up the enemy in all parts of the country with movable

columns, he suddenly collected at Cawnpore and its vicinity some of the

best regiments in our service--men who had been well proved on many a

field--and with these forces he was determined to rout the boasting

enemy out of their stronghold. The following regiments composed his

army:--The 2nd Dragoon Guards or Bays; 7th Hussars, 9th Lancers,

Hodson's Horse, Sikh Cavalry, some fifty guns, and the 8th, 10th, 20th,

23rd, 34th, 38th, 42nd, 53rd, 75th, 79th, 82nd, 84th, 93rd, 97th, 101st,

and 102nd regiments, two battalions of the Rifle Brigade, a good strong

brigade of the Blue Jackets, and some 25,000 Natives, including

Ghoorkas--men who were loyal to the backbone, and had often vied with

our people for the post of honour. The forces in front of Sir Colin,

under Sir James Outram at the Alum-Bagh, consisted of the 5th Fusiliers,

64th, 78th, 90th, and a number of loyal Natives, and all helped to

co-operate in the final attack. The enemy fought with desperation from

behind their stone walls; but Jack's 68-pounders soon brought the

bricks, stones, and mortar, about their ears, and they were then pitched

or ejected out of the forts and batteries with the queen of weapons;

whilst our nimble little friends, the Ghoorkas, did not forget to use

their favourite deadly weapon--the knife.

For days the rebels clung with the tenacity of despair to every post

until it was made completely untenable. Meanwhile our Cavalry were not

idle, for as fast as the Mutineers came out of their hiding places they

fell beneath swords wielded by English arms, or succumbed to the deadly

thrusts of our troopers' spears or lances. But before they entirely

evacuated the city, the principal places where they had taken refuge had

to be stormed. In some large buildings which had been converted into

forts, the enemy had made up their minds to die, and here they fought as

only fanatics or madmen will fight or die. Jung Bahador's Ghoorkas

taught the Mutineers, the murderers of defenceless women and children,

some very salutary lessons, which, however, they never lived to talk

about; and the Sikhs vied with them in destroying all that came in their

way. There were no prisoners or wounded; this was a war of retribution,

and all who opposed us--whether Mutineers or those who sided with

them--met a traitor's death.

One of the noblest soldiers that ever fought under our flag (Captain

Hodson) fell in the taking of the Kaiser Bagh. This officer was he who

captured the King of Delhi and his sons. He had been in at least fifty

different fights--all through the Punjaub campaign--and the Sutlej

campaign against the Sikhs At the breaking out of the Mutiny, he

obtained permission from the Government to raise a strong regiment of

Afghans, with whom he marched down to Delhi, and there did good service,

for those men would go anywhere with their beloved chief, and when he

fell they cried like children who had lost a fond father.

The rebels were at last dislodged from their strongholds, but a small

body of them still held the Moosa Bagh, about four miles from Lucknow,

whence Sir Colin was determined to oust or destroy them. Accordingly two

strong Infantry brigades, with about 1500 Cavalry, and some 30 guns went

at them, and they were dislodged in masterly style. It was at this place

that a strong body of the enemy, dressed in clean white robes and armed

with shields and sharp swords, sallied forth, headed by their Doroger,

(priest or head man), an enormous fellow. They had all received a

blessing, and were prepared to die. They had plenty of bhang (country

liquor) poured down their throats to give them courage, and they fought

with an utter contempt of death, cutting down our gunners at the guns.

The 7th Hussars were at once brought up and sent at them, but a number

were unhorsed and killed. The Highlanders then went at them, and

destroyed them to a man. The enemy now broke up and dispersed. Some

20,000 of them made their way to Fyzabad, and other places.

FORMATION OF FLYING COLUMNS.

Columns were next formed under various officers, namely Hope Grant,

Brigadiers Russell, Horsford, Kelley, Harcourt, Rawcroft, and others.

But to go into details of the different fights that took place

throughout Central India, with these columns and those under Sir R.

Napier (now Lord Napier), Sir H. Rose (now Lord Strathearn), Colonel

Whitelock, and others, would require a larger book than I intend to

write. Our loss in following up the enemy from sunstrokes and apoplexy

was fearful, although as much marching was done at night as possible.

There was the enemy, and our commanders would admit of no excuse or

delay; they must be got at, and the command was continually--"Forward!

Men, the honour of our flag is at stake." Our guns would sometimes stick

so fast in mud, that they could not be extricated by horses. At times as

many as twenty horses would be attached to one gun, and the longer it

remained the deeper it sank. Then that massive animal, the elephant,

would be brought into requisition, while the horses all stood on one

side. One of these noble creatures of the forest would put his head and

trunk to the gun, whilst another would pull at the traces, and walk off

with it without any apparent exertion. We must have left a number of our

heavy guns behind had it not been for these sagacious animals.

THE END OF THE REBELLION.

The enemy's heart for fighting had been broken, or, in other words, the

conceit about fighting had been all thrashed out of them by the end of

1858; and in marching after them we lost far more men from the effects

of the sun than from actual conflict. They could run well, but fighting

was out of the question, and consequently we had to run them down. They

were intercepted at all points, and in trying to escape one column, they

were almost sure to fall in with another. As soon as the proclamation of

pardon was issued to all who had not been guilty of murdering

defenceless women and children, men came in by hundreds, yea, thousands,

and laid down their arms at our feet, supplicating for mercy, which was

not refused. One rupee (or two shillings) was given to each, with

passes to their respective homes, together with the caution that if they

were found in arms against us any more they should die. Our faithful

adherence to the proclamation had a wonderful effect upon the native

mind. It was painful to behold some of these poor deluded wretches; they

could not understand how it was we could forgive them. They said that

when we were weak in numbers we destroyed all that came in our way; but

now, when the whole of Bengal was bristling with European bayonets, the

Sahibs were merciful. Many poor fellows were really to be pitied; for

several of the regiments had not hurt one of their officers, but had

protected them and their wives and children from danger. Yet they had

gone over to the enemy--they said it was fate. They now found out that

it was the will of a strong Government whom they had defied, that they

should lose their pensions, which hundreds had been entitled to; for

plenty of them had seen some of the roughest fighting against the Sikhs

that ever India had witnessed. Master Pandy had played a doubtful game

for heavy stakes, and had lost all.

A great proportion of the troops, both horse and foot, that went out to

India in 1857-8, never fired a shot, though they were on the spot had

their services been required. A large force had been sent on to the

Punjaub, to strike its warlike inhabitants with awe. Nothing was left to

chance. The Native troops were confronted at all points, and the poor

deluded Sepoys could not make out where all the men were coming from.

They had been given to understand, as I have already stated, that the

whole of the British army had been destroyed in front of Sebastopol, and

when we landed, with so many medals on our breasts, they began to

inquire where we had been fighting. Being informed that we had just

fought the Russians, they looked with amazement, for their priests had

told them that we were all killed. All the Native troops in Bengal, and

in a part of the Bombay and Madras presidencies, were disarmed; and

there was not much ceremony about it. We marched up to them; an order

was read; the European officers and Natives were then ordered to fall

out; and the remainder commanded to pile arms and to take off their

accoutrements. Thus their teeth were drawn to prevent mischief, and they

were then made to do duty, with a ramrod only as a weapon.

WITH THE ROYAL FUSILIERS IN THE PUNJAUB AND ELSEWHERE.

The 7th Royal Fusiliers soon marched up country (leaving all their women

and children behind), right up into the Punjaub, and pleased enough the

81st at Meean-Meer were to see us. From Mooltan we pushed on rapidly in

bullock carts, covering 50 miles a day. A strong force of the enemy were

at Meean-Meer (four regiments of Infantry and one of Cavalry), and we

were directed to take charge of them. A gallows was erected just in

front of our lines and hardly a day passed but it claimed its

victims--sometimes four or five, morning and evening. The murderers, or

would-be murderers, were quickly launched into eternity; they had not a

nine feet drop, and the hangman was never complained of for being

clumsy. Some of them abused us as long as they could speak. When Mr.

Jack Ketch had all ready, he would jump off a long form, about two feet

high, and knock down the odd leg (for it was a three legged one). Their

comrades were compelled to witness the execution, while a company of our

troops were under arms to see that the law was carried out.

One night during the summer of 1858, our people were performing in the

play house or theatre, when in rushed an officer, covered with dust, and

placed a despatch in the hands of General Windham who was in command.

The General opened and read it; there was a little whispering going on

between the General and our then Colonel Alsworth. The performance was

permitted to go on until the Act was over, when the Adjutant (Mr.

Malon), called out in a loud voice: "All men of the right wing go home

and prepare for active or field service." The shout that followed shook

the house. The old Fusiliers were ready to face any number of men

whether black or white. The Russians had quailed before them, and woe be

to the Mutineers who should attempt to oppose them. They were off long

before daylight with the band in front playing "For England's Home and

Glory," and had a long hot march before them. The wing was about 800

strong, for we stood near 1,600 bayonets at the time. A wing of the 7th

Dragoon Guards, a battery of Horse Artillery, and a regiment of Ghoorkas

accompanied us. A strong force of Natives had shown disaffection at a

place called Dera Ishmal Khan; but the force that General Windham sent

struck terror into them, and they begged for mercy. All the ringleaders

were tried, and shot or hanged; the remainder were at once dismissed, so

that there was no further bloodshed. This column lost a number of men on

the march from heat, from apoplexy and cholera, but still they pressed

on.

The Mutineers were in camp opposite our barracks. Heavy guns loaded with

grape almost up to the muzzle were pointed at them. All was ready at a

moment's notice; for some of our men, trained as gunners, were always

at, or close to the guns, and any attempt at an outbreak could be

checked at once. Thus, the reader will observe, one wing of the

Fusiliers had to keep five regiments in subjection. The other wing of

the 7th Dragoons, and also two batteries of Artillery, were about a mile

from us. One night, about tattoo, an alarm was given. Shots were fired

into the enemy's camp, and we all stood to arms and faced them. The

Cavalry and Artillery came to our assistance at a break-neck pace; but

after remaining under arms for some time, it turned out that some of our

recruits acting as sentries, had noticed some of the Mutineers moving

about their camp, and had at once fired at and wounded some of them.

They were not allowed out of their tents after tattoo, and it had just

sounded. It was well that the heavy guns did not go off, as they would

have rushed out of their camp in order to escape, and would have been

all cut or shot down. At the end of 1858 we were still at Meean-Meer. It

is one of the hottest and most unhealthy places in India, and we there

lost a number of non-commissioned officers and men from apoplexy and

fever. In the beginning of 1859 we marched up country on to Jhelum and

Rawul Pindee. The neck of the Mutiny was now broken, and the country

began to settle down. Rawul Pindee is one of the loveliest places that I

had as yet seen; it is just at the foot of the snow-capped Himalayas,

which rise majestically in the distance. We remained there for one

summer, and were then sent off to Peshawur, then the extreme frontier

station. Here we had a rough lot to deal with, for we found ourselves in

the midst of thieves and murderers. These gents go about at night, armed

with daggers, almost in a state of nudity, with their bodies well

greased from head to foot, so that if anyone got hold of them they would

slip out of his grasp like an eel, and he might look out for the dagger,

for he was bound to have it. Our people, therefore, often fired first,

and then challenged "Who comes there?" I must say these fellows proved

themselves the most expert thieves I have ever met, for nothing was too

hot or too heavy for them. If they could creep up to a sentinel, it was

all over with him; he would be stabbed to the heart, and then the

assassin would walk off with his rifle and accoutrements. At other times

they would creep or crawl into the barracks, and walk off with rifles,

accoutrements, men's clothing, or anything that they could lay their

hands upon, such as the company's copper-cooking utensils, &c., and if

anyone stood in the way, he was at once murdered. Some hundreds of

medals were, in 1860, stolen off the coats of the 93rd Highlanders,

whilst they were on parade in undress uniform. The only way to catch

these gents was to shoot them; and our people, the Highlanders, and

Rifles, pretty well thinned them.

Peshawur is one of the prettiest stations we have on the plains, but it

is also one of the most deadly; it is excessively hot in summer, and

very cold in winter. It is almost surrounded with snow-capped hills; and

one can there see snow all the year round, yet, in the summer, the heat

is enough to roast one. Regiments were sometimes brought so low with

continual fever that companies 120 strong could not furnish three men

for duty--all being down with the fever and ague. We were right glad to

get out of it.

In 1862 we marched to Ferozepore, on the banks of the Sutlej. We found

this place very hot, and often experienced what it is noted

for--"sand-storms." Reader, if ever you witness a good sand-storm, you

will be ready to think it's all up with you. It comes rolling along like

huge mountains, the wind blowing a perfect hurricane, until you are

completely enveloped; a few drops of rain will often follow, succeeded

by a perfect calm.

THE AFGHAN CAMPAIGN OF 1863.

I am now coming to the Umballah campaign. We (the 7th) had been selected

by Sir H. Rose, then Commander-in-chief, as one of the smartest

regiments in India; and, as a feather in our cap, had been directed to

escort the Governor-General, Lord Elgin, in his tour through India. Two

companies were sent off to escort his Lordship to the plains, and the

remaining eight companies (except sick, lame, and lazy, that were left

behind at Ferozepore) marched on to Meean-Meer. But the news soon

arrived that our two companies had buried his Lordship. We then expected

to march back, but to our surprise we were ordered into the field, and

to move by forced marches. When our men heard the news from the lips of

our much-respected Colonel R. Y. Shipley (now Lieutenant-General R. Y.

Shipley, C.B.), the shout that they gave startled our Native servants.

As soon as the cheering had subsided, our Colonel's voice could be

distinctly heard: "Fusiliers, I want you to use your legs. I will lead

you against black or white, I care not who." And during that long march

of between 400 and 500 miles, we found we had to use our legs. For the

information of my non-military readers, I will just describe camp life

in India, and the marching from camp to camp. About retreat, or sun

down, all camels that are intended to carry men's kits, tents, &c., are

brought and placed against the tents. The non-commissioned officer

satisfies himself that all is right, and that each camel is provided

with a good rope. If elephants are to be used, the head Mahout is told

how many to send to each company at the rouse sounding. Tattoo is

generally pretty early--say about seven o'clock p.m. After that, all is

quiet throughout the camp--nothing to be heard but the sentinel's

measured tread, and the gurgling sound from the queen of the desert

(camel). Even the drivers are quiet, and silence reigns until _reveillé_

sounds between one and three a.m., according to the length of the march.

All hands at once jump up, strike a light, dress as quick as possible,

pack up and clear the tent, down with the sides or Kornorths, and set to

to load the camels; but not a tent comes down until the bugle sounds,

"Strike tents," then one short blast, and down they all come, as if they

were all pulled with one rope; they are at once rolled up, and loaded

on the camels or elephants. The quarter-bugle sounds, the men on with

their accoutrements in the dark, and at once move to the appointed place

to fall in. Coffee is provided for them, if they require it, at the rate

of about one halfpenny per half pint; the companies are inspected by

their respective captains, reports are collected, then away they go,

with the band in front playing some lively air, and swinging along at

the rate of four miles an hour. The dust is enough to choke one; often

one cannot see the man in front, but all keep jogging along, chaffing

and joking. Men who have got "singing faces" are often in requisition.

Thus all goes on as merry as a cuckoo until eight miles are covered,

when the halt sounds, companies pile arms, and a cup of good coffee is

issued to each man with a biscuit, if he requires it, provided by Native

cooks who are sent on over night. In half-an-hour the coffee is drank,

biscuits are put out of sight, and the pipe is brought to the front; and

a nice lot of beauties the men look, covered with dust and sweat. Fall

in again, and off for, perhaps, another eight or nine miles; the baggage

and tents keep well up with us, for the camels can swing along at a good

pace, although they appear to hang over the ground. The new camp ground

is duly reached, all marked out by the Quartermaster and his

establishment. One would be astonished to see how quickly a canvas city

springs into existence; the tents are all up in an incredibly short

space of time. The poor Bheasty (water-carrier) has enough of it. In

about an hour the men have had a good wash and brush down, when in come

the cooks with breakfast--either beef steaks or mutton chops. Breakfast

over, some of the men who are tired lie down for a little rest. Some get

a book, while others play all sorts of games in the tents. Those who do

not feel tired get permission to go off shooting. Game of all kinds is

very plentiful in most parts of the country, and it does not take long

to find a good hare or a brace of pheasants, and there are no game laws

in India. When they come back what they have shot is handed over to the

cooks. In forced marching not many go out shooting, for the men are

pretty well tired out. From twenty-five to thirty miles per diem, with

rifle and accoutrements to carry, in a climate like India, is no joke.

But it has been proved that our men can beat the Natives hollow, and

march quite away from them. A camel is soon knocked up if you over-work

him; and if you attempt to over-task an elephant, he is liable to turn

crusty. Moreover, he wants plenty of room, and he'll quietly shake his

load off, and put all hands at defiance.

As acting Sergeant-Major, I led the Fusiliers through the whole of this

march, both to and from the field. On arrival at Nowshera, we soon found

that something serious was going on not very far distant, for wounded

men from the front were being sent in. We did not stay here long, but

left behind all we did not absolutely require, and off we went at a

rapid pace. Bidding farewell to all roads and bridges, we had now

nothing but a wild tract to traverse, and as we came up to the nullahs

or water-courses, in we had to go, land on the other side the best way

we could, and on again until we came to another. Sometimes we would have

six or seven of these nice places to cross, some being about a foot

deep, others nearly up to our necks. As we approached the foot of the

mountains, we could distinctly hear the Artillery in front at it, and in

the stillness of the night the roll of musketry. Other regiments, both

European and Native, kept arriving, and we had our old friends, the 93rd

Sutherland Highlanders, with us. After resting for a day or two, off we

went again, with nothing but what we had on our backs. For the first

five or six miles we had to push through thick low shrubbery; then we

commenced ascending the front of a very high hill, up which we could

only go in single file, for it was nothing but a goats' path. As we

topped the first hill, we had a splendid view. The red coats were

winding up the steeps like a long red serpent, the head of the column

having rested for a time in order to allow the rear to come up. We could

now plainly hear the rattle of musketry; and some of our young hands,

who had never seen a shot fired, began to ask all sorts of questions.

Still on and on, up and up, we kept going. Some now began to fall out to

rest a little, for it is very trying with a load such as we had to

carry, to be continually climbing. Each man had to carry 100 rounds of

ammunition, his overcoat, a blanket, shirt, socks, boots, towel,

brushes, two days' rations, and a number of little nick-nacks. I carried

a good revolver and plenty of ammunition, for it now began to get a

little exciting. About 3 p.m. we could distinctly hear the shrill

whistle of the musket balls passing over our heads, which told us that

the enemy were not far distant. We had a nice little force with us as a

reinforcement--some seven or eight Native regiments, and two batteries

of mountain guns. We (the 7th) were about 1,100 strong, and the 93rd

about 1,200. On arrival we were sent straight to the post of honour. We

had no tents, so we made the best of it for the night. The enemy

appeared on our right, left, and front, and, but for the reinforcements,

our small force would soon have been cut off from all communications.

Shots were whistling and hissing about us all night. Next morning, we

and the 93rd, and two or three regiments of Sikhs, with two of Ghoorkas,

let the enemy know that we required a little more breathing room; so in

about an hour we cleared them out of their hiding-places on our left

flank and front; but we soon found out that they were not to be

despised, for they would creep up under the shrubbery, and from rock to

rock, and pepper us until they were shot down. We had a number of strong

picquets out, and hardly a night passed but the enemy would attack some

of them, coming right up to the muzzles of our men's rifles and fighting

with desperation; and, but for the superior weapons that our men had,

numbers must have prevailed at times. It was with difficulty that we

could get some of our Native regiments to face them. One regiment (the

27th Native Infantry) bolted, but we managed to bring them up; they had

either to face us or the enemy, and they chose the enemy, and were

nearly cut to pieces. Most of the European officers were cut down, for

it was close fighting. We found a number of Mutineers mixed up with the

Afghans. They knew well that they had no mercy to expect from us, and

side by side with the dauntless Afghans they fought with such

determination that some of our crack Sikh regiments trembled before

them. But, no position that they could occupy did they hold, when once

our men and those noble little fellows the Ghoorkas went at them. The

Ghoorkas repeatedly proved during that short campaign, as they had often

done before, that they were second to none. The honour of Old England

had been entrusted to them, and they were never once beaten; but could

hold their own by the side of the bravest sons of Britain. And if ever

the much-vaunted Imperial Guards of Russia should come across their

path, they will remember them, as much as they have had cause to

remember us, for in a close fight, with their peculiarly shaped Native

Knives, they are very devils.

As regards the strength of the enemy, they were very numerous; while

fresh tribes kept joining them, and it really appeared as if the more we

destroyed the stronger they seemed to get. But during the early part of

December they were taught some very awkward lessons, and, with all the

craft of Asiatics, their chiefs pretended that they wanted to treat for

peace. Negociations were carried on for some days, their chiefs coming

daily into our camp, blind-folded, until they entered the

commissioners' marquee, when it was found out that they were playing a

treacherous game. All they wanted was to gain time, for some thousands

of other tribes to join them, in order to exterminate the white-livered

Feringhees and the dreaded Ghoorkas. But our people had had more than

one hundred years' experience with such crafty gentlemen, and were not

to be caught with chaff. So the terms that our Government demanded were

laid before them, and twenty-four hours given them to decide. They

decided to renew the fighting; and as soon as it suited the time and

plans of General Sir T. Garvick and Sir R. Chamberlain, they got quite

enough of what they had asked for, but we did not wait for the hordes of

reinforcements that were coming from all parts of Afghanistan. We had

three days continuous fighting; and it was of such a nature that it

considerably damped their ardour for the fray, and thrashed all the wild

fanaticism out of them. They threw up the sponge when they found that

they could not make any impression upon us, throwing away their arms and

begging for mercy. The "cease fire" sounded all along our line, and they

at once found out that we were not half so bad as we had been painted by

their chiefs and priests, for they immediately received mercy at our

hands, which they could not understand.

We were now right in the Swat Valley, surrounded by the loveliest

scenery that the eye could wish to gaze upon; and a number of

fine-looking men came into our bivouac with all kinds of presents, which

they placed at our feet. The fields for miles around us were covered

with their dead or wounded comrades. Poor fellows, they seemed overcome

with joy, to think and to see for themselves, that we would not hurt

their wounded, but assist them in every way we could. I may here state

that the Swattees are a noble set of people, and we now have a great

number of them in our Irregular Cavalry regiments; and the Egyptians

have lately seen that they are not to be despised. The campaign ended on

the 21st of December, as far as the fighting was concerned, and on the

24th we commenced our march towards the plains of India, right glad to

get down from those cold mountains, for snow was all around us. On

debouching into the plains, at a place called Pumuailah, at the foot of

the mountains, we found our camp already pitched for us, where we could

lay our heads down and rest, free from the shrill music of musket balls

whizzing past us, or the frantic shrieks of some thousands of native

warriors coming upon us in the dark.

One to ten

Lean raw-boned rascals, who could e'er suppose

They had such courage and audacity.

_Shakespeare._

DESCRIPTION OF AFGHAN WARFARE.

As I have said, the Afghans really seemed to despise death, so long as

they could reach us. They have been known to lay hold of the rifle, with

the bayonet right through them, and kill their opponent, so that both

fell together. On one occasion an entire company of the 101st Fusiliers

was cut to pieces, and died to a man; but it was found that a number of

these noble fellows had first driven their bayonets through their Afghan

opponents and both lay locked in death. On another occasion two

companies of the Ghoorkas were sent at (as far as we could see) about

150 fanatic Afghans. These brave little fellows threw in one volley,

then dashed at the enemy with their favourite weapon; but instead of

150, some 800 or 900 Afghans rushed out of their hiding-places, and, in

less time than it takes me to write it, exterminated the two companies,

but not before they had laid low more than double their number of

Afghans. No mercy was shown by these infuriated Hill tribes. The

remainder of the Ghoorkas regiments obtained permission to go and avenge

their comrades; and at them they went, this time backed up by the 101st

Fusiliers, who assisted them by throwing in one volley, and that deadly

weapon, the knife, did the rest. In marching over the field, about an

hour afterwards, the sights that met one's eyes in all directions were

sickening. There lay the ghastly fruits of "war to the knife." No

wounded; but men of both nations lying clasped in each other's arms,

sleeping the sleep of death.

I would suggest that those who are so anxious for war should lead the

way at an affair such as I have just described; they would then think

well before they set men at each other in deadly conflict; or, in other

words, let those that make the quarrels march in the fore front of the

battle.

* * * * *

But we taught the lawless Afghans how to respect our flag. This had been

a short, but a sharp lesson to them, for unprovoked wholesale murder. I

must here explain that these neighbours of ours had come down from their

hills to the plains, and destroyed whole villages, walking off with the

cattle, and all that they could lay their hands upon. Not a man, woman,

or child, did they leave alive to tell the tale. The whole country for

miles was laid in utter ruin, for no other crime than that the people

were British subjects. So, as the reader will admit, we were almost

compelled to draw the sword in this instance; for parleying with such

lawless gentlemen would have been looked upon as weakness, and would

have had no more effect upon them than water upon a duck's back. But, as

usual, the force that was at first sent against the enemy was far too

small. It consisted of two regiments of European Infantry (the 71st

Highlanders and 101st Fusiliers), seven or eight Native Infantry

regiments, and one of Cavalry, with three batteries of Artillery. It was

here proved that it is bad policy to despise your enemies, for this

little force could barely hold their own. It could hardly be said that

they were masters of the ground they slept upon. They had, as it were,

to "hold on by the skin of their teeth," in the midst of a host, until

reinforcements reached them. Hence our hurried march to their

assistance. In this instance again we proved that the bayonet is the

queen of weapons, for not all the countless hordes of fanatics could

withstand a determined rush of some 10,000 men, backed up by others; for

we had ultimately a force of some 25,000 men, with whom we struck terror

into at least 150,000 of these sons of the Himalayas.

THE END OF THE WAR.

Well, it was now all over; they had paid the penalty for unprovoked

murder, and were submissive at our feet. Although the sword--the

victorious British sword--had been uplifted, our people remembered

mercy, and that had more effect upon these hardy mountaineers than the

mere sight of piles of their dead comrades all around them had produced.

We remained for a few days, and then marched on to our frontiers. The

Natives all around suddenly became wonderfully civil, and all kinds of

supplies were brought into our camp; for they had found out that the

Sahib Logs were indeed lords and masters, and that civility was cheaper

than rope. This short but sharp lesson had such an effect upon them,

that one regiment of old women could have kept them in check for years

afterwards. We remained for two months on the frontiers, until all was

quiet, then broke up camp, and marched to our respective stations. The

Fusiliers remained at Ferozepore until the end of 1866, when we marched

on to Saugor (central India). It looked a beautiful place, but, alas!

many a fine fellow who marched into that lovely vale, in all the pride

of manhood, never marched out of it again.

REFLECTIONS.

All went on well until the summer of 1869, when we were attacked by

cholera, and our poor fellows died like rotten sheep. In fourteen days

we lost 149 men, 11 women, and 27 children. I here lost six dear little

ones, and my wife was pronounced dead by one of the doctors; but, thank

God, even doctors make wonderful mistakes sometimes. It proved so in her

case, for she is with me yet, and has made me more than one "nice little

present" since. During that trying ordeal we proved the faithfulness of

the natives, for, although death was raging amongst us, they stood by us

manfully; and a number of them clung so close to our poor fellows, in

rubbing them, that they caught the terrible malady, and died rather than

forsake their masters. I say now, after nineteen years in the midst of

the burning plains of India, treat the native with kindness, be firm

with him, but let him see that you are determined to give him justice,

and I'll be bound that you will find him a good, kind, loving, obedient

creature, and a loyal subject. Thousands, yea tens of thousands, of the

natives can speak our language as well as we can, and see plainly that

they have justice, that the rich cannot oppress the poor, and that under

our flag they are safe from all oppression. The highest positions are

attainable by all, if they will only qualify themselves for them. Our

equal laws have bound them to us in love, and if our Government required

500,000 more men we could have them in less than a month. They will tell

you plainly if you will lead they will follow. There are no better

troops in the world than the Ghoorkas, Sikhs, and Beloochees; all they

require is leaders. But give me old England, with a crust, in preference

to India, with all its luxuries, although I had my health remarkably

well all the time I was there. I had, however, a very strong objection

to the hot winds, the sand-storms, the flying bugs (and those that could

not fly), the mosquitoes, and to a slow bake, for in summer the

thermometer would often show 125° Fah., and the air would be so sultry

that one could hardly breathe without being fanned. But I must be

honest. A number of our men wreck their constitutions with heavy

drinking and then complain of the climate, which certainly is very

trying. After all, give me "home, sweet home."

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS OF THE PEOPLE.

Before I leave the subject I feel I ought to say something about the

manners and customs of the people of India. A high-caste Brahmin, be he

rich or poor, is venerated by all other castes of Hindoos. The country

was ruled by them until we took possession of it; and, although our

proud old flag now waves from Calcutta to Afghanistan, we do not

interfere in any way with their religious observances, so long as they

obey our laws and respect life and property. One of the most important

events in civilised society is the selection of suitable partners in

life; in happy England it is seldom a third party has any participation

in the matter, but throughout India it is quite a different affair. A

native, whether Hindoo or Mussulman, rich or poor, old or young, is

allowed to have as many wives as he thinks fit or can support. The mode

of selecting their wives and the marriage ceremony are very curious. Mr.

Kalo, we will say, is a merchant or poor man (Ryot). He has a son (say

ten years old). His neighbour's or friend's pet wife of the same caste

is in an interesting condition, and the two fathers privately arrange

for the children's marriage. The priest or priests of the same caste

are sent for, and the boy, decked with jewellery, is betrothed to the

forthcoming progeny, provided it should turn out to be of the opposite

sex. A grand supper of currie and rice is then given to all friends and

relatives, washed down with any amount of bhang. The boy is seated by

the side of the happy (?) mother-in-law elect, the priests being masters

of the ceremonies. Months roll on, and the happy day approaches. The

little stranger is ushered into this world of trouble. Should it prove

to be a girl, the priests are again sent for, and the betrothal is

repeated, in presence of friends and relatives, a grand supper of course

being given, and the portion falling to the lot of the innocent babe is

then set apart. At seven years of age, providing both are alive, another

ceremony takes place, when they are legally married, and, if of the

upper class, the bride is decked with as much jewellery as she can

fairly stand under; if of the middle or lower class, the ornaments are

generally of silver, beautifully wrought; but the happy pair continue to

reside with their respective parents until the bride is from ten to

twelve years of age. In the meantime the boy may have been married a

dozen times to young ladies whose betrothed husbands had died, and who

would be regarded by Hindoo or Mussulman law as widows. The happy day,

however, at last approaches. The young bride and bridegroom again meet,

but this time at their mutual shrine or musjid. The young couple are

here united by the priests. A banquet is then given, at which they are

well sprinkled with rice, bhang being freely distributed. The bride is

then driven off to the bridegroom's mansion (or hut, as the case may

be), and next morning is ushered into the harem, decked with jewellery

and precious stones, and from this time is looked upon as its head. She

now bids farewell to the outer world, being considered the husband's pet

wife, and is withdrawn from the gaze even of her own relatives. We in

happy England on meeting with friends or relatives are accustomed, after

our first greetings, to inquire after the wives and children; but in

India it is the greatest insult you can offer a man, whatever his

station, to mention his wife. The furthest you may go, according to

Indian etiquette, is to ask whether the family is well. Many in the

upper classes have some hundreds of wives, to all of whom they are

legally married; and in both the upper and lower classes, in many

instances, the husband does not know the names of some of his wives, as

they continue to retain their own after marriage.

TAKING THE CENSUS.

During the taking of the census in India, in 1871, I was Garrison

Sergeant-Major of Allahabad, and had some eight or ten Native male

servants, all of whom were married, but I had never troubled myself

about the number of wives or children they had, so long as they

performed their duties in my service. Schedules were issued to all

officers and non-commissioned officers detached (employed on the staff).

I gave directions to my head Sirdar-bearer to parade the whole of my

Native establishment, male or female, old or young, at a certain time in

the verandah, opposite my door. The time arrived. All the men and

children were duly paraded, but not a woman put in her appearance. I

enquired where the wives were, and was told that they were in the house.

I informed them that I must see them. They all looked at each other in

blank despair. I gave them to understand that it was a Government order

and that it must be obeyed. One man stated that I might kill him if I

liked, but I should not see his wives. I had to be very firm with them,

assuring them that I would not lay a finger on them, but that there was

the order and it must and should be obeyed, even if I had to force my

way into their harems. My wife came to my assistance, and, with a little

coaxing from her, we succeeded in unearthing some forty "dear creatures"

encased in chudders (or sheets) perforated about the face. They all sat

down in families. I then commenced to take from the husbands their names

and ages. On inquiring of the men the names and ages of their respective

wives, I found they knew neither the one nor the other in many cases,

and had to enquire of their spouses. Some of the dark ladies seemed to

enjoy the joke, which they expressed in titters of laughter, but were

only too glad when they were told they might go to their homes.

SERVANTS AND CASTE.

A gentleman in India is compelled to keep at least eight or ten

servants, their salaries ranging from four rupees (8/-) to ten rupees

(£1) per month; for the man who cooks your food will not put it on the

table for you, or look after the table in any way; the man who brings

you clean water won't take away the dirty; the one who sweeps your house

will not clean your dog; the one that grooms your horse will not drive

you; and the one that looks after your clothing and cash will do nothing

else. The gardener will look after the garden, but should he come across

anything dead, he will not touch it. The female servants will attend to

the mistress and children in dressing them or walking out with them, but

will not wash them or do any manual work. The dhoby (washerman) will

wash and get up your clothing, but will do nothing else. Such is caste.

THE STEPS TAKEN TO PREVENT ANOTHER MUTINY.

Some of my readers would perhaps like to know what steps our Government

has taken to guard against another revolt, as it is necessary that we

must have a Native army. Previous to the outbreak, implicit confidence

was placed in our Sepoys. Nearly all our forts were held by them. All

treasure was in their keeping. They held large tracts of country,

without a single company of Europeans near them. They were brigaded

together, both horse, foot, and artillery, and not a troop, nor a single

gun, manned by Europeans, was near to "contaminate" these much-pampered

gents. Our vast magazines were in their custody. Things had come to such

a state, that they would only do just as they liked. They had no one to

overlook them, and consequently could hatch up just whatever they liked.

They commenced to look upon themselves as lords and masters. Now just

mark the difference in their relative position:--

1. All forts are manned by Europeans; not a Native company

lives in any fort of any note.

2. All treasures, and military stores of all descriptions,

are kept under the watchful eyes of European soldiers.

3. Not a station of any importance, from Calcutta to

Peshawur, but there are Native troops, with a full

proportion of Europeans to see fair play.

4. There is not a gun on the whole plain of India manned by

Natives--all are manned by Europeans. The only Native

gunners we have are those who man the mountain train

batteries--small guns carried on mules.

5. All ammunition for Infantry is kept in charge of

Europeans. The Natives are allowed three rounds per man.

6. No Native, high or low, rich or poor, is allowed to carry

arms except he holds a license--not even a stick with a

piece of iron attached to it.

7. All Native Regiments, both Horse and Foot, have Native

Christians serving in their ranks; most of the band and

drummers are Native Christians, and a watchful eye is kept

upon them, although perhaps many of them do not think so.

The native officers are now a very intelligent body of men.

They are promoted by merit, and some of them are very clever

fellows; whilst the old school were a lot of doting old

men--it would break their caste to look at them.

Again, the eurasions (half-castes) are now in such numbers all over the

country that it would be a matter almost of impossibility for a

conspiracy to be got up without their knowing it. The pure native hates

them. Some of them are almost as black as one's boot, and yet they ape

the European. A native would spit in their faces but for the strong arm

of the law. They will tell you that "God made black man, and God made

white man, but,"--with a contemptible sneer--"Sahib, who made them?"

So, if ever we have another outbreak, we shall know it is coming, and

then, too, we must remember it will not now take our troops five months

to reach the shores of India. We have a native army at this time, all

told, of nearly 500,000 men, that would go to any part of the globe with

us; and some of these fine mornings I dare prophecy Mr. Russia will find

out to his cost that we have a really loyal native army, and led by some

of the best blood this silver-coasted isle of ours can produce. We have

nothing to fear, even from crafty Russia, although she boasts of two

million bayonets. I say again our resources of good loyal resolute men

even in the Punjaub alone, are inexhaustible, for our equal laws since

the Mutiny have gained the high esteem of countless millions, that

would, if we required it, follow us to any part of the globe. I do not

wish to foster a bellicose spirit, but Russia must not come one yard

further or she will have to confront in deadly conflict millions of a

free, happy, and contented empire, determined to uphold at all costs our

glorious old standard.

Before we close our notes upon India, we will just glance at the final

transfer of the great East India Company of merchant adventurers trading

in the East Indies. They had but small beginnings: they were nothing but

a trading company; but gradually they kept advancing, grasping here a

slice and there a slice, until 1757. The terrible tragedy of the Black

Hole at Calcutta aroused to the highest pitch all the energies of the

sons of Britain; and a Clive, with but a handful of men, dashed at their

vast hordes on the plains of Plassey, scattered them in all directions,

captured all their guns, dictated his own terms of peace, and laid the

foundation of the British Empire in the East. This gigantic Company had

extended our rule from Cape Comorin to the Himalayas, and from

Bramapootra to the Bay of Combay; but by mismanagement this vast

appendage had been shaken to its foundations: oceans of blood had been

spilt, and India had had enough of slaughter. At length the happy day

arrived (1st November, 1858) when the important announcement was made

that the East India Company had ceased to exist, and that some two

hundred and fifty millions of people were in future to be governed by

Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria. This was truly a happy day

throughout the length and breadth of this vast dependency. The

Proclamation by the Queen in Council to the princes, chiefs and peoples

of India was announced simultaneously at Calcutta, Bombay, Madras,

Allahabad, Lahore, and throughout all the stations of India. Amidst the

roar of cannon and triumphal martial music, our gracious Queen was

proclaimed actual and supreme ruler of India. At the same time and

places it was announced in her name that the claims of retributive

justice had ceased, and the hand of mercy, with a Christian spirit, was

held out for all crimes short of absolute and merciless murders of

defenceless men, women and children, in accordance with the laws of God

and man, that murderers shall die; but to all others forgiveness was

freely offered. Thousands were frantic with joy, and called aloud for

God to bless the Queen. We would here note a remarkable instance of the

mutability of human grandeur. At Cawnpore (1st November, 1858), while

the proclamation was being read, the ex-King of Delhi was brought into

that station on his way to Calcutta, under a strong guard. The thunder

of the guns, the triumphant strains of the bands, with the glitter and

display all around--such a scene at such a station as Cawnpore was

emphatically suggestive of the word "retribution." The following is a

fair sample of the spirit that pervaded nearly all classes throughout

India. The papers were full of speeches from educated native gentlemen.

One ran as follows:--"Gentlemen, I see around me many of higher rank,

and better able to express the sentiments of our countrymen than I am;

but as you have done me the honour to call upon me on this important

occasion, I have much pleasure in stating that my intercourse in life

has been much with Englishmen, and I know so much of the vast resources,

the great power and the great goodness of the English people, that I do

not think myself altogether incompetent to offer an opinion. If I had

power and influence I would proclaim throughout the length and breadth

of the land that never were the natives more grievously mistaken than

they have been in adopting the notion palmed upon them by designing and

wicked men, that their religion was at stake. That notion has been at

the root of the late rebellion. The mass of the people do not understand

the English character: they do not understand the generosity, the

benevolence of the governing power, the even-handed justice with which

that power is willing and anxious always to do that which is right

between man and man, without a reference whatever as to whether the man

belongs to the governing or to the governed class. If all this were

known, where would be rebellion in the land? Certainly there never would

have been such an outbreak as that which recently shook the foundations

of this empire. The only remedy is education. Nothing has distressed me

more, among the acts of the late Government, than the positive

prohibition against incurring any expense on the score of education.

Lord William Bentinck--a name which must ever be remembered with

reverence--once said in this city: That for all the evils, all the

oppressions, all the grievances under which India labours, the first

remedy was education, the second remedy was education, and the third

remedy was education. But, gentlemen, to come to the point, I have read

the proclamation of Her Majesty with great pleasure, with awakened

feelings, with tears of joy when I came to the last paragraph.[21] A

nobler production it has never been my lot to have met with. The most

just, the broadest principles are therein set forth: humanity, mercy,

justice, breathe through every line, and we ought all to welcome it with

the highest hope and the liveliest gratitude. Depend upon it, when our

Sovereign tells us, 'In your prosperity is our strength, in your

contentment our security, and in your gratitude our best reward,' the

future of India is full of encouragement and hope for her children. What

could have been nobler or more beautiful, what could have better

dignified even the tongue of a queen than language such as that? Let us

kneel down before her with every feeling of loyalty: let us welcome the

new reign with the warmest sentiment of gratitude and the deepest

feeling of devotion. 'God bless our Queen.'" Since then, millions of

money have been spent to improve this vast country, on roads, bridges,

irrigation, canals, railroads; and last, but not least, education has

not been forgotten. Every village has its school, but the creeds are

respected, and in a few short years almost every tongue will call upon

God to bless the British. They have now equality of laws: the same firm

hand of justice that guides the European, guides, guards, and protects

the poor, the widow and the fatherless. The teeming millions are

governed in a Christian spirit, and are united to us in love and

gratitude. "Unity is strength." We are not of those who wish to foster a

bellicose spirit, but to live in peace with all mankind. But we would

point out to our readers that British India is quite capable of

defending herself against all comers, having an inexhaustible supply of

men, and requiring only arms and good leaders, both of which are at our

command. Our vast magazines throughout the country are well supplied

with arms; and as for leaders, we have thousands who would not turn

their backs upon the proudest and haughtiest sons of Adam's race,

standing sentry, as it were, upon the gates of India.[22] We have

nothing to fear, even from the craftiest of our enemies. Within three

months, our Government could, if required, put three hundred thousand,

four hundred thousand, or a million of men into the field, as well

drilled as most of our crack regiments. The Indian Government have, for

years past, had a splendid system of putting men or passing men into the

Reserves: and each one of the Native regiments could, say within seven

days, be brought up to a strength of ten thousand men, well drilled and

well armed. The Reserves are being continually drilled at least one

month per annum; they have all a life pension to look forward to: it is

small, 'tis true--two annas (threepence) per diem; but that amount will

keep a native and his family from starving. It is more to him than one

shilling is here. Then you must remember he is not an old man: he has

not reached the mature age of thirty years. Again, in accordance with

the proclamation issued in 1858, we do not interfere in any way by force

with their creed or caste, every man being permitted to worship God

after the dictates of his own conscience. We have not the slightest

hesitation in affirming that if the Lion in India was aroused, we could,

within three months, put into the field such an army as would astonish

the civilized world--most of them well drilled men, thousands of them

not at all to be despised: Ghoorkas, Sikhs, Beloochees, and Afridis,

with good leaders that would face Old Nick himself: they would die to a

man, but never yield. We conquered them after a lot of hard fighting, as

they had no unity. Now they all, united heart and hand, acknowledge one

flag and one Empress. It cannot be denied, although crafty Russia holds

out the olive branch of peace, that she means to have the whole of India

if we will only allow her. Mark it well, reader: the advances of Russia,

like those of a tiger, have ever been wary, crouching, and cowardly,

until the moment arrives for pouncing upon her prey. They often disarm

all apprehension of evil by pretensions to peace and friendliness; but

so sure as she attacks India, she will find a "Tartar" in the Briton,

backed up by tens, yea, hundreds of thousands of men that are second to

none. She will find an united India, with its teeming millions, ready to

uphold that flag which proclaims liberty to the slave, the conscience,

the press: that protects with a strong arm all law-abiding subjects,

whether of European or Asiatic origin. We have not the slightest

hesitation in saying, that no European Power could withstand us in

India. They must come by land or confront our fleet. A small army, say

one hundred thousand, would be rolled up in no time: and a huge army,

say of the strength that Napoleon invaded Russia with in 1812, would

melt away from the ray of an Indian sun, faster than Napoleon's vast

host did from frost. Rest content, reader, we have nothing to fear.

India is able to defend herself so long as her sons are guided by the

sons of Albion. Imbecile or traitorous must be that Government which

slumbers while Russia is approaching its borders: while that grasping

Power is approaching close to its frontiers, and with which, ere long,

it will have to measure its strength and grapple with its huge

battalions. But we see no fear, knowing the stamp, the indomitable pluck

of hundreds of thousands of those who will stand by our old flag. In the

end, the old Bear will have to retire from the Lion's grasp. But we must

not be caught napping: our motto must be, "Fear God and keep your powder

dry," and as true Britons we need fear no one else. No one from the

Viceroy downwards dare to interfere with the natives. So long as they

obey the laws, the strong arm of the law will protect them; the rich

cannot oppress them, whilst the poor have the gospel preached to them.

They have an open Bible in their own language; they can sit under their

own vine and fig-tree, and none dare make them afraid. This is what our

forefathers fought so desperately for, and handed down to us. There are

now thousands throughout the vast plain and hills of peaceful India that

know the joyful sound. Hundreds, yea, thousands whose forefathers

worshipped the sun, the moon, the stars, the cow, the bull, the monkey,

the peacock, and hundreds of other gods, now worship the only true and

living God, through the Great Mediator, the Man Christ Jesus. Again, my

readers must remember that thousands of Natives from Calcutta to

Peshawur are well educated, fit to go into any society: they know as

much about this densely populated God-defended isle as we do, and as

much about Russia and its despotic laws, with Siberia and the knout, as

we do. They have made the laws of different European nations their

study: they know well our vast strength, that we are an undefeated race;

that India is but a portion of the great empire that acknowledges London

as its capital, and our beloved Queen as their Empress. They know well

that the highest positions in the State are attainable by all that will

qualify themselves, and yet retain, if they wish, their own religious

beliefs. We have now Native judges sitting on our benches to administer

justice, to all that seek its protection or that break the law. I hope

my readers will be able to see that India is content, is happy and is

safe. She will in the future stand or advance, shoulder to shoulder,

with the sons of Albion, and side by side with the wild boys of the

Green Isle; and any that should try to wrench it from us, will find a

hard nut to crack in a hornet's nest.

LETTERS FROM INDIA.

The following are a few of my letters from India from 1857 to 1876. I

trust that they will prove of more than passing interest. Some of them

will be found amusing, whilst others will be found heart-rending, and

will sink deep into more than one parent's heart, and set them thinking,

"Where is my boy to-night?" Many of them were written under great

difficulty, not with the thermometer below freezing point, but in the

midst of heat that was almost enough to give one a slow bake, with the

thermometer indicating in the sun 140° of heat, and in the shade 120°,

with the sweat rolling off one like rain: in some stations with the hot

winds, 30° can be added. But I felt it my duty and a privilege to write

as often as I could to those that are near and dear to me. The following

are all that can be found:--

Kurrachee, 28th Nov., 1857.

My Dear Parents,

Thank God, we have landed safe and sound once more on _terra

firma_, after a long and tedious sail across the ocean. We

had what is called a splendid voyage until we got near the

Cape of Good Hope, when a storm that threatened our entire

destruction overtook us. It was truly awful, with the

appalling claps of thunder (the loudest I have ever heard),

and the flashes of lightning were dreadful; while a heavy

sea broke completely over us, carrying all before it. I was

on watch on deck. It was about three o'clock a.m. on the

19th of October. Half the watch were ordered below and the

hatches fastened down, when, with a crash, down came the

foremast. The shrieks of the women and children below were

piteous, while the cries of the poor fellows gone overboard

with the fallen mast were dreadful. The watch, I am happy to

say, were calm and did all they could to help the sailors;

but alas! the poor fellows that had gone overboard, we could

not save. The sea was rolling mountains high, and no boat

could live one minute in it. It was as dark as the grave,

save when the flashes of lightning revealed our misery. Then

another terrible sea caught us, dashed us on our beam-ends,

swept away all our boats, with the bulwarks on the port

side, and the two remaining masts were snapped asunder as if

they had been twigs. To all human appearance the

Head-quarters of the Royal Fusiliers (about 350 strong) were

doomed to a watery grave, when the good ship (the "Owen

Glandore") righted herself. We looked in a terrible plight.

A portion of the mainmast was left, with the mainsail all in

ribbons. Seventeen poor fellows were washed overboard to

meet a watery grave. Ropes were thrown to them, but it was

all in vain. The captain was an old salt veteran of some

fifty years; and with his trumpet gave his orders as calmly

as possible. All was right with such a man, in life or in

death. The sea was now breaking completely over us, and we

had to hold on the best way we could. About five a.m. she

gave a terrible dive, as we thought; it was a huge wave

passing completely over us. The timbers of the noble ship

cracked, and she shook from stem to stern; the captain,

lashed to the poop, still calm. I think I see that manly

face uplifted, as he exclaimed with a loud voice: "Thank

God! she still floats." He then shouted to our Colonel

Aldsworth, "If the mainsail goes, all is lost; you are in

greater danger now than ever you were in front of

Sebastopol." We (the watch) could but look at that calm

face, but not a word was uttered. Death was all around us,

but as true Britons it was no use murmuring; all was quiet,

all were calm. We were truly, dear parents, looking death in

the face, for there were no back-doors. But just then, when

skill had done its best, and when to all human appearance we

were about to be launched into eternity, to meet a watery

grave, a still inaudible voice said: "Peace be still." The

wind ceased, and the storm was all over; but the sea was

still rolling heavily, and we were but a helpless tub in the

midst of the raging billows of the fathomless ocean.

Gradually, however, the ocean became a heavy swell, and in a

few hours as calm as a fish-pond. We had had a most

miraculous escape, and our brave old captain requested the

colonel to have prayers at once, and thank Him fervently who

said to the raging billows: "Peace be still." All hands were

at once set to work, and all who could use a needle were set

to sail-making. Jurymasts were brought up out of the hold,

and in a few days, without putting into port, we began to

look quite smart again, and went on our way rejoicing, to

help to revenge our murdered countrymen, women and children.

The captain complimented our colonel upon having such a cool

body of men. We find this country in a terrible state, but I

see no fear but what we shall be a match for them before it

is over. I have not time to say more at present; will drop a

few lines, if possible, next mail, and give you all the news

I can. I am happy to say I am quite well, and we must make

the best of a bad job. It will not do to give in at trifles.

We are to have an execution parade this afternoon; there are

twelve of these beauties to be blown from the mouth of the

cannon. We have had one such parade before. 'Tis a horrible

sight--legs, arms, and all parts of the body flying about,

and coming to mother earth with a thud. The sight is so

sickening that I do not care to dwell upon it. Give my

respects to all old friends, and

Believe me,

My dear Parents,

Your affectionate Son,

T. GOWING,

Sergeant Royal Fusiliers.

Kurrachee, East India, 4th Dec., 1857.

My Dear Dear Parents,

Once more, a line from what some people call a glorious

land, but to give it its proper name just now, it is a hell

upon earth. The fiend-like deeds that are being perpetrated

daily out here are beyond description, and should these

brutes get the better of our troops, every European here

will have to die a terrible death, and we shall have to

commence with another "Plassy." But I see no fear. Mark me,

we shall beat these murderers of women and children, but it

will not do to stop to count them. Thousands of men who

fought and conquered at the Alma, Balaclava, Inkermann, and

twice stormed the bloody parapets of the Redan, are not men

to be easily subdued. I see our Government has put the right

man into the right place as our commander and leader. Sir

Colin Campbell is not a man likely to be "taken short," but

is a regular go-ahead, fire-eating old cock. He is,

moreover, no novice, has been trained in a rough school

under Wellington, Gough, and Napier. It was he that put the

finishing touch on the Russians at the Alma and commanded

the thin red line at Balaclava, thus nobly sustaining the

prestige of the flag that has waved triumphant out here

since Plassey (1757), and which may now with safety be

entrusted to his keeping. We had no idea when we left

Portsmouth that we were bound for such a hell-hole as this,

or I do not think we should have brought our women and

children with us. I find we are to move up country shortly;

we are waiting for reinforcements; the women and children

and all extra baggage to be left behind. That looks like

business. Our Government is not going to play with these

gents; and, as true Britons, if we are to die, we shall meet

death sword in hand. Our men are roused to a pitch almost of

frantic madness to get at the cowardly brutes. Cawnpore and

Jensie will be wiped out with a terrible retribution.

Britons have the feelings of humanity, but one's blood runs

cold to read and to hear daily of the dastard base deeds (of

the rebels), to poor defenceless women and children, for no

other crime than that they have white faces. I dare prophecy

that the enemy will find out we are the true offspring of

their conquerors at Plassey, Seringapatam, Ferozeshah,

Moodkee, Sobraon, Goojerat, and scores of other fields where

they have had to bow in humble submission to our

all-conquering thin red line. As for myself, I see no fear.

I shall not die till my time comes, and the same powerful

Hand that has protected me thus far, is able to do it out

here. Our line--the ever-memorable thin victorious line--is

already advancing, and it will not halt until our proud old

flag is again waved in supremacy over all the fortresses,

cities, and fertile plains of India, and these cringing

brutes begging for mercy (what they are now strangers to). I

will, if I am spared, take notes, and write as often as I

can. You must try and keep your spirits up. I am as happy as

a bug in a rug. I never go half-way to meet troubles, and I

believe the best way to get over all difficulties in this

world is to face them. I have a few pounds that I have no

use for; please accept them as a mark of love from your wild

boy. Poor mother will find a use for them. I enclose a draft

on Gurney's Bank. We have a number of Norwich men in the

Fusiliers, most of them fine-looking men; they joined us as

volunteers from other regiments just before we left home.

It is now the depth of winter, but we find it quite warm

enough during the day. I intend to adhere strictly to

temperance, hot or cold. I could stand the cold in the

Crimea without drink stronger than coffee; and as we crossed

the equator twice on our voyage out here, I think I know a

little already of what excessive heat is, and I did without

it then. Our doctors all agree that the temperate man out

here has the best of it. He is more prepared to resist the

different diseases that prevail among Europeans, such as

fevers, rheumatism, disorder of the liver, and even cholera;

that I can testily from my experience in Turkey and the

Crimea. I find the inhabitants out here are a mixed up lot,

but if one can once master the Hindoostanee language, he can

make himself understood all over the vast plains, from

Calcutta to Peshawur. As soon as things are a little bit

quiet, I shall go in for Hindoostanee. Tell poor mother to

keep her pecker up. I do not believe this "row" out here

will last long, as troops are landing in all directions; and

if they could not subdue a handful of men that were in the

country when it started last May, what may they expect now

that the Crimean veterans are thrown into the scale against

them. It will be a war of extermination. I do not think our

men will wait to quarter the foe; if we can only close with

them, it will be one deadly thrust with that never-failing

weapon, the bayonet, and all debts will be paid: retribution

must eventually overtake such bloodthirsty wretches. But I

must bring this to a close. Give my kind regards to all old

friends, trusting this will find you as it leaves me, in the

enjoyment of that priceless blessing, good health.

And believe me,

My dear Patents, as ever,

Your affectionate Son,

T. GOWING,

Sergeant Royal Fusiliers.

P.S.--I find our old friends of the Light Division the 2nd

Rifles, the 23rd Fusiliers, the 88th Connaught Rangers, the

90th and 97th have already had a "shy" at the foe, and thus

helped to revenge poor defenceless creatures. Our turn will

come yet; it will then be "the d--l take the hindermost."

Please address as above; it will follow me if I am above the

soil. Keep your spirits up, mother dear.

T. G.

Camp, Meean-Meer (Punjaub),

5th April, 1858.

My Dear and ever Dear Parents,

From my former letters from Kurrachee and Mooltan, and by

the newspapers, you will see how near the verge of ruin this

large appendage to our empire has been brought; in fact, it

has been shaken to its foundations, by (what shall I say),

mismanagement. And these much puffed-up Sepoys (native

soldiers) have been spoilt; and, depending upon their

strength and our weakness (for kindness has evidently been

looked upon as weakness), they have risen up to crush us.

The determined stands that our handful of men have made on

the heights around Delhi and other places where the honour

of our glorious old flag has been at stake, has been

sublime, and rendered them worthy to rank beside the heroes

of Albuera, Salamanca, Vittoria, Waterloo, Alma, Inkermann,

the Nile, and Trafalgar; and whilst Old England, side by

side the brave sons of Ireland, can produce such men to

stand beside and guard her flag, she has nothing to fear;

and the Sepoys out here will find, I dare prophecy, before

twelve months have rolled over, that we are the true

descendants of these conquerors. If they could not subdue a

mere handful of men, what may they expect now that the

veterans of Alma and Inkermann are thrown into the scale

against them. A terrible day of vengeance has dawned; the

sword of justice will be plunged into the hearts of the

murderers of defenceless women and children. The lion in the

Briton is roused, the blood of the innocent cry for

vengeance. But remember, it's only the native army that has

risen against us; the inhabitants generally are on the side

of law and order. And, I will be bound, our troops will take

tea with the traitors before we have done with them, and

bring them on their knees begging for mercy (to which they

are strangers). Now for a little news. In my letter from

Kurrachee I told you that we expected to re-embark and go

round to Calcutta; but instead of that, our Government, with

the reinforcements that were arriving almost daily, were

determined to grapple with the mutineers, North, East, West,

and South, at the same time; so strong reinforcements have

been pushed on into the Punjaub to strike its war-like

inhabitants with awe. And the Royal Fusiliers--second to

none--about 1300 bayonets; the 94th, 1200 strong; the 7th

Dragoon Guards (or Black Horse), about 800 sabres, and three

batteries of Horse and Field Artillery, with 24 guns, moved

up country. The natives received us in every camp with joy

and gladness. It was very pleasant when we left Kurrachee in

December last; we had a march of about 120 miles to the

banks of the river Indus--it's a noble stream. We found the

road or track very sandy--we sank near to our ankles in sand

at every stride--which made it hard work to get along. But

the honour of our flag was at stake, and I think I may say,

without egotism, that it was safe in our hands. We had

native guides to take us across the desert, as in many

places there was no trace of road. The inhabitants brought

all sorts of eatables in the way of fish, vegetables, eggs,

fowls, and fruit into our camp. The accounts that appear in

the country papers daily are enough to make one's blood

boil. The murdering, bloodthirsty villains will all meet

their doom yet. I told you a little of how we treated them

in Kurrachee and Mooltan, and should we ever cross the path

of these murdering traitors, I will be bound to say that our

fellows will give it them right and left.

We found flat-bottom boats awaiting us on the Indus, and at

once marched on board. Each steamer had a flat-bottomed boat

to tow up; with each pair they could stow away about 400

men, with kits and arms. As soon as all were on board, off

we started. Our destination, as far as we then knew, was

Mooltan. We found we had to face a very strong current, with

a native at the head of the boat constantly sounding. It was

very amusing to hear him shouting continually, from morning

till night: "No bottom, no bottom." "Stop her; back her."

"Teen put" (3 feet). "Chay put" (6 feet). "No bottom."

"Sanadoo put" (2-1/2 feet). "Stop her!" Often we would stick

fast on a sand-bank, when all the crew, and perhaps some 50

of our men, would jump into the water and shove her back. At

other times we would have to land half our men at a time,

with long ropes to pull the steamer and flat along, or we

should have lost ground. Sometimes it was rough work, with

so many creeks to cross up to our middles, and sometimes our

necks, in mud and water. The first to cross would be a

native boatman to make the rope fast; then it did not matter

much how deep it was. You would be astonished how quickly

our men got over. We have a very witty Irishman in my

Company, and he often kept us all alive. One morning, as we

were about to get over one of these nice creeks, he shouted

out: "Here go, boys, for ould Ireland's home and glory," as

he dashed into it. As you know, I do not drink, and so our

witty friend often gets my go of rum. We found the river

abounded with gigantic amphibious reptiles--crocodiles. We

had a little sport daily, shooting them; also huge snakes

in abundance. So it was not safe even in the creeks to have

a bathe. We lost one man overboard; the poor fellow was

snapped up by a crocodile before a boat could reach him. We

lost another man by the bite of a snake; both these men had

gone through the whole of the Crimean campaign. In due

course we arrived safely at Mooltan--1300 miles from

Kurrachee. Here we remained for a few days and had a good

look at the citadel from whence the valuable

Koh-i-noor--worth about £2,000,000 sterling--was taken by

Lord Gough, and presented to Her Most Gracious Majesty in

1848. We then pushed on here by bullock carts through a vast

desert, the road all the way being strewn with straw. We had

to take turns at riding, one company being sent on daily

until we had all left Mooltan. We had five days of this sort

of travelling.

On the evening of the fifth day our first company--about 130

strong--marched in here. The 81st were delighted to see us.

They were very weak, having suffered heavily last year with

cholera. They had been holding on by the skin of their

teeth, for there are about 4000 mutineers here, and the 81st

were only about 300 strong at headquarters, having two

strong detachments out. Those of our men who were with the

leading companies, came out to meet us with all sorts of

news. We all landed here safely by the end of February,

except sick, lame, and lazy, and women and children who were

left behind at Kurrachee, as we expected to take the field.

Our men were almost mad with rage when the order came in for

us to remain at Meean Meer; the old Fusiliers wanted to

measure their strength with these bloodthirsty wretches at

Lucknow. But we found, after sending out two or three strong

detachments, that we had a handful here, prisoners being

brought in daily from the surrounding country, tried, and

executed at once. The execution parades are ghastly sights

to witness, but the horrible, fiend-like deeds that they

have perpetrated leave but little room in our hearts for

pity. We execute, more or less, every day. The blowing away

from the mouth of the cannon is a sickening sight, and I do

not care to dwell upon it. Since we came here I have been

appointed drill-sergeant of the regiment. It carries one

shilling per diem extra; but I am at it from 4 a.m. until 7

p.m., but rest during the day time. You, I think, will

notice the date of this. I know poor mother will remember

it. I am just 24 years in this troublesome world. I enclose

a small draft for poor mother's acceptance; it is the first

three months' extra pay, and a little with it to make it up

to a "fiver." Mind, this is for mother's use, and no one

else is to interfere with it. If we are ordered into the

field I will drop a line if possible, but not a little

newspaper. I see no fear; I shall not die till my time

comes; I do not believe the man is born yet that is to shoot

me, or surely I never should have escaped so often as I did

in the Crimea. When I look back to the fields of the Alma,

the two Inkermanns, the night of the 22nd of March, the 7th

and 18th of June (1855), the dash at the rifle pits, and no

end of other combats, including the storming of Sebastopol,

I cannot but think that I am being spared by an All-wise God

for some special purpose; that, to all appearance, He has

built a hedge around about me, and has permitted the deadly

weapons to go thus far and no farther, to show me in days to

come the finger of His love. Again, dear parents, look over

my letter wherein I describe that terrible 19th of October,

off the Cape of Good Hope, when to all human appearance the

ship "Owen Glandore" was lost, and all on board consigned to

a watery grave. You note that we lost all our boats, masts

and sail, and were nothing but a helpless tub floating with

a freight of 390 human beings, expecting every moment to be

launched into eternity. But just as our gallant captain said

all was lost, an inaudible voice said: "Peace be still,"

when the wind ceased, and all, except 17 men that had been

washed overboard, were saved. I find by the country papers

that summary punishment is being fast dealt out to these

wretches all over the country, and that they will not face

our men, the dreaded "Feringhees," as they call us, unless

behind strong positions, and that they are receiving daily

some very awkward lessons and have already found that our

reign in India is not all over.

These little Ghoorkas are the inhabitants of the Nepaul

Hills, and just at present they are worth their weight in

gold to us. I should think, from what I have read and heard

of them, that there are no better soldiers in the world, if

well led; and the Sikhs that gave us so much trouble in

1845-6 and 1848-9, are not far behind them. We have a

regiment of the latter here with us; they are fine-looking

men, not at all to be despised. I went, by permission,

through the Mutineers' camp a few days ago. I was astonished

to find that a number of them could speak English--mind,

they are all of them disarmed. We found some of them very

talkative, asking all sorts of questions about the Russians,

when they found we had been fighting them. I asked one

venerable looking officer, with his breast covered with

honours, what he thought about the Mutiny. His answer was

that it was brought about by bad, wicked men who had eaten

the Government salt; that there were good and bad in every

regiment, and that the bad men had roused them all. I asked

him if he, as an old officer, thought our Government would

have given in if we had been beaten at Delhi? "No, never"

was his reply. He stated that he had served us faithfully

for upwards of 40 years, that he had fought many a

hard-fought field against the Sikhs, and would never forsake

us; they might kill him if they liked, but he would be

faithful to the end. This old veteran could say no more, and

with the big tears rolling down his furrowed cheeks, he left

us with a "Salam, salam, sahibs." We found others looked at

us with contempt, but they were silent. The 16th Grenadiers

are one of the disarmed regiments here. I think I never

looked upon such a body of men; they may well be called

Grenadiers. I am not a waster, and I had to look up into the

face of every man I came near. Some rose to salute us, while

others sat contemptuously looking at us. I find they have

the reputation of being the best fighting regiment in the

East India Company. Some of them cursed the cavalry and said

it was all their fault they were disgraced as they were; and

that they would go to Lucknow and fight to the death for us,

if the Lord Sahib would let them. But I must bring this to a

close, or I could keep it up for a week. You ask me if you

may publish my letters. Please yourself; I state nothing but

facts. I hope this will find you all as it leaves me, in the

enjoyment of the best of blessings, good health, and believe

me, as ever,

Your affectionate Son,

T. GOWING,

Drill-Sergeant Royal Fusiliers.

P.S.--A long letter costs no more to send than a short one,

and one feels a pleasure in writing to those we love, but

cannot see. Keep up your spirits, mother.

T. G.

Meean-Meer, 26th May, 1858.

My Dear Parents,

Well, dear parents, as I have but little to do during the

heat of the day, I will try and amuse myself by giving you a

little more news. It is extremely hot here at present; in

fact, enough to roast one during the day, with a hot wind

blowing a perfect hurricane: and, talk about dust and sand,

it's enough to blind one. We have been treated of late to

several sand-storms, as they are called out here, and I

think they have given them their right name. It's awful to

stand and see them coming on: the whole heavens become

black, all is still, not a breath of air: all at once we are

enveloped in sand, the wind blowing enough to sweep all

before it. All doors and windows must be well secured, and

even then it is impossible to see across the room. If one is

caught outside, the safest thing to do is to lie down at

once: if not, you stand a good chance of being blown clean

off your feet and coming to mother earth rather clumsily.

Well, this rebellion has received its death-blow at Lucknow,

although the enemy will give us a lot of trouble in Oude and

Rawalcund; but they will not face our men if there is a back

door left open to escape by. As far as I can see, the

Fusiliers are doomed to disappointment; we must obey orders.

Our commander got a nasty rap from Sir Colin Campbell for

requesting to be allowed to go into Lucknow with us: "Stay

where you are; when we require your services we will send

for you." But it's as well to keep a good look-out upon the

Punjaub, for should the Sikhs break out we shall be in a

hornet's nest, as we are right in the midst of a most

warlike race of people, and not very far from the Afghan

frontier; in fact, the Punjaub extends right up to the mouth

of the Khyber Pass. Some of the most distinguished regiments

in our army are in the Punjaub at present; fine, stalwart

men, that might die, but would never yield! The

Faugh-a-Ballagh[23] boys--the 87th Royal Irish

Fusiliers--are here with us, backed up by the 27th

Inniskillings,[24] both of which noble regiments have taught

the French some very awkward lessons. They call the 87th the

"Aigle" catchers: they captured an eagle from the French on

the field of Barrosa, and routed a whole French division

with a headlong bayonet charge. They call the 27th the

Waterloo lambs, and nice lambs they are at present. Should

our turn come, I have not the slightest doubt they will find

the Royal Fusiliers still, as at the Alma and Inkermann,

true Britons. As it is, we have a good handful in front of

us, for they are a cut-throat looking crew; but they stand

in awe of us. I was talking only yesterday (through an

interpreter) to a venerable looking, intelligent Sikh, who

had fought against us in a number of fields. He informed me

that after the fields of Ferozeshah and Sobraon, his men (he

was an old general) said they would not face us any more, as

we were not men at all, but devils in the form of men, that

nothing could resist. As for this war, it would soon be all

over, and it would be a good job for the Punjaubees; they

would fill up our ranks, and fight to the death by the side

of such dare-devils. He further stated that he had four sons

already with Campbell Sahib, and if he had four more, they

should all go. It's all very well to talk like that now. An

Asiatic generally carries two faces under his turban, and,

mark me, our Government has a long purse, with plenty of

that which makes the wheel turn smoothly. Again, we have

been victorious all along the line, and so long as that is

the case, we shall have plenty to jump into the mutineers'

boats; but with the vast population around us, it would not

do to lose a single battle. Nothing must be left to chance;

and our Government, I think, knows well what it is about.

Rebellion must be crushed at any cost; then the people may

be treated kindly, giving them the right hand of fellowship,

with justice: protecting the weak from the oppressor, and

shielding the law-abiding subject from the lawless. Under

the old system this was unknown; for a chief rajah ruled

with despotic monarchy, and might, not right, carried sway

in every state. Accordingly, if the Maharajah (native king)

was in any way opposed by one of his subjects, he must die:

or if he was left alive, he was horribly mutilated and all

his goods confiscated.

Thus, hundreds of thousands are only too happy to be under

our flag, although I find the East India Company wink at

lots of things they do not want to see or know of. I am

sorry to say we are losing a number of men here through

fever. They tell us we shall have rain next month, then it

will be more pleasant. I am happy to say that I have my

health remarkably well. I am at it by 3 a. m. daily,

drilling first disorderly men; then recruits, then with the

regiment, then at the recruits again; so I have a lively

time of it, shouting and bawling about six hours every day,

except Sunday. I am diving into the "History of India"

(Thornton's). The amount of fighting our people have had out

here is marvellous. Our men have had to hold on by the skin

of their teeth; but the tables have been completely turned,

and it would not do for us to lose what our forefathers

fought so desperately for. Thus far, our men have proved

that they are worthy descendants of the conquerors of

Plassey, and that the prestige of our glorious old flag is

safe in our keeping. We still keep on with the executing

parades. The rope is used pretty freely. Mr. Calcraft is

never complained of for being clumsy. I for one am always

glad to get away from such scenes. I sometimes think there

ought to be a little more time given; the sentence is

passed, and often carried out within less than six hours.

But, again, you must remember we are playing for heavy

stakes, and they say all is fair in love and war. But I must

bring this to a close; it has been my fourth attempt. I am

writing this without a shirt on, nothing but a pair of thin

drawers, but the sweat is rolling off me like rain; so you

see we do not require much coal nor yet many blankets to

keep us warm. Good-bye, dear Parents.

And believe me as ever,

Your affectionate Son,

T. GOWING,

Drill-Sergeant Royal Fusiliers.

Meean-Meer, October 15th, 1858.

My Dear, Dear Parents,

Well, dear parents, a number of eventful things have taken

place since my last. A wing, that is, half the regiment,

have gone into the field, with half the 7th Dragoons, so the

two sevens are together after the enemy; the one to lather

and the other to shave them. A battery of artillery and a

regiment of Ghoorkas are with them. Our wing was near 800

strong. We have had a very near squeak with our nice

beauties in front of us. They meant mischief, but we have

not been caught napping; traitors often have two faces under

one hat. It had been brought to the notice of our commander,

General Wyndham, C.B., that these fellows were armed to the

teeth, smuggled into their camp, and that as only a slender

guard was over them, they would rise and murder all they

could lay their hands upon; and, making their way to

Lucknow, throw in their lot with their comrades who were

fighting the detested Feringhees. All was kept quiet. One of

their number had divulged the whole plan. One morning, a

short time ago, the cavalry, artillery, and the Sikhs

marched upon our parade-ground. We did not know what was up;

every man had been ordered for parade. Our recruits were

served out with arms. We were ordered to _loosen_ ten rounds

of ammunition before we left our bungalows. All sorts of

questions were being asked as to who were going to get it.

As soon as we fell in, we were ordered to load with ball;

but still all was kept quiet. The general rode up to us, and

we saluted him. The hero of the Redan called out, "Good

morning, Fusiliers; I have a little job for you this

morning." Then turning to Col. Aldsworth, he said, "I think

we shall get over it without much trouble." We then marched

off and formed line, with the Sikhs on our left. The cavalry

were formed up so that they could act at once if required.

The artillery, part with us, loaded with port fires lit and

part with the Sikhs. The mutineers were ordered to fall in.

The general and his staff rode up to them, and ordered them

to remain there, on pain of instant death. Two troops of the

Dragoons--about 120 men--dashed in between them and their

camp and faced them. A number of carts, with about 100

natives with them, with picks and shovels, were close behind

us; but still we did not know what was to be the next move,

until the general returned to us. He then informed us with

a loud voice, that in every tent in yonder camp there were

arms concealed under the soil. A number of sergeants were

ordered to go to the left company, I being one of them. That

company were at once ordered to advance. The whole camp was

struck; that is, all the tents were thrown down as quickly

as possible by the natives; the picks and shovels brought

into play. And true enough, arms of all descriptions were

found, wrapped in paper or cloth, just under the soil. We

found pistols, swords, guns, spears, and daggers by

wholesale. They were thrown into the carts. Some of our men

got a good haul in the shape of rupees and gold mohurs worth

about thirty-two rupees each, (£3 4s.); but _they_ did not

go into the cart. We found daggers in their bedclothing in

many cases. A nice youth from the Green Isle, a stalwart

Grenadier belonging to us, found a good _shillagh_, with

lead let into the end of it. He had the whole lot of us

laughing enough to break our sides, at his expressions and

antics. He flourished his stick over his head, and declared

that he would "bate" a squadron of yonder traitors with that

bit of a "_carbine_." The general was with us, and laughed

heartily at him, handing him his flask, when he drank to

ould England and ould Ireland, as, one handing the flask

back to the general, with a salute, he said he hoped that

"his 'oner's cow would niver run dry." These weapons had

been smuggled in from Wozerabad, the Birmingham of India,

about forty miles from here. The disarmed regiment at

Mooltan, we found by wire, had bolted, and were coming on to

join these gents; but what a surprise it must have been to

them when they, many of them, found a strong rope around

their necks before the sun set that day, while others were

sent flying from the cannon's mouth. You remember me telling

you about a venerable old native officer that had served us

for forty years, and was so talkative about his loyalty:

that he had fought and would again, as long as he could

stand, for the British, and that he would be faithful to

death, and got so excited that he even mustered tears. Well,

that very old hypocrite has turned out to be the ringleader.

His own letter to his friends at Mooltan, with the whole

plan, have condemned the old villain and others to a

traitor's death, and he, with nineteen others, were blown to

atoms a few days ago. It would have been all up with some of

us long ago, but a merciful God has been watching over us.

I have not the slightest doubt that we should have destroyed

them to a man, but we must have lost a number of valuable

lives. My company's bungalow is the nearest to their camp,

about 500 yards distant; so poor No. 7 would have been in as

warm a corner as we had on the 18th June, 1855. But, thank

God, it has been ordered otherwise. The Mooltan people, (I

mean the runaway mutineers), are being brought in daily; one

pound, or ten rupees, is offered by our people for every

one, dead or alive. The Sikhs are making a harvest. The

mutineers are tried by court-martial, condemned, and

executed at once. I think you will say that is sharp work.

My dear parents, 400,000 men with arms in their hands are

not to be played with; mind, it's death or victory with us.

If our Government were to dilly-dally with them we should

have the Sikhs against us, as the following, I think, will

prove: "It's time for Britons to strike home; our men are,

so to speak, fighting with halters around their necks. This

is a war of extermination. Some three or four regiments of

Sikhs are stationed at Dera Ishmal Khan, about 280 miles

from here. These gents have struck for the same pay the

British soldier gets, and are determined to fight for it, if

required. These are the nice allies that our wing, the

Dragoons, artillery, and Ghoorkas are gone against: and news

by wire has just come in that they have got a little more

than they asked for. They were confronted by our people, and

ordered to give up their arms; but would not without a

fight: so they got it quick and sharp--grape, shot, shell,

and musketry, with the cavalry riding through and through

them. It has struck terror into the Sikhs all over the

country." So you see that sharp diseases require sharp

remedies. It has reminded their brethren all over the

country that we are still the conquering race. The regiment

of Sikhs here call them at Dera mad fools; but the tables,

you must remember, have been turned. I see by the papers it

has had the effect of making our friends, the Sikhs,

remarkably civil in all parts of the country. Grape is the

best dose that could be administered to traitors; those that

escape remember it as long as they live, and will hand it

down to their children's children.