Camp, near Jarruk, on the banks of the Indus,
Twenty miles from Hydrabad,
January, 31st, 1839.
MY DEAR FATHER,--I had fully intended this letter for Kitty, but such a
dreadful event happened in our regiment yesterday, that I was afraid, if
she was at all unwell when she received the letter, connecting it, as
she would, with me, it might throw her into some dreadful fever, or
something of that sort. I have very little time to write, as the post
leaves this, by steamer, at three o'clock to-day; and I have a great
deal to do during the day. I think it my duty, however, to write, as the
report of the circumstance might get into the papers without mentioning
names, or giving wrong ones, and you might be needlessly alarmed.
To strike at once _in medias res_, this event is no less than the
horrible death of three of our officers in a burning shikargur, or large
thicket, enclosed by the Ameers for the preservation of game. The names
of the poor, unfortunate fellows are Sparky (whom, by-the-bye, you
might have seen at Chatham,) Nixon, and Hibbert. The two first, Lieut.
Sparke, in the Grenadiers, and Nixon, in the Light Company. Hibbert was
assistant-surgeon. They were three of the finest hearted fellows: Nixon,
a long time one of my fellow subs in the Light Company. (I can hardly
write, my hand shakes so.) Poor Hibbert was an exceedingly clever
fellow, and a great traveller, and one of the most beautiful draughtsmen
you could meet with any where. They are all three a terrible loss to our
corps. I will tell you the mournful tale as it happened. We arrived here
on the 25th. I breakfasted on Tuesday with them at mess, which was the
last time I ever saw them alive: they were in exceedingly high spirits.
The success of an enterprise the day before appears to have determined
them to go upon another expedition on this day, which at first sight did
not appear half so hazardous as it unfortunately proved to be; this was
no less than going into a shikargur (of which I have explained the
meaning above) about four or five miles in the rear of our camp, and
which was supposed to be well stocked with game. It happened that this
jungle had been set on fire about two days previously, most likely by
some of our camel drivers, or other native followers: some said it was
done by the Beloochees; but this I think very unlikely, as it is dead to
leeward of our camp. Well, they did not appear in the evening, and we
began to be rather alarmed on their account: however, we thought they
would turn up by some chance or other. Next morning (yesterday), when
the regiment fell in, an hour before daylight, which the whole camp does
here every morning, as we are supposed to have a hostile force not very
far from us, they were reported absent. Breakfast came; no tidings of
them: ten; eleven o'clock; and they began to be the talk of the whole
camp. However, we speculated that the worst that could have happened to
them was being taken prisoners by a party of Beloochees, and kept as
hostages, or something of that sort. At twelve, General Willshire became
so alarmed and anxious about them that he sent out a troop of the 1st
Light Cavalry to scour the jungles, and discover what they could of
them; another officer sent out a party of six natives, with the promise
of a reward of two hundred rupees if they could find any tidings of
them. Well; the day went on; and at mess, at six o'clock, nothing had
been heard relative to their fate, except that a little dog belonging to
poor Nixon returned to camp about four o'clock. About eight o'clock I
was in Dickinson's tent, smoking a cheroot, &c., previous to turning in,
when one of our servants rushed in with the dreadful intelligence that
the bodies had been found in the jungle by the Light Cavalry. It struck
us at first so unexpectedly, and as being a thing so dreadful, that we
would hardly believe it; however, all doubt was soon changed into
horrible reality by the arrival of the bodies within our lines. I was
determined not to see them; but there was a horrible fascination which
drew one along with the rest to the hospital tent, where they were
lying.
* * * * *
Twelve o'clock.--Well; I am just returned from seeing the last honours
paid to their remains; it is a melancholy business a military funeral;
every officer in camp attended; and, after all, they have had the
satisfaction of a Christian burial, which may not be our luck in a short
time. I do not know why, but this sad event has made me an old woman
almost! They lie side by side on a hill just in the rear of our camp;
"no useless coffin enclosed their corse;" but there they lie together,
wrapped in their cloaks. Peace to their manes! We intend erecting a
monument to them, if possible. I learned that some of the staff had been
to the jungle to investigate it thoroughly to-day, and from various
circumstances, have come to the conclusion that they had climbed up some
high trees, which surrounded the place where they fell, in order to
shoot the game as they came out, and that before they had time to make
their escape, a breeze came, which brought the smoke, and which most
likely stifled, or at least rendered them senseless. Let us hope that
this was the case, as I should think that so their death would not have
been very painful: the position in which their bodies were lying when
found seems to warrant this supposition. A porcupine was found close to
their trees, burnt to a cinder. It blew very hard last night, and I
passed an almost sleepless night in thinking of these poor fellows. It
gives a man an awful shake in going through life, seeing the very
fellows you have lived with for the last two years, in whose proceedings
you have borne a part, brought suddenly before you in such a state: a
man in these situations thinks more in two hours than he does in the
whole course of his natural life under ordinary circumstances. It proves
what helpless beings we are; how little we can control our own actions:
truly, "in the midst of life we are in death."
I wrote to you on the new year's day everything that had happened up to
that time; the letter was to have gone by the overland mail of the 19th.
I hope you will receive it safe, as I should be sorry you should lose
anything from me now, as it may be the last you may ever have, so
precarious are the chances of a soldier's life on actual service.
Shortly after writing to you, I got ill again, and it ended in a slight
fever, which cleared me out altogether, since which I have been in
perfectly good health, thank God. I came off the sick list on the 22nd
January, the day before we marched from Tatta. I will give you my
journal from that time to the sad event which has just happened.
_Wednesday, Jan._ 23, 1839.--On this day, at 6 A.M., the corps d'armé of
Sinde marched out of the encampment near Tatta _en route_ for Hydrabad,
the Cutch Auxiliary Horse in advance, detaching flankers, &c., then the
main body in the following order:--The 4th Light Dragoons in front;
next, one squadron of horse artillery, followed by two squadrons of the
1st regiment of Bombay Light Cavalry, one company of foot artillery,
then the first brigade of infantry, under General Willshire, consisting
of the Queen's Royals, 5th and 1st, or Grenadier regiment, Native
Infantry, a second squadron of horse artillery, a second company of foot
artillery; the 2nd infantry brigade, consisting of H.M. 17th regiment,
the 19th and 23rd regiments Native Infantry; the whole closed by two
other squadrons of 1st Light Cavalry. We (i.e., the 1st brigade) left
our ground a quarter before six, and halted on a rising ground close to
the walls of Tatta, whence we had a very fair view of the cavalry,
artillery, &c., that were in the advance of us, winding their way
through a pretty avenue of trees: the whole presented a very animated
and martial appearance, the different corps marching off with colours
uncased, band playing, &c. Cunningham's, or the Poonah Auxiliary Horse,
having only arrived the night before, did not join the main body, but
came up somewhat later in the day, I believe. The march of the main body
this day was not more than ten miles; but our brigade was posted two
miles in advance of the rest of the force, and the Queen's were nearly a
mile in advance of the other two regiments of the brigade; so that we
marched about thirteen miles. We encamped in a rather pretty valley
surrounded by barren rocks, with our right resting on a shikargur (or
hunting thicket); we had a fine pebbly bottom, which was a great relief
to our feet after the hot dust of Tatta. My baggage did not make its
appearance till about five o'clock, my unfortunate young camel having
proved restive, and flung its load two or three times, thereby
considerably damaging my cot and table: mess at six,--nothing
particular.
_Thursday, Jan_. 24.--In consequence of our being so much in advance,
our "rouse" did not sound till six o'clock this morning, and we did not
march off our ground till seven. After we had marched about two miles;
we halted and piled arms, to enable the cavalry, &c., in our rear to
pass on, and thus we had a very good review of them: they marched in the
same order as yesterday, except that in addition, and near to the light
cavalry, came Cunningham's horse from Poonah: this was the first time we
had seen them; they made a very splendid appearance, about 600 strong,
and well equipped in every respect; their dress and accoutrements the
same as the Cutch Horse, (of which I gave you a description in my last,)
with the difference of wearing yellow and red instead of green and red.
We had a very pleasant march this day, except the latter part, which was
exceedingly dusty; some very pretty and romantic scenery, consisting of
ruined forts, abrupt hills, large rocks, interspersed with some
beautiful lakes here and there. We reached our encamping ground rather
late--half-past eleven o'clock--lost my breakfast, owing to my native
groom, who carried some stock for me, and to whom I had given directions
to wait by the regiment till they had piled arms and were dismissed,
having disobeyed my orders, and cut off with my tatter to the river,
about three miles off: gave chase directly the parade was dismissed, and
walked through a shikargur to the river, but could not find the rascal.
I had, however, a good view of the Indus, which does not here appear to
be very broad: a cruel hot day; and, in addition to my other
misfortunes, was nearly stifled by the clouds of dust raised by cavalry
of every description leading their horses to water. On my return to camp
I luckily found my baggage arrived, and had a good snoose till six
o'clock, mess time; heard at mess that the Ameers had agreed to all our
terms, and would do everything to assist our passage through their
country; that we were to march straight to Shikarpoor, without halting
at Hydrabad; after remaining at which place for some time, we should
advance upon Candahar,--all fudge. Our position this halt was about the
centre of the army,--bad encamping ground,--very dusty.
_Friday, 25th_.--Left our encampment at six, in the same order as
before; our out-lying picket, under Stisted, joined us near our first
halt, about three miles. Warlike news,--the Ameers had rejected our
treaty, and that a force of 10,000 Beloochees had crossed the river; and
would probably give us some trouble. Stisted had received orders to keep
a very sharp look-out with his picket, as there was a chance of its
being attacked: Jephson joined, with news from Sir J. Keane, that there
was every chance of our being attacked on the line of march; however, we
were not, although we passed over some very pretty ground for a battle.
Marched into our encamping ground about half-past ten, near a
half-ruined village called Jarruk, on the banks of the river; the army
here took up a rather strong position, on a chain of heights; our
brigade being, however, pushed on again in advance, on some low and
jungly ground near the river; the Queen's again on the extreme front.
News still warlike; the Beloochees, under Meer Mahomet, one of the
Ameers, and the most restive of them, being supposed to be near us in
great force, though nobody seemed to know where. All the oot-wallas, or
camel-drivers, put under charge of sentries, as there was reason to
suspect they meditated deserting in the night with our camels. Bad
encamping ground again,--a dusty, half-cultivated field.
_Saturday, 26th_.--Turned out of bed between two and three, A.M., with
orders to fall in, at a moment's notice, in "light marching order," as
an attack was strongly expected. Spies had reported that 10,000
Beloochees were in a shikargur not seven miles from us, and that they
intended a night attack; everybody in the highest state of excitement,
pistols loading, &c. Fell in an hour before daylight; cavalry sent out
in all directions; staff and field-officers galloping about like mad
fellows; remained under arms till day had fully broke, when we were
dismissed, but commanded not to stray far from camp: great excitement
all day; Cunningham's horse sent out to reconnoitre; returned late at
night, reporting that they had patrolled sixteen miles in advance, had
closely examined the shikargur in question, and could find no traces of
the Beloochees,--a strong suspicion, however, remained that there were
Beloochees in our neighbourhood.
_Sunday, 27th_.--Under arms an hour before daylight; no further news;
camp quiet. As I was to be on out-lying picket this evening, rode out
after breakfast to look at my ground, which appeared rather strong,
intersected with ravines, brushwood; &c., and a good place to hold
against cavalry. Mounted picket at five o'clock, P.M., fifty-seven rank
and file, two serjeants, four corporals, and one bugler, a chain of nine
double sentries, the right resting on the river and the Hydrabad road,
and the chain running along a dry nullah, till it communicated with the
sentries of the 5th regiment's picket; a corporal's party of three men
detached in advance to an old ruin on the left front; a picket of
cavalry about two miles in advance, with videttes on some high ground. A
beautiful moonlight night, and not very cold till about one o'clock in
the morning; lay on the ground and thought of what was going on at
Brookhill and fancy ball at Torquay; visited my sentries continually;
the men in high spirits, and very much on the alert; nothing
extraordinary occurred.