THE HUMOUR AND PATHOS OF ANGLO-INDIAN LIFE.
Extracts from his Brother's Note-book,
MADE BY DR. TICKLEMORE.
EDITED BY J. E. MAYER, M.D.
LONDON: ELLIOT STOCK, 62, PATERNOSTER ROW, E.C. 1895.
CONTENTS
NO. PAGE
I. INTRODUCTORY--'THE ELEPHANTA' AND HER PASSENGERS 1
II. CAPTAIN WHISTLER, AND LIFE IN CANTONMENT AT SECUNDERABAD 38
III. MISS B. AND HER PRESENT 86
IV. THE DELIGHTS OF INDIAN MUSIC 103
V. THE PASSAGE OF ARMS BETWEEN COLONEL I., AND MRS. G. 116
VI. MAJOR B.'S WELL-DESERVED DISCOMFITURE 133
VII. THE RACE-STAND AND THE FANCY BALL 144
VIII. WORSHIPPING TITLED FOLK 164
IX. A REMINISCENCE OF TRICHINOPOLY 177
X. CURIOUS MOPLAH CUSTOMS 201
XI. AN HOUR LOST AT MR. G.'S DINNER 243
No. I.
INTRODUCTORY.--THE 'ELEPHANTA': CAPTAIN TREVANION AND MR. MARSTON.
If the reader could call back the flight of time some twenty years, and
with an Ariel's wing transport him or her self on board the
homeward-bound P. and O. steamer _Elephanta_, he or she would, on a
certain evening between the hours of 7 and 8 p.m., or rather on most
evenings at that time, have seen assembled in the saloon, near the
piano, some twenty persons, ladies and gentlemen, standing, sitting, or
lounging about. In the centre of the group stood Captain James Ward, the
commander of the vessel, a tall, thin, wiry man, with handsome, but
weather-beaten, features, who had been for many years in her Majesty's
Navy, and retained in all respects the manner and bearing of a
gentleman.
On the Captain's right hand sat Lady Jervois, the young widow of old
General Sir Thomas Jervois, K.C.B., and a very pretty sample of
widowhood the Lady Sarah was. Her mourning became her wonderfully, and
showed the graceful outlines of her figure to perfection--a figure so
beautifully proportioned that the most rigid censor could find nothing
to object to, unless it might be a slight tendency to _embonpoint_,
which many regarded as an additional charm. Generally Lady Jervois bore
her recent loss with beautiful resignation; sometimes, indeed, the
piquancy of her observations or replies showed that her vivacity, if
subdued or scotched by affliction, was not altogether killed; and as the
world at large, and especially small worlds like those on board ship,
will ever build on slight foundations, the universal opinion seemed to
be that she would not long remain a widow.
The two ladies next in place to the Lady Sarah were Mrs. Smythe and Mrs.
Forbes; the former of these ladies sat on the Captain's left hand, and
the latter next to Mrs. Smythe; both possessed pleasing features, and
were good-looking persons, and both estimated the value of their
respective positions to a hair's breadth. Both of them were wives of
civilians in the Indian Service of about equal standing: the first a
commissioner, the second a collector. In manners and appearance both
these ladies had much in common; both exhibited certain points of
difference, which attracted the attention of the _oi polloi_ on board,
and probably caused them some amusement. Mrs. Smythe was shocked, and
felt immediately called on to correct the transgressor, if anyone was
thoughtless or unmannerly enough to call her Mrs. Smith; and Mrs.
Forbes, whose sister kept a milliner's shop in Ayr, lost no opportunity
of calling attention to the pedigree of her husband. She possessed
several books on heraldry, and was in some degree acquainted with the
shields, cognizances, and crests of most of the titled families in
Scotland. She was absolutely perfect in those with whom her husband's
family had intermarried, or were entitled to claim kindred. Whenever an
heraldic séance had taken place (as Mrs. Smythe used to term the
researches and expositions of Mrs. Forbes), the former lady would
compassionately remark, as soon as her friend was out of hearing, 'Poor
thing! her little weakness in this respect serves to amuse her and
occupy her mind; her own family were nobodies, that we all know, and she
has no children, therefore we must make excuses for her.' Good-nature,
perhaps, was not one of Mrs. Smythe's strongest points, and she was a
little over-sensitive regarding the pronunciation of her own name, but,
nevertheless, her talents as a musician won universal, well-merited
admiration. A good voice had been greatly improved by good training, and
the results were very charming. She was also a very superior performer
on the piano, and was consequently regarded as a great acquisition to
the whole party on board the _Elephanta_.
Two other ladies only (although the number of lady passengers was nearly
forty) appear to have attached themselves to the Captain's party. They
were both spinsters, Miss Perkins and Miss Wiseman. These two girls were
certainly to be commiserated, inasmuch as they had gone out to friends
or relatives in India in the hope of exchanging their maiden names for
some others, and had not succeeded in effecting this much-coveted
exchange. Their temporary protectors having been removed by death,
sickness, war, or other unhappy causes, nothing remained for them but to
return to the land from whence they came. Under such circumstances it is
not wonderful that an air of disappointment hung over them, and that
they sometimes gave utterance to remarks that betrayed the feeling which
it would have been wiser to have concealed. How it happened that these
young ladies failed to achieve their object I am quite unable to
explain; they each of them possessed an average share of good looks and
feminine attractions, nor were they destitute of most of those
accomplishments in which young ladies strive to shine. They played and
sang _a little_; they were grand at croquet, first rate at converting a
glass or delft jug into a china vase; did card and shell marks;
understood the language of flowers; could talk with their fingers;
danced round dances with a constancy and resolution that defied fatigue,
exhaustion, or even daylight; and, to crown all, they were proficients
in the science of flirtation; they had, in fact, become graduates, by
adopting the surest road to perfection; they had gained experience by a
most extensive practice, which commenced before they were thirteen years
old, and which since then they had never intermitted. With such winning
cards in their hand, their failure does seem surprising, and might
almost lead us to question the value of the last-mentioned
accomplishment, and to ask whether, independent of the case-hardening of
all young, fresh, and genuine feeling, it may not lead those who resort
to it to become on all occasions more or less deceitful; and whether it
may not sometimes recoil on the practitioner by teaching the opposite
party to practise equal deceit. I leave these questions to be debated
and considered by those whom it most concerns. I would only protest
against any argument being deduced from the wide adoption of the
practice.
I am not writing an essay on 'manners' or 'morals;' I will therefore
content myself with submitting to the candour and judgment of those most
likely to be affected by the issue, whether the practice of
demonstrating special interest and liking for any person, where no such
feeling exists, may not as often lose a husband as it gains one. I think
I have seen several instances of such a result. I will not affirm that
the two young ladies who gave occasion to these remarks were examples in
point; it is not at all unlikely that they may have been, and that the
mortification they were then suffering arose from the proficiency
alluded to. Be this as it may, these two young people, smarting under
disappointment, were objects for sympathy, as it seemed to me, but the
society on board entertained, I believe, little of this feeling. 'As
they have made their beds, so they must lie,' if I mistake not, spoke
the general opinion regarding them. And the judgment of the passengers
on board the _Elephanta_ will, I fear, be that of the world at large.
Let me here urge on those who make the pleasure of the moment their
guiding star, to lay this truth to heart, that in the battle of life
those who do not succeed must ever expect, rightly or wrongly, to have
the cause of failure set down to some fault or failing of their own.
With this note of warning we leave the ladies, and turn to the gentlemen
composing the party we are speaking of.
On board our steamer there were several officers of higher military rank
than Captain Trevanion, but as some of them were distinguished more by
their epaulettes and cocked hats than by any special qualities, and as
others did not belong to our party, they call for no special notice.
The reasons that induce us to give the young Captain of Artillery the
first place in this sketch will appear immediately. His reputation as a
gallant and accomplished soldier was attested, not only by the medals he
sometimes wore, and by the general orders which recorded his services,
but by the unanimous voice of those he commanded. The bursting of a
shell, which he had caught up and carried to a distance in order to save
his men, was the cause of his having been sent home; just as he flung it
away it had burst, shattering his left fore-arm. At first he suffered
much from the injury (which obliged him to wear the arm in a sling), but
he rejoiced in it. He knew he had saved his battery, his men knew it,
and his Queen, who had sent him the Victoria Cross on that account, knew
it also. Since he had been at sea, so great an improvement had taken
place that he was beginning to use his fingers again, and was able to
join in the dance, or in almost any amusement proposed. He possessed,
moreover, a good voice and a quick ear, which gifts, with a little
drilling from Mrs. Smythe, soon enabled him to join her in part-songs
and duets. In addition to his fame as a soldier, and good gifts as a
vocalist, the Captain was a most unassuming person, always good humoured
and obliging, for all which reasons, to say nothing of a commanding
figure and polished address, he was the most popular man on board.
The young gentleman who stood next to Captain Trevanion in general
estimation was Mr. John Marston, a young civilian, who during the
fearful scenes so recently enacted in India, by his remarkable
foresight, decision, and courage, and by the aid solely of his strong
sense and keen perceptions, read the signs of the times with such
accuracy, that before any acts of mutiny or rebellion had occurred in
his district he had taken possession of an old mud fort, disused for
years past, had it thoroughly cleaned out and repaired, that it might be
ready, as he said, for use as a granary. He next had the well thoroughly
cleaned and put in order; he then sent in supplies of every description.
Having made these preparations, he gradually called in every European
and Eurasian within his range. By personal application to the
headquarters of the division, backed by an official request in writing,
signed by the collector, he obtained a supply of arms and ammunition.
Finally, by running up mud walls, cajan roofs, pandals, bamboo mats,
etc., and tents of every size and description, he actually found
accommodation for one hundred families, besides those of the collector
and some immediate friends, so that when the impending storm burst on
the locality in question, and was raging all around, the party in the
old mud fort were, at least for a time, in safety. Within the area of
the old mud walls, which were luckily very thick, and about thirty feet
high, there were located a garrison, amounting to 120 men, counting both
Europeans and Eurasians. Besides these, there were some twenty native
servants, mostly ayahs; the men, all of whom, I think, were kitmunghars,
or dressing-boys, did not amount to half a dozen. No native was
suffered to go in or out of the place, and none were trusted with arms
of any kind, for reasons that are obvious.
By means of the mats, punkahs, connats, pandals, etc., noticed above,
the place was rendered habitable; but still, when all had been done that
could be done, the ladies with their families had much to endure; they
did it nobly, with a patient resignation and fortitude that had seldom
been equalled, never surpassed. As time wore on the surging tide of
treachery, blood, and cruelty made its way to the district in question,
and at last the yelling, screaming, hooting crowd of butchers,
threatening destruction in every shape and form, appeared before the
fort, gradually spreading themselves on every side. The number of these
ruffians might at this time amount to about 6,000. The nucleus of this
swarm of armed natives was composed of the bulk of two regiments of
Bengal Sepoys, amounting to about 1,000 men; the rest was made up of
liberated gaol-birds, gang robbers, thieves, and the idle riff-raff to
be found everywhere. At each angle of the fort small projecting turrets
had been built, which, by means of some repairs and sandbags, were
rendered tolerably secure. In each of these turrets four of the best
shots amongst the defenders were placed, so that every face of the
building was, to a certain extent, commanded. Sandbags between the
embrasures were further employed all along the walls, thus affording
additional protection to the defenders.
After the yelling and howling, accompanied by the beating of gongs and
tomtoms, and by noises of all kinds, had continued for some time, the
fire of small arms and gingals was resorted to, and kept up for two days
and nights, with little intermission, varied by occasionally throwing
fireballs into the place. These, however, except the burning of the
cajans, or thatch, of some of the extemporized huts, did little or no
harm. The continued discharge of gingals and musketry had inflicted no
damage whatever. Seeing this, and that the siege made no progress, the
leaders ordered scaling-ladders to be constructed, which was accordingly
done, and two attempts at escalade were made; both were repelled, and
considerable loss inflicted on the besiegers. In fact, the garrison had
so well employed their guns, rifles, and muskets, that more than one
hundred of their adversaries had been slain, and many more wounded. The
besiegers had, in consequence, retreated beyond the reach of small arms,
resolving, it seemed, to trust rather to the effect of starvation than
to that of storm.
The siege had now lasted six days, and no damage had been sustained by
the garrison, except the burning of some thatch already noticed, and the
loss of one young man who had rashly exposed himself--he was shot
dead--and a poor little girl, going to get water at the well, was killed
by the rebounding of a gingal-ball. Some few others had been wounded,
but not severely, and this was all. The great danger to be apprehended
was that, as large bands of the rebel Sepoys were marching in every
direction, the besiegers might be powerfully reinforced by numbers of
men thoroughly well trained and disciplined, and that these last would
effect by escalade what less numerous and less trained soldiers had
failed to accomplish. The very thing so much feared did actually occur
two days afterwards; several thousand of the trained traitors joined the
besiegers, bringing with them a battery of field-pieces, luckily only
nine-pounders.
Animated by the possession of artillery, and the presence of so large a
force of regular soldiers, two desperate attempts to storm the place
were made on two successive nights, the fire of the guns on each
occasion having been kept up for many hours without intermission before
the parties bearing the ladders moved forward; then the fire ceased,
and the stormers, making a rush, succeeded in planting several ladders,
up which the men swarmed with the greatest hardihood; but few reached
the tops of the ladders, and fewer still reached the top of the rampart,
or lived long enough to raise a cheer or shout to encourage their
comrades. All were shot, or hurled over the walls; and most of the
ladders were overturned before anyone could reach the upper steps.
The fire from the walls and turrets during these proceedings was so hot,
that more than 200 men were slain outright, and many more wounded. The
besiegers, in consequence, again drew off their forces beyond the range
of rifle and musket. At this time, the number of foemen surrounding the
fort could not be less than 9,000 or 10,000; they had completely
encompassed it on every side. They had pitched tents and erected huts in
every direction, seeming determined not to move from their position till
they had effected by starvation what they had failed to compass by
bolder and more rapid means. Provisions were beginning to fail the
garrison; all felt they could not war against famine. They had defended
themselves fifteen days, one against hundreds; but now their doom seemed
approaching. All were oppressed with the most gloomy anticipations.
In this extremity Mr. Marston called a committee of all who could be
spared from the walls. When about seventy of the brave defenders had
assembled, he explained to them the state of matters unreservedly, but
urged them not to despair, as it was clear, after counting the mouths
and carefully reviewing the supplies remaining, that by giving out
half-rations they could still hold out a week or ten days longer, and
that in this interval there was every hope of relief, if any one of the
officers commanding a loyal column of sufficient strength could be
apprised of their situation. Several voices cried out that no one could
pass through the numerous and watchful lines of the enemy, and that it
would be certain death to attempt it. Mr. Marston smiled, answering that
it would be certain death to all not to attempt it. 'I have taken
measures,' he continued, 'relative to the course of action advisable,
which I shall communicate when the fitting time arrives. Meanwhile, let
every man hope for the best, and do his duty as he has hitherto done
it.'
All, after hearing their young leader's words, and observing his
cheerful countenance, felt their hopes and courage revive, and all
determined to hold out to the utmost. Mr. Marston, having arranged for
the serving out of the reduced rations, called aside two friends--Mr.
Stewart, a civilian, junior to himself, but one on whose courage and
determination he knew he could rely, and Assistant-Surgeon Manners,
attached to the Collectorate, whose cool indifference under fire and
whose fame as a daring and successful tiger-shot were well known. To
them, and to Sergeant-Major White, whose services and experience had
been invaluable during the siege, and who, though old and wanting one
leg, retained still the courage of a lion unsubdued by years or wounds,
he spoke as follows:
'My friends, in our present position I see there is but one thing to be
done. I will myself attempt to penetrate through these thick-set lines.
Should I succeed, I will, if human effort can effect it, bring you
relief; if I fail, and fall into the hands of these butchers, you will
know I did all I could, and died in doing my duty.' 'Marston, you shall
not go!' exclaimed Manners. 'Your life is more valuable, your headpiece
twice as good as mine. Send me; I am quite ready, and will do all I
can.' 'No, no,' said Stewart; 'I am the youngest, and can best be
spared. Manners, as the only medical man, cannot leave. Send me, my
dear Marston; I will shrink from no peril, and will go at once.' 'Dear
friends,' replied Marston, taking a hand of each, while the tremulous
motion of his lips told how truly he felt their devoted friendship,
'this is not a time for words. I shall therefore only say, I feel your
kindness deeply, but cannot accept of it. I am resolved to make the
assay myself, and do not think me vain if I add that, from habits of
study and observation, I think I shall run less risk than either of you
would encounter in such an undertaking.'
The two young men continued to press arguments and entreaties on their
friend, till he cut Manners short by saying: 'You must, as the only
medical man, remain here.' And to Stewart he added, with a peculiar
expression of interest: 'How could you think for a moment, Charlie, that
I would run the chance of making Clara's bright eyes tearful for a lost
brother, when I could have saved him! Fie, man! think better of your
friend. And now for business. You must, all of you, in the first place,
solemnly pledge your faith to say no word to any soul respecting my
intention before I go, and afterwards to conceal my departure for as
many days as may be possible. My only chance of safety depends on your
silence, and your knowing this will, I am confident, ensure it.'
During the time of siege an aged peon, who had for thirty years been in
attendance on the Collector, died. His belt, shield, tulwar, and dagger
were brought into Mr. Marston's tent; then, under the plea of sunstroke,
his head was shaved, and he was kept in bed till the browning of his
face, hands, and body with coffee-berries was sufficiently strong; his
moustaches were then dyed black. After these preparations, he equipped
himself in every respect like a Collector's peon, and his disguise was
so perfect when he stood before his friends that even those who had
watched the various steps by which the metamorphosis was accomplished
could scarcely believe that John Marston the civilian and the turbaned
and belted peon before them were one and the same person. But, however
well calculated for deception the brown skin, shaven head, and
equipments may have been, Mr. Marston's fitness for the part he had to
enact did not stop here; his knowledge of the Oordu, Bengali, and other
dialects of Hindustani, was so remarkable, and so locally idiomatic,
that he had no difficulty in personating any Moosulman character. He
felt this, and therefore conceived that he was best qualified to face
the perils to be encountered in carrying into effect the enterprise
contemplated.
As soon as the night was sufficiently dark, the newly-manufactured peon
stood on the parapet, ready, by means of a basket, rope, and pulley, to
be let down, on that side of the fort completely in shadow, by his two
friends and the old sergeant, who muttered: 'Had I but the other leg, I
would gladly go instead of him; but I'm a useless old stump.' 'No, no,
my good old friend,' said Marston, shaking him cordially by the hand;
'you are best where you are, and instead of being useless, will be
invaluable to Stewart, who will find himself strong in your experience.'
The peon now seated himself in the basket, holding on to the rope. No
words were spoken, except that 'God bless you!' was reiterated as his
friends, with moistened eyes, lowered the basket. It soon reached the
ground; the peon stepped out, and moving cautiously, always in the
shade, was soon lost to sight. His friends watched him as long as he was
visible, putting up silent prayers for his safety; but no one ever
expected to see him again.
It would be too tedious to describe the numberless perils and trials
encountered and surmounted by our wise young peon, through his perfect
knowledge of the manners and customs of the Moslem race, his
imperturbable coolness and presence of mind. It is enough to say that,
after journeying three days and nights, he on the fourth day fell in
with General Neill's column, who, with his undeviating kindness and
humanity, as soon as he understood the imminent danger to which the
party left in the old mud fort were exposed, marched to their relief
without an hour's delay. During the march the General's only fear seemed
to be that he might not arrive in time. His constant mutterings as he
rode at the head of his men, with a wet cloth under his pith helmet,
took something of this form: 'The bloody, dastardly, treacherous
scoundrels! May God save the poor women and children, the poor
defenceless creatures!' 'Keep up, my lads! keep up, for Heaven's sake!
It's hot work, I know; but remember what you're striving for.' 'I pray
God to grant us His help, to give us strength to get up before the
butchers begin their work, and then'--his fiery spirit showing itself in
his flashing eyes and firmly-set teeth--'then, if we don't let them know
what cold steel means, may I never see the blessed sun again.'
The noble fellow did live to see the blessed sun again, but not before
he had inflicted a crushing punishment on those leagued around the old
mud fort, which he entered amidst the tears, blessings, and convulsive
sobs of those he had rescued from torture and death. The General's eyes,
as he looked around, were filled with moisture. 'Dear friends, I haven't
a hundred hands. I wish I had; but God bless you all! He has granted my
prayer; He has sent me in time; but had He not long since inspired my
young friend here with indomitable courage, extraordinary knowledge,
decision, and foresight, you would never have been placed in a position
to be defended, nor have had the supplies to enable you to hold out,
nor should I have had the opportunity, the blessed opportunity, of
rescuing you.'
Here we bid good-bye to the noble, true-hearted General Neill, who, like
almost all the men who are good and great, was vilified by the pitiful
wooden-headed worshippers of red tape. He despised it and them, devoting
his whole soul to saving the lives of his countrymen, with those of
their wives and families. He died at the taking of Lucknow,
comparatively young in years, though old in renown--died as he had
lived, in the service of his country; but his name still lives in the
hearts of Britain's sons, enshrined by that halo which undaunted
courage, guided by strong sense and a pure unpretending love of country,
alone can give.
The poor people whom he had rescued with one voice poured out their
hearts in blessings, and with tears in their eyes joined in the prayers
and shouted the names of Neill and Marston. At first they could scarcely
realize to themselves that they were safe; after nearly a month of daily
and nightly dread and danger they could scarcely believe that their
sufferings were over. To describe scenes like these accurately is
scarcely possible; such description must be referred to those endowed
with the highest powers of expression and the most grateful hearts,
since they alone may imagine, or can picture to themselves or others,
what they would have felt had they been placed in such a situation, and
this is all that we can do to make it understood.
In so far lifting up the veil from Mr. Marston's antecedents, more than
enough has been done, we trust, to explain why, young as he was, his
reputation stood so high. We feel that the amplitude of the narration
amounts almost to a digression, yet if the details interest the reader
half as much as they did the writer when first made acquainted with
them, their want of brevity may perhaps be forgiven.
The young civilian, wise beyond his years, and the soul of all that had
been done to shelter and defend his helpless friends, was throughout
specially cautious that everything required should be done in the name
of his chief, although the poor old Collector was so overwhelmed with
the novelty and unexpected horror of the position, that his utmost
contribution to the measures adopted amounted to no more than a 'Yes,'
or 'By all means,' or a nod of his head: but by this caution Mr. Marston
prevented any slur or blame from being thrown on his senior, who, though
unable to act in such an emergency, was fully capable of appreciating
the high feeling and delicacy evinced by his junior; and he loved and
respected him for it, as did every member of his family.
When his friends had been placed in safety Mr. Marston was actively
employed till the taking of Delhi, which put an end to this horrible
war. Fatigue, exposure, and constant headwork, added to what he had
previously undergone, at last broke down the young man's strength, and
he became so ill that he was advised to return to Europe. The truth was
that, the excitement being over, there was nothing to sustain him
against the inroads of disease, and we consequently find him among the
passengers on board our steamer. Youth, sea air, and buoyant spirits
soon enabled him to rally, and he became one of the most light-hearted,
joyous men of the homeward-bound party. He unpacked his cornet (on which
he played really well) and in a short time almost rivalled the
popularity of the Captain of Artillery.
There were many officers amongst the passengers who, in very trying
situations, had nobly upheld their country's fame and honour, and
several of these were not less worthy as men than agreeable as
companions, but as they did not possess qualities or accomplishments
that rendered them conspicuous, we do not notice them individually. The
exceptions to be made to this somewhat sweeping assertion or statement
refer to those gentlemen who sometimes described what they had seen on
the line of march, or gave some account of the various engagements, or
affairs of less importance, in which they had been personally concerned;
or to those who sometimes favoured the company with sporting narratives,
or finally to the doctor of the ship, Dr. Tobias Ticklemore, who was a
man of observation, had read a good deal, and was withal a very
good-natured fellow, so that while some smoked and others sipped brandy
pawney, he could remember or invent some tale for their amusement. He
therefore occupied a prominent place amongst those who belonged to the
section of story-tellers, or, as our neighbours would term them,
_raconteurs_. This partial sketch of the party assembled round the piano
in the saloon of our noble steamer will, it is hoped, invest their
conversation and remarks with some interest, which otherwise could
hardly have attached to them. The ladies and gentlemen referred to shall
now speak for themselves.
Captain Trevanion and Mrs. Smythe had just finished that charming duet
between Don Giovanni and Zerlina, 'La ci darem,' to the general delight
of the audience, and perhaps to their own, if we might guess so much
from the obvious pleasure with which they received the thanks and
applause of those around them. After a judicious interval, Captain
Ward's voice was heard entreating someone to follow the good example
that had been set. 'Come, ladies, come, gentlemen, do not let me beg in
vain; we have had a sweet duet, sweetly sung, and previously we had Mr.
Marston's cornet rendering of "Ah che la morte," which made us long more
than ever to get home, that we may hear it once again from Mario the
unapproachable. But we are losing time; will no one help us to charm the
fleeting hours, yet make them seem too short?' 'Really,' said Lady
Jervois, 'the Captain grows so poetical that we shall begin to suspect,
when he tells us he is looking at the sun, that he is communing with
Apollo.' 'No, dear Lady Jervois, I only seek to find the angle at which
the sun's ray strikes my sextant, when my chronometer tells me it is
twelve o'clock. I angle for nothing else.' 'Well,' returned the lady,
laughing, 'if we accept that statement for fact, I fear you must stand
convicted by your own admission of great disrespect to the god of day.'
'How so, lady fair?' 'Why, do you not admit that you seek, in an
indirect way, to obtain certain information by your angling? And is that
not equivalent to putting fishing questions to the day god, which is
very disrespectful? So take care and rein in your wit.' 'How can I do
that, Lady Jervois, when there is nothing to rein in?' 'What, angling
again?' returned the lively lady; 'but you will catch no fish this time.
I won't see the line.' 'Upon my word,' whispered Miss Perkins to Miss
Wiseman, 'this is, I dare say, very witty, and I suppose classical, but
I don't know anything about heathen gods and goddesses; nevertheless, it
seems to me not a bad attempt on the part of my lady widow to get up a
flirtation.' 'Not at all unlikely, I dare say,' replied Miss Wiseman. 'I
didn't hear all; there seemed to be a good deal of laughing, though.'
Captain Ward's voice was again audible, begging that someone would sing
a song. Then, after a silence, 'If that is too great a favour to expect,
will no one give us an anecdote, or tell us a story? Surely, among so
many gentlemen who have been in the field, and who are almost all of
them sportsmen, there must be much to speak of? Come, gentlemen, a tiger
hunt, a quarrel, a sample of Afghan clemency, a specimen of red-tape, a
bit of pipeclay, anything, reminiscences, experiences, _quelquechose
pour passer le temps_.' After a time, 'Is it really so, all silent? Then
we must ask the Doctor; he has, I know, an inexhaustible stock; he is
in this respect the double of the "Pasha of many tails." Come, Doctor,
you are our sole resource.' 'I really can't see that,' returned the
Doctor; 'upon my soul I can't! How can I be your sole resource so long
as you affirm that I am the double of some other gentleman, which, if I
really am, makes me singularly double; which, again, everyone must admit
is doubly singular?' 'Oh, Doctor, Doctor! how can you go on so?' said
the two young ladies, tittering. 'And after all your promises of
reformation and amendment,' said Mrs. Smythe. 'Never mind, Dr.
Ticklemore,' interposed Lady Jervois, 'your quips and quillets make us
all laugh, whether we will or no.' 'Don't take his part, Lady Jervois,'
said Captain Trevanion, 'he's incorrigible, and it was the same from the
commencement of our acquaintance. The first inquiry I made on reaching
the deck of the _Elephanta_ was for the Doctor (the then state of my arm
making me rather anxious to see him); a little sprat of a middy, who
seemed to be the only person on board in the shape of an officer,
answered my inquiry by informing me that the Doctor had taken a run on
shore, but was to be on deck again before eight bells. These adverse
conditions being beyond my power to control, I had nothing for it but to
wait, and to amuse myself as best I could. Some tea and dry toast, which
the steward sent me, and the last number of the _Cornhill Magazine_,
enabled me to effect this pretty fairly, and by-and-by the looked-for
son of Esculapius arrived, but in such a pickle that----'
'I say, Trevanion,' exclaimed the Doctor, 'fair play, no tales out of
school; that would be taking a dirty advantage of a man's misfortunes,
and be altogether unfair.' 'Well,' returned the Captain, 'there's no
need to take any dirty advantage; the _statu quo_ was dirty enough in
all conscience.' 'Oh, let us hear,' exclaimed the ladies, 'pray let us
hear, Captain Trevanion!' 'Come, Trevanion, don't be so shabby, said
the Doctor; 'if the incident is to be told, at all events let me tell it
myself.' 'On one condition,' replied the artilleryman, '_i.e._, that the
narrative is to be recounted _bonâ fide_, without alteration or
subtraction; and you'll not make any addition to it, I'm quite sure.'
'But,' said Lady Jervois, 'in enforcing a confession of past misfortunes
from poor Dr. Ticklemore you seem to me, Captain Trevanion, to be wholly
oblivious of the charge you brought against him as incorrigible. You
were about to adduce something in support of this charge, if I mistake
not? Pray afford us the opportunity of judging of the value of this
support, and we can hear Dr. Ticklemore's confession afterwards. We, who
form the jury in this case, are not willing that the accused should be
borne down by clamour or many words, as I have been told sometimes
happens in other places.'
'You see, Lady Jervois,' returned Trevanion, 'I was interrupted in my
narrative by the accused himself, who claimed to be his own reporter in
this matter, which in courtesy I think we must allow him to be;
therefore I will only say, judging from his crushed hat and sandy, muddy
coat, that there had been a fall, and a closer connection with Mother
Earth than gentlemen generally like to indulge in when attired for a
ride on the Madras beach. Of how this came about, as he promises to
inform all present truly, I say nothing, but at the time, seeing him
under the influence of a little excitement, I did all I could to calm
and soothe him; I advised his taking a glass of brandy and soda-water,
which he did. I listened to his statement with a gravity which,
considering the details, was truly marvellous, even to myself, and
allowed him in silence to recover his equanimity by giving free scope to
all and sundry of his pious little wishes for the benefit of more than
one individual, but specially for that of a certain Mr. Jack Horseyman;
whom, it would seem, though an old schoolfellow, the Doctor devoted for
a long time to come to quarters which have so often been described with
such precision and minuteness as almost to induce suspicion of personal
acquaintance on the part of those who furnished the interesting details.
But, be this as it may, this _embarras des richesse_ entirely relieves
me from the necessity of description. I will merely indicate the
locality by remarking that I believe they don't want any coals there.
Having shown my sympathy by my silence, by the gravity of my
countenance, and by my attention as a listener, I endeavoured still
further to soothe the Doctor's feelings by telling him some of my own
mishaps in the hunting-field, and in particular, on the last occasion of
my putting in an appearance there, the narrow escape that myself and my
horse had, when both of us, in consequence of coming suddenly on a
sloping rock, the face of which (from the severe weather) was a sheet of
ice, slid down near a dozen yards, the horse, as it were, sitting on his
haunches and actually scraping his hocks. "Oh," observed the Doctor,
"that was nothing; merely a freak of Mr. Jack Frost, by which he
converted you both into a pair of slippers." Now I appeal to you, after
this, if his is not an inveterate form of a disease which, continually
indulged in, becomes highly criminal, and if he is not justly condemned
to suffer all the pains and penalties laid down in the statute provided
for duly restraining and intimidating such stubborn offenders?'
'Why, truly,' said Lady Jervois, laughing merrily, 'you have brought
forward strong evidence, I confess; but you know one swallow does not
make a summer.'
'Oh, that argument can scarcely be admitted,' said Mr. Marston; 'I agree
entirely with Trevanion, Ticklemore is really a dreadful character. It
was but the other day I remonstrated with him on account of these evil
proclivities of his. In reply, he asked me, in the gravest manner, if I
did not know that he was a surgeon? "What's that to do with it," said I,
"except that it's all the more reason that you should conduct yourself
with greater sobriety?" "That's all you know about it," retorted he,
"but you ought to remember that the study of the 'humerus' is a part of
my profession. Ha!" continued he, "have I caught you on the funny-bone?"
and then he went off chuckling. "Confound you, you catch one at every
turn," I muttered, though I could not help laughing. You see, he's
incorrigible.'
'I suspect,' replied the lady, 'there are more incorrigibles than one;
but let us hear the Doctor; I see he is about to speak.'
After a pause, Dr. Ticklemore stood up, and with a solemn air spoke as
follows: 'I thought till now that at least my fair friends would have
granted me a fair hearing, but instead of that I have not even been
allowed to state the reasons that make it impossible for me to comply
with Captain Ward's request. I have been interrupted by false friends--I
might say covert and insidious enemies'--('Hear, hear,' from Captain
Trevanion and Mr. Marston)--'for no other purpose than to harrow my
feelings, and exhibit their own malicious enjoyment of another's woe by
trumpeting forth little matters not worth repeating, each discharging an
envenomed arrow because of the trivial passing confidences which my
guileless disposition and trusting nature had induced me to make.
"Friendship's but a name," the poet says, and I, alas! have found it
so.' (Loud laughter from the gentlemen, with 'Bravo, Doctor; you have
made a capital defence,' the ladies joining in the laughter, allowed
that the Doctor had come off with flying colours.) 'But,' said Lady
Jervois, 'what about the crushed hat and muddy coat? I should like to
hear something about these little matters.' (Cries of 'Explain, explain!
listen to the Doctor's explanation.') 'Lady Jervois, and ladies and
gentlemen all,' returned Dr. Ticklemore, 'I have promised that I would
explain these mysteries, and I will do so; but, like men in more exalted
places, when certain explanations are called for I do not find the
present time convenient, or the public welfare will not permit me at
present to be more explicit, so I would rather, if you will graciously
concede so much to me, finish the argument referring to Captain Ward's
request.' 'Oh!' said the lady, 'it is impossible to deny a solicitation
urged in a manner so complimentary; pray proceed, Doctor, with your
argument.' ('Go on,' from all sides.) 'You see,' said Dr. Ticklemore, 'I
had not said half I intended to say when I was interrupted; but now that
the sequence of the propositions has been broken, I am required to go
on. It will not be so easy for me to show their logical dependence one
on the other as it would have been. The fact is,' continued the Doctor,
'you were most of you in such a hurry to condemn me, that you would not
let me speak when I was ready to do so, and now I must rearrange my
ideas.' 'We admit you have been very ill used,' said Lady Jervois, 'but
pray go on. We are all sure that there will be no difficulty about your
ideas if you don't make any. Once more we pray of you to proceed.' 'Pray
go on,' said Captain Ward; 'you may be sure, after this alarming
preface, he has more crackers to let off.' ('Go on, Doctor; go on,' from
all sides.) 'Well,' said the Doctor, 'to stop me in the middle of my
speech, as you have done, is rather an Irish mode of getting me to go
on, isn't it? But I suppose it's like the remark about the crackers, to
be taken by contraries; you say, go on, but I apprehend you mean, go
off!'
More tittering and laughter, but this time the Doctor would not be
stopped.
He continued thus: 'You, Captain Ward, have gravely affirmed that I am
someone's double, which is neither more nor less than stating that I am
a ghost, an immaterial airy nothing; but let me tell you that it is not
immaterial to me to be made nothing of; it is not treating me with the
respect due to a man of my weight. Besides, although you are so ready to
deny my gravity, and to accuse me of lightness in many respects, even in
my behaviour, you will find that the force which pulls all things over
the surface of the globe towards its centre requires upwards of twelve
stone to counterbalance my corporeal entity, which, I take it, is a very
good material proof that if I am a ghost, or, as you term it, a double,
I am also an individual of some weight. Now if I am myself and also a
double, I must be something besides myself; for such a one to attempt to
comply with Captain Ward's request would not only prove him to be an
insane double, but doubly insane; therefore you see----'
'Hear the fellow!' cried Captain Ward. 'Never did a thimble-rigging
Political double as he is doing. I'll tell you what, Dr. Tobias
Ticklemore, if you don't stop your atrocities, which are ten times worse
than those of the Bulgarians,[1] for yours are not manufactured in
nineteen cases out of twenty by the Russians, but are actually
perpetrated before our very faces, and in the presence of those whose
nerves ought to have been spared such terrible trials, I see, we shall
be obliged to order a drumhead court-martial, and we'll call in Judge
Lynch to act as provost-marshal, who always convicts, and not only
convicts, but carries sentence into execution with such wonderful
rapidity that the offender is suspended almost before he can look round;
so be wise in time, Toby Tickle, or you'll get a tickler for Toby, that
you may rely upon.'
'Oh,' replied the Doctor, 'if you really have the cruelty, the
inhumanity, the barbarity, to threaten me with _sus. per col._, I fancy
I must not hang fire lest I hang myself! Nevertheless, I think it due to
myself to protest against the whole proceeding as illegal; there is a
manifest flaw in the indictment. Your orthography is all wrong; I have
neither three tails, nor many tails.'
'That's being hypocritical as well as hypercritical, Doctor, if not
contumacious; spell it another way, and you have not three tales, but as
many as you please.'
'Oh, oh!' said the Doctor, 'is that the plan you would adopt to get
innocent people into trouble? but you won't take anything by your
motion, for I shall presently show that, spell the words as you will,
tails and tales are in truth equivalents. "T" is common to both words,
and therefore goes for nothing, being equal to itself; and ales, at
least in India and all tropical climates, is represented by ails;
therefore, whichever way you spell the word, you gain nothing. For the
second part of the word has been shown to be equivalent to the second
part of the second word; and the first part of the first word having
been found equal to the first part of the second word, the two wholes
are found to be equal, Q.E.D.'
'Gentlemen,' said Captain Ward, 'what do you say to this--is it not
intolerable? Is it not trifling, barefaced trifling, with authority?
After the atrocities of which this man has been convicted, on the most
unanswerable evidence, that of our own senses, for him to begin again
in the same strain is clearly an aggravation of the original offence; to
me it seems a case of unexampled audacity, deliberate and premeditated,
with his logic, his mathematics, and his Q.E.D. I declare, I think there
is nothing for it but to confirm the sentence reserved for
consideration, and on account of the aggravation to order that the
suspension be carried out in chains.'
'Oh, horrible! most horrible!' cried the Doctor; 'then I must bend to
fate. No one likes suspense, to say nothing of the chains, and I in this
am no exception to the world at large. True, I have seen men hung in
chains who seemed to be proud of them, and wore them ostentatiously,
but----'
'But, sir,' said Captain Ward, 'you are keeping us in suspense, thereby
incurring heavier penalties. Remember, alacrity in the performance of
duty is the only way to obtain mitigation, or the sentence will have to
be carried out in chains.'
'Chains,' said the Doctor, 'are horrible--chains of all kinds, except
silken ones, of which I have no knowledge save by hearsay.'
'Oh, oh!' cried Miss Perkins, 'who do you think will credit that
statement, Dr. Ticklemore?'
'And why do you wear that gold locket that you never show to anyone?'
said Miss Wiseman.
'I fear, ladies,' observed Captain Ward, 'that this Doctor is a gay and
faithless character, and an old offender against a certain little deity
that it is not necessary to describe more particularly just now; he has
for other offences been convicted as an incorrigible, and is at this
very time under sentence of _sus. per col._, unless he saves himself by
ready obedience to the order of the Court; therefore it may be as well
to postpone the consideration of this additional charge relative to the
locket till we see how he conducts himself: if truculent and refractory
he knows his doom, if, on the contrary, he exhibits a proper and decent
penitence for his manifold offences, and incontinently addresses himself
to his task----'
'Incontinently!' exclaimed the Doctor. 'Surely, Captain Ward, you would
not recommend anything bordering on that in the present company.'
'You abominable misinterpreter of words! you know very well that I used
the expression in the sense of quickly, immediately.'
'Oh,' said the Doctor, with as much simplicity as he could throw into
his countenance, 'I am greatly relieved; but, in truth, Captain Ward,
knowing my highly delicate and sensitive moral organization, you should
be more considerate.'