Mohun ke Serai.
We made our first march. The bugle sounds at half-past five to wake us,
though the camels perform that ceremony rather earlier, and we set off
at six as the clock strikes, for as nobody is allowed to precede the
Governor-General, it would be hard upon the camp if we were inexact. The
comfort of that rule is inexpressible, as we escape all dust that way.
G. and F., with Captain N. and Captain M., went in the carriage towards
Chumar, and I went with Captain J., Captain D., and W. the regular
route, each on our elephant half-way, and the other half on horseback.
It is very pleasant and cool at that time, really nice weather, and we
had a short march--only seven miles and a half. It seems somehow wicked
to move 12,000 people with their tents, elephants, camels, horses,
trunks, &c., for so little, but there is no help for it. There were a
great many robberies in the camp last night. Mrs. A. saw a man on his
hands and knees creeping through her tent, but she called out, and he
ran away without taking anything. Mr. B. says, when he and his wife were
encamped last year on this spot, which is famous for thieves, they lost
everything, even the shawl that was on the bed, and the clothes Mrs. B.
had left out for the morning wear, and he had to sew her up in a blanket
and drive her to Benares for fresh things. W. and I went out on the
elephant in search of a sketch in the afternoon, and G. and F. came
back to dinner very much pleased with their expedition. Those
unfortunate men who were parted with yesterday have plagued my heart out
all day. Of course, Captain J.'s soft heart was melted early in the
morning, and he came to beg to have them back again, but he owns it was
a shocking atrocity according to the customs of the country, and if we
were too easy about it, of course it would be said that G. despised and
affronted the native princes, and even that our servants would think so;
but still it was difficult to be firm. There is something so very
imploring in these people. Three times they contrived to get into my
tent with their relations, and some of the old servants to help them,
and they cry, and lay hold of one's feet, and somehow it seems so odd
not to forgive anybody who wishes it even less humbly than they do.
My jemadar was interpreting for them, with tears rolling down all the
time, and it shocked me when he said: 'They say that they have followed
lordship and ladyship great way from their own homes; they made one
fault, one very bad one, but God Almighty even forgive everybody once,
else what become of us all?' I could not help thinking of the 'seventy
times seven;' and if we were forgiven only once, what, as he says, would
become of us? However, I pacified them to a certain degree by giving
them money enough to take them back to Calcutta, and explained that if
it had been any offence against our customs we should have overlooked it
directly, but as it was a great disrespect to one of their own princes
we could not, out of regard to their own country, forgive it; and any
compliment to India goes a great way. My men told me afterwards, that it
was very true one native would tell the other that the rajah had been
ill-treated, and that they would say _this_ Governor lets even his
servants hurt the people. W. said the Sepoys were all talking it over,
and were glad the men were punished.
Tamarhabad, Friday, Nov. 24.
We marched ten miles to-day. These moves are the most amusing part of
the journey; besides the odd native groups, our friends catch us up in
their _déshabille_--Mrs. A. carrying the baby in an open carriage; Mrs.
C. with hers fast asleep in a tonjaun; Miss H. on the top of an
elephant, pacifying the big boy of the A.s; Captain D. riding on in a
suit of dust-coloured canvas, with a coal-heaver's hat, going as hard as
he can, to see that the tent is ready for his wife; Mrs. B. carrying Mr.
B.'s pet cat in her palanquin carriage, with her ayah opposite guarding
the parroquet from the cat. Then Giles comes bounding by, in fact, run
away with, but apologises for passing us when we arrive, by saying he
was going on to take care that tea was ready for us. Then we overtake
Captain D.'s dogs, all walking with red great coats on--our dogs all
wear coats in the morning; then Chance's servant stalking along, with a
great stick in one hand, a shawl draped over his livery, and Chance's
nose peeping from under the shawl. F.'s pets travel in her cart. We each
have a cart, but I can never find anything to put in mine. There are
fakeers who always belong to a camp, and beat their drums just by the
first tent, and the instant this drum is heard everybody thinks of their
breakfast and hurries on; and the Sepoys and servants are so glad to get
to the end of the march, that they throw the fakeer a cowrie, or some
infinitely small coin, by which he lives.
Mr. A. came over yesterday evening. They brought Mr. G. as far as
Chroppra, his station, and he is to follow us to Allahabad, when the
wedding will take place.
Goofrein, Sunday, Nov. 26.
We came another ten miles yesterday, and always halt on Sunday. All
these places are so exactly like each other--a mere sandy plain with a
tank and a little mosque near at hand--that I never can make out why
they have any names; there is nothing to give a name to. The Rajah of
Benares marches with us till we come to his frontier, and he always
encamps within half a mile of us. He expressed a wish yesterday to see
our horses, so Captain M., who takes charge of the stables, went himself
this morning with all the whole concern. There are sixty horses
altogether in our stables--as the aides-de-camp keep theirs with ours,
and the syces are all dressed alike--so it made a very good show; and
there were 140 elephants. Captain M. and the rajah sat on two ivory
chairs, in front of the rajah's tent, and the horses and carriages and
elephants were all led round, and he asked the name of every animal, and
which each of us rode, and any that he admired he had brought round a
second time. It is one of the few civilities that amuse a native, so we
were glad it answered so well. Soon after the horses returned, the nazir
and three or four of the native servants came into my tent in great
perturbation: the rajah had sent the nazir a pair of shawls, one shawl
to the elephant jemadar, and another to G.'s mahout, and 300 rupees in
little bags for the syces and elephant coolies. And after the fuss that
was made a few days ago, about the servants taking no presents, the
nazir clearly thought he was in danger of losing his place for having
one offered to him. 'My shawls are a present, therefore, I fear,' he
said in his most timid tone. I sent for Mr. B., who said there was no
doubt that, as it was a private civility from the Governor-General to
the rajah, sending his own horses, &c. &c., that the servants might keep
their presents. I never saw people so happy as they were. Mr. Y. read
and preached so well to-day: it was the first Sunday in tents, and the
largest one was very well arranged, like a chapel. We had a larger
congregation than I expected, nearly sixty; amongst them some old
European soldiers, who looked very respectable. It was odd and rather
awful to think that sixty Christians should be worshipping God in this
desert, which is not their home, and that 12,000 false worshippers
should be standing round under the orders of these few Christians on
every point, except the only one that is of any importance; the
idolaters, too, being in their own land, and with millions within reach,
who all despise and detest our faith.
Tuesday, Nov. 28.
Yesterday we made an expedition to Mirzapore, the great carpet
manufactory. We left the camp at a quarter before six, by torchlight,
and went nine miles across the country to Mirzapore, leaving the camp to
pursue its own straight road. We found the usual assortment of
magistrates, judges, collectors, &c. &c., with boats, carriages, and
tonjauns: crossed the river; landed G., who went off to see the jail
and manufactories. We stuck to the boat to draw a most beautiful ghaut,
a mass of temples and carving. When that was done, we went to see the
house of a rich native, every inch of which is painted in arabesques,
all done by native artists, and very curious. Then we saw the town, and
then went to the house of Mr. K., the magistrate, where there was all
the society of the place--thirty gentlemen and one lady--and we got some
breakfast at ten, when we were on the point of perishing. The excellent
Mr. K., like an upright judge as he is, had made out a dressing-room
with two sofas and books, and every comfort, for F. and me. Major L. was
at luncheon: he is the man who has taken most of the Thugs, and he told
me such horrid stories of them. The temple at which they dedicate
themselves to the goddess of destruction is in this town. The Thugs
offer human sacrifices there whenever they can procure them. We left
Mirzapore at four, and overtook our camp at six. It looked pretty by
torchlight. We moved on another ten miles this morning, but, where we
are, I cannot precisely tell you. I think it sounds like Gugga Gange; at
all events, that is as good as the real word.