Camp, near the Sutlej, Sunday, Jan. 6, 1839.
I have allowed myself my accustomed four days' rest after sending off my
Journal, and it comes just at a good time. We have had only our common
marches to make from Lahore, and no break except that afforded by Shere
Singh and little Pertâb, who were again sent with us by the Maharajah,
to see us safe across the river, and who were by way of being very
sentimental at parting with us. I believe, however, our dear friend
Shere is as great a rogue as may well be--at least, like all courtiers
under a despotic king, he is full of intrigue and falseness, being
always on the watch to provide for his own safety. He is also very
extravagant, and has to go through a course of constant makeshifts to
keep himself afloat.
There are various ways of getting one's debts paid in various countries.
Shere Singh is out of favour with the Maharajah; but the other day
Runjeet put a pea on the point of a spear, and told all the sirdars to
shoot at it from a considerable distance. Shere Singh hit it at the
first shot, and Runjeet gave him six villages; and it is always by some
feat of that kind that they wring a gratuity from the old man. Shere
brought one evening a beautiful pair of shawls, such as are only made
for the females of the Singh family, and gave them to F. and me, begging
that we would really keep them and wear them, and nothing was to be
given in exchange for them. I am sure we had fairly earned them by
having him at dinner almost every day for a month; but, however, we
handsomely added them to the public stock, and as soon as a committee of
shawl merchants has sat on them, we are to buy them. The melancholy
catastrophe of the week has been the death of F.'s lemur, after two days
of illness. It caught cold, like the rest of the camp, in that swamp at
Lahore, and died of inflammation in the stomach, so violent that no
medicine was of the slightest use. Poor little wretch! it was hardly
possible to bear its screams at times; though as F. could not stand it,
I did my auntly duties to it to the last. It is really a great loss, it
was such a clever little animal, and she made such a constant
occupation of it, that she misses it much, and is in a very low state. I
own I miss it too, and then its illness has been so shocking. It had
such cramps, and held out its little black hands (which are shaped
exactly like ours) to be rubbed, and cried just like a child. That is
the worst of a nice pet. However, they are a great amusement for the
time they last, and there is, on an average, at least a year's pleasure
for a week's grief. A natural death, too, is an uncommon termination to
the life of a pet, and Dr. D. did everything that could be done for it.
Moothea, Jan. 9.
We left the Sutlej on Monday, and are halting to-day. Our dear friend
Mr. C., of Umballa, laid out such a long march for us yesterday, that
all the cattle are knocked up. We rode about twice the distance we
intended to have done, which was no joke. Luckily he had his doubts
about the villany of the proceeding, and had provided provisions for two
days, so that we were able to stop a day. This is a shocking country for
robberies. It belongs to nobody in particular, and the inhabitants
avowedly live by plunder. Last night they took two pittarrahs belonging
to one of the clerks, and beat the sepoy who was guarding them
dreadfully. They also robbed and beat a camel suwar who was bringing us
letters from Ferozepore.
Thursday, Jan. 10.
We had another very long march, and found on arriving at the advanced
camp that there had been another robbery. Some of Mr. ----'s boxes were
taken, and some belonging to an officer, whose kitmutgar was cut by a
sabre across the chest. The poor sepoy is dead, who was so beaten. The
servants are in a shocking state of fright, though it is a little their
own fault if they are robbed. At two in the afternoon, one set of them
go on with all the stores, wine, grain, &c., and a strong guard; and we
have settled to send our precious imperials, camel trunks, &c., by
day-light. At nine in the evening, all the plate, dinner things,
furniture, a great many tents, and the servants that will be wanted in
the morning, go with an escort. If they stray away they are instantly
robbed. All the rest come in the morning with us, when there are four
regiments on the road, so that is quite safe. To-night Colonel ---- is
going to send the fourth cavalry to patrol the road. These little
warlike precautions are becoming interesting.
Moothee, Friday, Jan. 11.
Worse and worse. When we came up to the advanced camp, the servants
declared there had been an _engagement_. I think we are doing more
business than ever the army will do in Cabul. Our great battle of
Mootheesund was fought in the night, which makes it curious as a matter
of history. Four sepoys were guarding a train of pittarrahs. The
inhabitants of the village (as was perhaps to be expected) wished to
appropriate their contents. A hundred men attacked the four sepoys; the
sepoys naturally screamed; the cavalry came up; the hundred men ran
away; cavalry, sepoys, and pittarrah bearers all joined in the pursuit;
the thieves ran home, and, I suppose, went to bed; and our forces
brought off the jemadar of the village, who says he had nothing to do
with it, and he wishes they would let him go again.
Budhoo, Saturday, Jan. 12.
We had a nice short march this morning, just ten miles. I am quite able
to ride again now, which lessens the fatigue materially; and I believe
it is now universally allowed that my horse is entirely faultless. Of
course it cannot be so in fact, but it has every appearance of it at
present. It is beautiful, and it does not kick nor bite, which all the
others do, nor stumble as most Arabs do, nor pull, nor dawdle. I am so
obliged to it. I hate a vicious horse, don't you? and you cannot guess
how troublesome they are in this country.
Tuesday, Jan. 15.
This morning we went half-way in the carriage and then got on elephants,
to meet the Rajah of Putteealah, whose territories we enter to-day. His
son came last night to meet G. He is a fine-looking boy, about eighteen.
Mr. E. says that the usual custom among the Sikhs is, that once grown
up, a boy ceases to be a son, or a brother--that he becomes an
_individual_, bound only to take care of himself; but the Putteealah
rajah has broken through this system, and has kept his son in his own
palace, under his own control. Last night was the first time he had ever
slept from under his father's roof. He had a grey-bearded tutor, who
never left his side, and an immense suite. Mr. E. says father and son
are on excellent terms. The rajah's procession was beautiful; not so
large as some of Runjeet's, but more regularly handsome, as all his
followers were equally well dressed, and their riding was very
striking. Runjeet's men cannot ride at all. Some of the men we saw this
morning put their horses into a gallop and then stood up on their
saddles, stooping down to the right and left to cut away the weeds with
their swords, very much what people do at Astley's, only there the
horses go round in a circle, which makes it more easy. Here, there is
not even a made road. Another man would ride up and fire off his
matchlock at a friend and then throw himself on the side of his horse,
hanging only by one stirrup, till his pursuer had returned the fire, and
then he would rise up again and stop his horse with the greatest ease.
Two little dwarfs rode before the rajah. We had them here this afternoon
to draw, and gave them two shawls, which pleased him much. He knows the
rules about presents in the Company's service, and when he and Mr. E.
were coming to the durbar in the evening, he saw these dwarfs strutting
along with their shawls on. He asked where they got them from; they said
the Lady Sahib gave them: upon which the rajah turned round to his Sikh
and asked, 'May they keep them?' and then laughed with Mr. E. at his
knowing exactly what the English would say. This evening the Bombay
extra arrived with news to the 27th of October; all good news.
Wednesday, Jan. 16.
Besides the overland letters, this has been a great day of _idle_
business for G. and his staff. F. and I left the camp at the usual time,
and a bitter nasty day it was; a regular thick Indian fog. We rode most
part of the way with Captain X. and ---- 'Frump,' Esq., as we always
call him, not but what he is rather a pleasant man, but he _frumps_
things in general, and wears a rough coat and stern-looking gloves, and
never can see the fun of anything, and his name begins with an F., so I
think it very likely he was christened 'Frump.' He was remarkably
frumpish with the fog, which almost blinded us till the sun rose. The
unhappy G. remained with his staff to breakfast at seven, and then set
off in full-dress to return Putteealah's visit. He gave them magnificent
presents; amongst others, a horse with a gold howdah, and caparisoned
like an elephant, and it sticks out its leg for the rider to mount by
just as an elephant does. The little howdah would make Chance's
establishment quite complete, but the idea of presenting it to him has
not yet crossed C.'s mind apparently. From that durbar they came on to
the camp, and were met by the old Rajah of Nabun, a Sikh chief, and a
fine-looking old creature, and he brought G. home. Then they dressed,
and at two had to _full-dress_ again for a durbar to this old creature,
and he asked G. to bring us in the evening to see his garden, so the
gentlemen had to put on their uniforms a third time. Towards dusk, young
Nabun (Nabun junior) came to fetch us, and we all scuttled along on
elephants to a very ugly dilapidated garden, lit up in an elaborate
manner, where the old man met us, but could hardly walk from age. A. and
Mr. C. kept charging G. on no account to sit down, as the rajah was not
of sufficient rank to receive a visit from the Governor-General, and G.
kept declaring that he knew he should sit down at last, so he might as
well do it at once. However, they would not hear of it, but kept
walking him about; and the old man went up into a garden house to rest,
while the son did the honours. Then G. would go up to this house, and
then up the steps, A. and C. objurgating him all the while; then the
cunning old Nabun asked him to look at the paintings in the room. A. and
C. grew desperate, and said the pictures were very improper. G. declared
they were very pretty; and so we all went in and found a whole row of
chairs, and a select assortment of nautch girls. G. sank down on one
side of the rajah and told me to sit on the other, and so ended the
advice of A. and C., and Nabun now thinks himself as good as Putteealah.
That is the great result of this great measure, and C.'s hurt feelings
were soothed by a pair of diamond bracelets that the old man gave me,
and which I delivered to him. A large display of fireworks took place,
and we came home in the dark.
Thursday, Jan. 17.
A rainy miserable sort of day, but not bad enough to prevent the tents
from moving. We had several of the camp to dinner. St. Cloup is longing
for our arrival at Kurnaul, that he may vary his cookery a little. We
cannot kill a cow in the face of all these Sikhs, and at Simla the
natives do not like it; so it is a long time since we have had the
luxury of a beef-steak or a veal cutlet.