Simla, Tuesday, Oct. 15, 1839.
It is rather soon to begin again, but habit is everything, and there is
a little more to say while the Sikhs are here. Our ball for them last
night went off very well. I had the verandahs all closed in with
branches of trees, and carpets put down and lamps put up, and the house
looked a great deal larger. The chiefs were in splendid gold dresses,
and certainly very gentleman-like men. They sat bolt upright on their
chairs with their feet dangling, and I dare say suffered agonies from
cramp. C. said we saw them amazingly divided between the necessity of
listening to G. and their native feelings of not _seeming_ surprised,
and their curiosity at men and women dancing together. I think that they
learned at least two figures of the quadrilles by heart, for I saw
Gholâb Singh, the commander of the Goorcherras, who has been with
Europeans before, expounding the dancing to the others.
The two chief sirdars were not even at Lahore when we were there. I
thought they might eventually be taught to flirt, and wanted Mr. A. to
try and make up a match between the old fakeer and old Miss J., who is
between sixty and seventy, and something like the fakeer. Mr. A. was
quite willing, but unluckily Miss J. did not come.
Thursday, Oct. 17.
The gentlemen got up some racing yesterday, to which the Sikhs came, and
we all went. Racing is one of the few amusements they can enter into,
and they were very much amused. G. gave a silver hookah to be run for,
and the aides-de-camp a silver cheroot box, &c. The Sikhs saw us drawing
a lottery for the races and enquired what it meant, and in their quick
way set one up. Lehna Singh sent word to twelve of his guards to start;
wrote all their names in Persian on bits of paper, and said with a
complacent smile, 'Lotteree.'
Their races were very funny. They started as fast as the horse could
go--no Sikh horse can gallop 100 yards--and then they trotted on, or
walked, or stopped; but towards the winning-post the first man always
came in waving his whip over his head, looking in a prodigious hurry,
with the others at least a quarter of a mile behind. They rode with
their heavy shields and helmets on, and one man in chain-armour, which
helped to break his horse's leg. However, G. gave him a new horse, and
gave the four winners a pair of shawls each, so they thought English
racing quite delightful.
Friday, Oct. 18.
The Sikhs had their farewell durbar to-day. They are in such a fright,
poor people! at going back to their disturbed country, that they begged
for even one of the Government House hirkarus as a protection. They say
they were sent by Kurruck Singh, whose power has now passed into the
hands of his son and his minister, and they don't know what may be done
to them when they go back.
Noor Mahal and Dhian Singh called before them the uncle of Cheyt Singh,
whose murder I mentioned to you in my last Journal, and after trying to
make him confess where some pearls and jewels were hidden, killed him
with their own hands, and threw his body out before the palace gate.
Another chief, _they_ say, killed himself in prison, but others say they
poisoned him. The Punjâb is fast returning to the barbarous state from
which Runjeet redeemed it.
The native writer describes it all so like some of the old Jewish
troubles. He says: 'The Maharajah refused comfort, and asked if he were
really king, or if the power had left him; and the Koonwur (Noor Mahal)
and the Rajah answered, that he was the Lord of the World, and that they
were his slaves. The Maharajah went out to take the air on his elephant,
and the Koonwur sat behind him and drove the flies from him with a
chowry, and the Rajah carried a chattah (an umbrella) over his
head'--and then they came back and imprisoned and beat more of his
servants.
We had some more ladies to see the durbar, and the secretaries have
become resigned to that innovation, and think it rather improves the
appearance of things.
Wednesday, Oct. 23.
P. returned from Cashmere to-day, much sooner than we expected him. He
walked into my room just as I was going to dress, and I should not have
known him the least if I had met him out of doors. He said he had
spoken to several people, who had not made him out at all. His hair is
quite long, hanging about his shoulders, and his beard half-way down to
his waist. It is a mark of respectability in the countries he has
travelled through, but it looks ruffianish here: however, it was rather
becoming. P. gives such an account of the shawls that are making for us
in Cashmere, and he has brought drawings of them that make one's
shawl-mouth water.
Hurripore, Wednesday, Oct. 30.
There! I have seen the last of poor, dear Simla, except a distant
glimpse from the Fir Tree Bungalow, where I shall sleep to-morrow.
This place is so very low, and hot accordingly. I had always settled to
make my journey to Barr last four days. More than three hours of a
jonpaun knocks me up, and the last three days I have unluckily been
ailing. I should not have set off yesterday afternoon, only that my bed
and sofa and every atom of clothes had gone on in the morning, and three
hours of any pain can be borne. So in spite of a desperate headache, I
started for Syree, with Dr. D., Giles, and Wright, meaning to get into
bed the moment I arrived. But I had the sad spectacle of my bed set down
about half-way, and the coolies smoking and cooking their dinner round
it. However, Rosina had made me up a bed on a native charpoy that did to
lie and excruciate my head upon, till the bed came up, and the doctor
made me up a composing draught; but such a night as I had! I had not
tasted anything for thirty-six hours, and about ten an insane desire
for a sandwich seized me; so, though I had heard the cooks with all
their chattels set off for this place two hours before, I called to the
hirkaru who was sleeping at the door, and told him to tell Giles I
wanted a sandwich. Hirkarus are good for carrying a note, or a parcel,
but are never trusted with a message. After making me repeat sandwich
six times, and evidently thinking it meant a friend from England, or
some new medicine, I heard him repeating as he walked off round the
bungalow, 'Lady Sahib sant vich muncta' (muncta meaning '_wants_,' and
the only word that we have all learnt, showing what _wanting_ creatures
we are). Giles made up a mixture of leg of chicken and dust, which was
satisfying under the circumstances, but still my head raved; and having
heard the jackals (which do not exist at Simla) tearing up a dog, I had
a vague idea that the sandwich was made of the remains of Chance, which
gave it an unpleasant flavour.
Then the Pariah dogs fought, and the A.s' coolies arrived with all their
things and insisted on bringing them into the bungalow.
Then the Paharrees, at least 500 of them, who were resting on the hill,
began calling to their friends, 500 more, who were cooking in the
valley. One man was calling for his friend Buddooah. 'Oh! Buddooah!
Buddoo!' to which somebody responded, 'Oh! Almooah!' and it was not
Almooah who had called; so then the caller began again at the top of his
voice: 'Oh! Buddooah!' and the answer was, 'Oh! Culloo!' but it was not
Culloo, by any manner of means; so then he called again, till he had
woke every Buddooah in camp, and I don't believe he ever found the
right one at last.
However, I arrived at the conclusion that Buddooah must be Hindustani
for 'Jack,' it seemed such a common name, and that is a great discovery;
and I also settled that, if I had had a stick and no headache, I would
have gone and taught that man to carry his own messages, and not stand
there screaming all night.
The conclusion of the night was, that a rat ran over my bed and across
my throat, and did not the least care for my trying to catch him. We
came on early this morning, and my head is beginning to improve.
Fir Tree Bungalow, Friday, Nov. 1.
F. and G. and P. arrived to breakfast to-day, and this afternoon we all
go down to our deplorable tents. There is a distant view of Simla from
this place, and very pretty it looks. Giles is taking a sentimental
farewell of it through a telescope, and lamenting over his lost garden:
'But one comfort, ma'am, is that I have brought away my favourite
gardener to look after your pheasants.' I am trying to carry down to
Calcutta some of the Himalayan pheasants, to be shipped off to your
Charlie the moment we arrive.
They are such beautiful creatures, the whole bird of bronzed blue, like
the breast of a peacock, except the tail and wings, which are of a
reddish brown, and they have a bright green tuft on their heads. I have
had some of them two months, and they have grown tame, but at first they
are very apt to die of fright. Yesterday, when I took up the last new
one to feed it, it fainted away and died soon after. However, I still
have five, and they have a snug little house, carried by two men, and a
little tent of netting, which is pitched in front of it when we halt, so
that they may run in and out without being touched. Every precaution is
taken, but still there will be many a slip between this pheasant cup and
Charlie's lip, I am afraid.