Native sobriety and European drunkenness--Hindoo Mahoram feast
Ceremony--Native habits--Shooting Sandgeese, Ducks, Parrots,
Monkeys--Report of death of Shah-Soojah--Akbar Khan assumes
the government--General Elphinstone retires--Mr. McNaughton
killed--Massacre in Guddulock Pass by Akbar Khan--44th foot cut
to pieces--A few escape to Jellelabad--Colonel Denny--Major
Havelock--Colonel Sale attacks Akbar--Denny killed--Havelock in
command--General Pollock pushes on from Bengal--Doctor Brydon--His
miraculous escape through the Pass--General Nott ordered to
Ghuznee--Pollock reinforces Sale--Lord Auckland succeeded by Lord
Ellenborough--The Gates of the Temple of Somnuth--The Maharajah
of Lahore pays his respects to Lord Ellenborough--Durbar at
Delhi--Review before the King and Indian Princes--Meerut again--My
comrade Jaco--The Spaniel and Jaco.
I have often been ashamed in India, when called a Christian, to see
an officer or a man under the influence of liquor. Both Mahomedans
and Hindoos are very abstemious--never touching anything that
intoxicates. I had now more proof of this than at any other time,
there being so many attendants allowed soldiers, indeed as many
followers as men, I could well judge their aversion to drink. Of all
the native cooks, belt-wallas, scyses for horses, and grass-cutters,
I never knew one to drink ask them, they grimace and turn away.
During the time we were recruiting our strength the Hindoos had a
festival called the Mahoram. They assemble by thousands from all
parts, with richly dressed elephants and camels, and gorgeously
dressed Princes and Nabobs. The common folk go through a sort of
sham-fight with bladders. A large image made of wicker work and
filled with combustibles is elevated some seventy feet high. Two
beautiful children are drawn in a car richly dressed by two sacred
bulls. These children fire two arrows each at the image, and are
then taken to the Temple, and, as I was informed, sacrificed in the
evening amid a great display of fire-works.
[Sidenote: Shooting sand-geese, ducks, etc.]
All the natives sleep during the great heat of the day, and are up
all night around the fires made of horse and cow manure, which keep
off mosquitoes. They make a horrid din, beating a drum called tum,
tum, and singing, so that with the noise all through the bazaars,
the drumming and the mosquito chorus, a foreigner has little rest.
Our men enjoyed plenty of shooting, sand-geese, ducks, parrots, and
peacocks; although dangerous to shoot the latter, the Hindoos holding
them as sacred. We had almost everything to beguile our time; drill
and field-days at early morning, besides a good library, ball-alley,
racket, quoits, cricket, and a theatre, named the Victoria.
Returning to quarters one evening, after a shooting excursion, and
the day having been intensely hot, many were enjoying a cool nap on
the cot outside the door of the camp. Apart from all the rest, by
himself, was an old crusty sergeant, nicknamed "Old Nick,"--a bath,
there being plenty about for the use of the men, stood near him, and
after a moment's consultation, as he snored away, we decided to play
him a trick. Our party being all of the same rank, (four sergeants)
even if we were discovered, it would not be deemed so bad as if it
were done by inferiors, but this we thought nothing of. Lifting him
very carefully, and so gently as not to disturb his heavy snoring,
we conveyed our friend "Old Nick" to the bath, laid him evenly and
gently as possible, looking round seeing each our way clear for
a good run--let go, and soused he fell into the water. Splutter,
splutter, occasionally as we ran, a fierce yell and a curse. We were
in bed in five minutes, in fact before he had time to properly shake
himself, and although enquiry and enquiry was made, and a reward for
the miscreants offered by himself, no one ever learned who did it for
years after.
We were not to remain long at peace, war broke out again on the
death of Shah-Soojah. Akbar Khan had seized the reins of government
of Afghanistan, shot Mr. McNaughton, the agent, had prevailed on
General Elphinstone to retire, who was weak enough to do so, instead
of holding his position until aid arrived; and as soon as Akbar got
him into the Guddulock Pass, commenced an indiscriminate massacre.
The 44th Regiment was almost cut to pieces; some were taken prisoners
with the officers' wives, including Lady Sale; some few escaped to
Jellelabad, at the entrance of the Kyber Pass, where General Sale,
Colonel Denny, and Major Havelock were with the 13th Light Infantry.
When the winter was far enough advanced to march, Akbar wanted to
attack Sale, but he, not wishing to be caught, marched out and met
him in battle, and fully routed him and his army. Poor Colonel Denny
being killed, Havelock then assumed the command.
[Sidenote: Doctor Brydon--his miraculous escape.]
In the early spring General Pollock was pushed on with a force from
Bengal.
Before I proceed farther I will here give the following incident
which occurred at the time of the massacre in the Guddulock Pass, in
1842:--
When the slaughter was nearly complete, a Doctor Brydon endeavoured
to escape; among the survivors was a native assistant, who, seeing
Brydon sorely pressed, called to him, saying, "Doctor Saib, I cannot
possibly escape, I am dying of cold and hunger, take my pony and do
the best you can for yourself." Brydon tried to encourage him, but
no, he was dying. Brydon mounted, and through the confusion, forced
his way to the front. Reaching all safe, he found a group of mounted
officers, who knowing they were just at the end of the Pass where
it opens on the plain where Jellelabad stands, determined to make a
bold push for life. Seeing Brydon on a wretched pony, they declared
they could not wait for him, mounted as he was, and any delay would
be sure to cause their immediate destruction. On they went, leaving
Brydon slowly toiling after them. The Afghans saw the group advancing
at full swing, met them and slew them every man, and thinking no one
else was coming, went back to the hills; just then Brydon jogged past
unobserved. News of Elphinstone's force was anxiously waited for at
Jellelabad. Towards evening one man slowly riding a worn-out pony
was descried at the entrance of the Pass,--cavalry were immediately
sent to bring him in--it was Brydon. As he entered the gate he fell
senseless from fatigue. When restoratives were applied, at least such
as were at hand, he revived, and the first question he asked was
about his pony, the pony that had saved his life--it was dead. Brydon
was with General Sale during the gallant defence of Jellelabad, and
lived to take part in the defence of Lucknow.
[Sidenote: Gates of the temple of Somnuth.]
Pollack pushed through the Kyber Pass to the relief of Sale. Another
force under General Nott marched from Bombay towards Ghuznee, to the
relief of our troops hemmed in there--the two divisions were to meet
at Cabul as an avenging army. Both pushed on as rapidly as possible,
and after long and arduous marches, reached Cabul, rescued the
prisoners, and burnt the capital to the ground. General Elphinstone
having died, completely broken down through this sad disaster, Lord
Auckland was called home, and Lord Ellenborough replaced him as
Governor-General of India.
In January, 1843, an army of observation was formed on the banks
of the Sutledge, to meet Generals Nott and Pollock on their return
through the Kyber Pass, bringing with them the gates of the temple of
Somnuth, from in front the Mahomedan mosque, at Ghuznee,--carried off
eight hundred years before, on the conquest of India and subjugation
of the Hindoos--and now restored after that lapse of time by British
valour, and thereby conciliating the original possessors of Hindostan.
These gates were made of sandal-wood, each one drawn on a waggon by
twelve bullocks; they were also covered with crimson curtains fringed
with gold.
The Maharajah of Lahore came down with six thousand cavalry as an
escort to pay his respects to Lord Ellenborough. We marched towards
Delhi on the first of February, through the protected Sikh states.
Arriving at Delhi we encamped on the race course. Lord Ellenborough
had summoned all the Rajahs and petty princes to meet him and the
king at a Durbar; along with the King of Delhi was the Rajah of
Burtpoor, the Rajah of Jypoor, the Rajah of Puttealea. All the
Indian nobility gave a grand dinner to the Governor-General, Lord
Gough, and all the British officers. A large place was built of
wicker-work, covered with flags, banners, streamers, and variegated
lamps; and tables were laid for five hundred guests; the service was
of silver and gold. The Governor-General and staff went down in three
carriages, escorted by two troops 16th Lancers--my troop happened to
be one of them--when the cavalcade arrived, a royal salute was fired,
and salvo after salvo almost shook the air; the crowd was so dense we
could almost ride over turbaned heads. After dinner there was a grand
presentation to Lord Ellenborough,--a gold salver full of jewels,
two elephants, richly caparisoned, and four Arab horses--then came
such a display of fireworks as never has been equalled since. It was
twelve p.m. before we started for camp.
[Sidenote: Meerut again.]
The day following all this display a grand field-day was held, in
order to show these native princes the power of Britain, and what
good soldiers she boasted of. In all the movements, the troops
sustained their traditional name; the 16th made a dashing charge,
covering the infantry, who had fallen into square; we astonished the
king and the several princes by the quickness of our movements, they
calling us the Lall Goral Wallas, or Bullam Wallas. We broke up in
a few days afterwards, each regiment marching to their respective
stations, the 16th back to Meerut, where we arrived on the 4th of
March.
[Sidenote: My comrade Jaco.]
I might have introduced to the reader before this an inseparable
companion I had while in cantonments, and one who not only shared
my bed and board, but one who, during many hours of serious thought
and fretfulness about all at home, mother and sisters, made me laugh
and forget what I had been thinking about a few moments before;
this creature was Jaco, my monkey; where he was born, or where
he originally sprung from, or his race, I cannot tell. I am no
Darwinian, but positively, the amount of tact and knowledge displayed
by Jaco, often since has led me to consider our possible relationship
well. I purchased Jaco for a small sum from a native, intending, if
he remained with me, to train him well and keep him as a companion;
I took him to my quarters, and as a first lesson to teach him
subjection and obedience, tied him to the handle of my trunk; here,
I kept him sufficiently long, that, by kind treatment, I thought I
had weaned him from any bad tricks he had learned; he, of course,
got quite used to a sword, a carbine, and of my dress; I made him a
nice-fitting scarlet jacket, blue pants, and a cap with gold lace,
and, dear me, how I laughed to see my tiny mock soldier strutting
about; this pleased him well. My comrade had a spaniel dog. Jaco and
the spaniel got quite friendly. This creature was also very biddable,
and on both, my comrade and I commenced a series of drill, providing
Jaco with a wooden sword. In a short time they got so advanced, that
on the word "mount," Jaco would stride the spaniel, and away out with
either of us to parade for guard mounting; this they continued to
do, till mounting guard became an every-day's duty, creating a great
amount of laughter, and they were never absent. If I happened to be
tired, and lying down getting a little rest, Jaco would jump on the
table, make faces at himself in the glass, then, to annoy me, or get
me up, as he knew he was disturbing me, get pen and ink, as he had
seen me do, and destroy any paper that lay about with his scrawling;
if I took no notice, and he found it was no use teasing me that way,
he usually licked the pen, spitting out several times, made ugly
faces, all the time looking at me, I pretending to sleep. I don't
know that he had one bad habit, but thieving, and this he was expert
at; if I had received a paper, or was sending one home, and left it
on the table, nothing pleased poor Jaco better than to make away with
it. His usual plan was to leap on my table, watch me well for a time,
to make sure I was asleep, he gently came on the bed, above my head,
put his finger softly to my eyes and try to open them; this was done,
I suppose, to see if I would stir, then with a bound away on the
table, seize the package, and away to the woods, where he generally
remained till night, when he quietly came back, getting into bed at
my feet.
Jaco was a great pet all over the cantonment. I intended, if I had
been fortunate enough in keeping him, to bring him home: he, however,
often got me into blame for his thieving tricks, and one day returned
to my tent with a broken arm; how he got it I could never make out;
I applied splints, and he seemed to recover the use of it, but I
fancied the pain drove him mad, for he went to the woods one day, and
never came back.
[Illustration: (Vignette)]
[Illustration: (Vignette)]