CHAPTER III.

ARRIVAL IN CALCUTTA--DEPARTURE FOR THE SOUTH-WESTERN FRONTIER--ARRIVAL

AT MERUT--STATE OF AFFAIRS ON THE NORTH-WESTERN FRONTIER--THE SIKH

MILITARY ESTABLISHMENT--THE BRITISH POSITION.

After two years' absence, early in October, 1845, I disembarked from

one of those monster steamers at Calcutta, by whose assistance the

months occupied in our former intercourse with India are reduced to

weeks, and the probability of arrival, not only to a day, but almost

to an hour. Not ten years ago I remember hearing an eminent lecturer

in London prove to the complete satisfaction (apparently) of a crowded

amphitheatre, that steam communication with India, via the Red Sea and

Arabian Gulf, _was impossible_. We were told that the monsoons, the

shoals in the Red Sea, and the tornadoes which rush from the gullies

across its fatal waters, were too much even for the iron heart of

a steamer to encounter; and should any fortunate passengers escape

these evils, the sands of the desert between Suez and Alexandria were

prepared to overwhelm the caravan of presuming adventurers.

The practical comment of 1846 and some preceding years, has reduced

these imaginary terrors to their proper value; and a railroad across

the Isthmus, if the Pasha have the wisdom to benefit his country and

many others, by adopting the suggestions of British engineers, will

bring India three days nearer to Europe. Steam has so far substituted

time for distance, that I am sure I shall be excused for adopting the

modern change of terms. Miles and other barbarous terms may continue

to be used for many years to come in uncivilized climes, but who would

think of talking of the number of miles between London and Bristol,

when the Great Western authorities announce it to be, by express,

precisely two hours and forty-five minutes.

When will this happy system of railroads be applicable to India? or,

rather, when will it be applied? for a more favourable surface for

operations could hardly be selected in the world, and the advantages

to Government are incalculable. A British force, after defeating the

Burmese on the banks of the Burhampooter, might be steamed up to

the Sutlej in time to repulse the malignant Sikhs before supper the

following evening, and then proceed on their tour of conquest as long

as the steam could be kept up or an enemy found.

These may be termed little more than idle visions to the patient

sufferer who is about to undergo a transportation to the upper

provinces of Bengal, at the mournful average of three miles an hour, if

the weather be favourable--considerably less if a heavy fall of rain

should occur; and in October, 1845, the rain did come down in real

earnest, as I left Calcutta.

I shall not pause to acquaint the reader with the latitude and

longitude of Calcutta, neither will I expatiate on the beauties of

Government House, or the relative numbers and merits of the Hindoo and

Mussulman inhabitants. As the gazetteer can give that and much more

valuable information on the same head, I will not rashly enter into

competition with one possessed of so much general information, but

refer the curious to its pages, whilst I invite the less particular to

accompany me in a journey to the south-western frontier, and I will do

my best to entertain my companions.

Hearing that there was no necessity for being in the upper provinces

just now, inasmuch as the governor-general, and all India, except the

_Delhi Gazette_, seemed bent to maintain the most profound peace ever

known in Hindostan, I gladly seized the opportunity of paying a visit

to a valued friend dwelling amongst the jungles of the south-western

frontier.

In company with a brother officer, who was travelling the same road, I

embarked in a palanquin amidst the torrents of rain which descended in

streams, threatening to convert our sturdy little bearers into strong

resemblances of water-rats.

We managed, fortunately, to ford the Damooda river before the storm

had attained its maximum, or the journey might have been seriously

interrupted, for during very heavy storms this river is subject to

violent inundations, when a rolling column of water, several feet in

height, and resembling the bore[7] on the Ganges, rushes down the

river's course, flooding the neighbouring country, and causing many

calamities. On the right bank of the Damooda was a shed, which afforded

a partial shelter to our exhausted palanquin bearers, and here we

rested in hopes of the tempest abating.

About midnight, a lull took place, and we proceeded, the bearers

staggering with difficulty through the swamp, which the surrounding

country had now become. Travelling that night, and the following day,

with the tempest bursting in fitful gusts, we reached the dwelling of

an indigo planter, in the lonely jungles, late in the evening, where we

were hospitably received, and rested a few hours.

At midnight we proceeded _en route_, and arrived, as the day broke, on

the bank of a swollen torrent. The primitive mode of crossing, which

we were compelled to adopt, was by means of a raft, made of bamboos,

bound together, crosswise, over a dozen large earthenware jars.[8]

Trusting to the declared experience of our bearers, we embarked on this

singular conveyance, the natives swimming alongside, and safely landing

everything on the opposite shore in two or three expeditions. Whilst

our bearers were engaged in this manner, I observed, a few yards above

the raft, something resembling a rope being dragged across the torrent,

and running down to the edge to ascertain what it was, an enormous

serpent landed beside me, and departed, without any delay, into the

woods. Although the stream was running with great rapidity, he had made

nearly a direct course across the torrent.

We proceeded onwards, during the whole day, through a heavy jungle,

scarcely meeting with any human abode--except the small sheds where our

relay of bearers awaited us, at the end of each stage of ten or twelve

miles--whilst the storm of rain continued with unabated vigour. At

nightfall we reached another torrent, or nullah, as they are called in

India, where our progress seemed altogether arrested, for it proved to

be more than ten feet deep, was running like a sluice, and no raft of

any kind was procurable; nor did our attendants seem disposed to make

any attempts; they remarked that an indigo shed was close at hand, and

that we should be all drowned if we attempted to cross. Then patiently

seating themselves, they looked steadily in our faces to await the

decision. The choice was not a matter of difficulty; we preferred the

indigo shed to being drowned, hoping that by daybreak the waters might

in some degree subside.

The ancients indulged their mirth at the simplicity of the

"Rusticus expectans dum defluat amnis."

Yet the inhabitants of India have been pretty often constrained to

adopt the practice.

The indigo shed, after some demur on the part of the native in charge,

was opened for the reception of our palanquins and travelling cases,

which had long since been thoroughly soaked. We soon found that we

were not destined to be the sole tenants of the shed, for the swarms

of mosquitoes exceeded any display of the kind I had seen before. We

obtained a jar of charcoal to boil the kettle for our frugal meal of

tea and biscuits, which soon produced a suffocating sensation. We left,

in hopes of being rid of our tormentors by this expedient; but they had

not apparently the same objections as ourselves, and were buzzing with

renewed delight and welcome on seeing us return. In vain we closed the

doors of our palanquins, and nearly stifled ourselves with heat; our

active enemies forced a passage through the crevices of the blinds;

they would not be baulked of their rightful food, and it was evident

that a white victim was no ordinary delicacy.

We anxiously watched for the break of day, and when the dawn was

perceptible, arose from our restless mats, stirred up the sleeping

establishment, and proceeded to the banks of the nullah. The weather

had moderated a little, and, about mid-day, the water had sunk to

about five feet, which gave rather a precarious ford. As the deep part

was not very wide, though exceedingly rapid, our bearers consented

to make the passage with the empty palanquins on their heads, and

afterwards to carry each article separately, whilst we stripped and

took the water in support of the sable army. This mode was practised,

and successfully performed, though the passage of the palanquins was

rather precarious: to have lost them in these wild jungles would have

been an irreparable disaster.

From hence, our journey through the jungles and hilly country, which

we afterwards entered, was slow, but unobstructed. In many parts, the

country was eminently beautiful; especially so in the neighbourhood of

Ranchee, where dwelt the excellent and hospitable friend, to visit whom

had been the object of my journey.

The Kholes, who inhabit this tract of country, lay claim to be

aborigines of Hindostan; nay, more: they designate themselves as the

first people created, "except the English," added a polite barbarian,

who was recapitulating the claims to antiquity, with this unfortunate

exception, which tended to overthrow the whole fabric.

Early one morning, as we were sitting in the verandah of my friend's

house, two inhabitants of a neighbouring village made their appearance,

and began a most dolorous tale regarding the devastations committed

among their kindred by a cruel ghost, to eject which they solicited the

sahib's aid.

"It is well," replied the controller of spirits; "go, the ghost shall

be caught."

With a submissive reverence due to such power, the two gentlemen in

black took their departure, evidently satisfied with the success of

their mission.

The ghost complained of was the cholera, which pays frequent visits to

this country, but rarely resides more than a few days in a village,

when he takes wing in search of fresh victims.

A chuprassie, or messenger, dressed in the belt and insignia of office,

is sent to the village, and ordered to await until the scourge abates;

and as imagination, beyond a doubt, has much influence in this disease,

the arrival of the chuprassie, sent officially to catch the ghost, has

no doubt a salutary effect on the superstition of the sufferers; and

probably, on leaving, there is not a soul in the place foolhardy enough

to doubt that the ghost has taken his departure under the chuprassie's

belt.

In this part of India, a few years back almost unknown, and affording

a safe asylum for the predatory tribes of Pindarrees until the wise

policy of Lord Hastings' government uprooted those daring tribes of

banditti, the most profound tranquillity now prevails. The natives have

learned, not only to respect, but to love, the mild authority which

has restored the golden era, enabling all to repose in security, and

to lead the life of inoffensive simplicity for which the Hindoo is

eminently qualified, but which the oppressive rule of the Mussulman

conquerors long forbade him to enjoy.

The climate in this hilly district is temperate, presenting a

favourable contrast to the execrable damp heat of Calcutta, at the

close of the rainy season. The numerous conical hills, hinged with

thick jungle, afford an agreeable change of view to one accustomed

to the monotonous flat surface of the Bengal provinces from the

Rajemal to the Himalayah mountains; and these belts of jungle merit

the sportsman's attention, owing to the colonies of tigers, bears, and

leopards which seek their shelter. In the thick forests and prairies,

further to the west, is found a large beast of the bison kind,[9] whose

courage and ferocity recommend him to the most adventurous of Eastern

sportsmen; indeed, few would enjoy the daring toil and sport long,

unless provided with a heart and eye correctly placed.

My visit to these alluring regions, and to the residence of my kind and

valued friends, will always continue the most pleasing recollection

afforded by my sojourn in India; but that happy time was curtailed by

letters which reached me from Upper India. The aspect of affairs on

the north-west frontier, upwards of a thousand miles distant from

my present abode, was so warlike, that I felt it my duty to lose no

time in prosecuting that long and tedious journey, as my regiment were

cantoned in a neighbourhood which rendered the requisition for their

service a certainty, in case of hostilities ensuing.

Sending on our palanquins and bearers in the morning, we followed, in

the afternoon, on elephants, through the heavy jungles and deep, gloomy

ravines; and, travelling at a rate of about five miles an hour, reached

Hazarebaugh in the course of the next day.

Some of the Ameers of Scinde,[10] who had been recently deposed, were

then residing at this deserted cantonment under surveillance, and we

paid them a visit in the evening, accompanied by the officer in charge.

They were living in spacious bungalows, under little restraint, and

with many of their own people around them. Were it not that those

who have once been possessed of power seem to languish under its

loss--should the privation have been involuntary--I should have said

that the Ameers had more reason to be contented with their present lot

than when placed at the head of a lawless and warlike race, whom they

were unable to control, and of whom they stood in constant dread.

But the recommendation of sages, and the advice of poets, "privatus ut

altùm dormiret," have been alike disregarded; and although, from the

reign of Commodus to the accession of Constantine, every Roman emperor,

save Claudius, was assassinated, yet was there no dearth of candidates

for the fatal purple.

On informing the Ameers that we had recently arrived from England, they

eagerly questioned me as to the probability of their reinstatement.

They smiled incredulously, when I told them I was in no way connected

with the India house, and unable to afford them any information. We

then conversed upon Scinde, which I told them I had visited on a former

occasion, when with Sir John Keane's force, and they politely declared

that they remembered me well, an Asiatic _façon de parler_, for during

my Scindian tour, I had not seen one of the Ameers of the present party.

After an exchange of trifling presents, we took our leave of the

Ameers, and the same night left Hazarebaugh in our palanquins. After a

hot and tedious journey along the main trunk-road, resting for two or

three hours during the heat of each day at the government bungalows,

erected for that purpose, we reached Cawnpore. At this place, we found

that a great improvement[11] had taken place in the mode of travelling,

by placing the palanquin on a truck drawn by a horse, which is relieved

every ninth or tenth mile, and the traveller is thus enabled to proceed

at the rate of eight miles an hour in lieu of three.

I accomplished the journey to Merut in about thirty hours, having had

only one upset, and a few trifling bruises; for the horses seemed to

have come to an understanding with each other that they were to take

any direction, at first starting, but that of the main road. At almost

every stage, this system of bolting was attempted; but when once

impelled to a canter, they seemed generally to acknowledge the error of

their former ways, and to atone for it by making the best and steadiest

progress in their power. Though occasionally some headstrong novice

would try the effect of a few rapid swerves, he generally got the worst

of it in the end, receiving pretty smart chastisement from the native

driver, accompanied by torrents of abuse bestowed on the delinquent and

his whole generation, frequently intermingled with most opprobrious,

and doubtless unmerited, epithets on his mother and sisters. This

is, I am sorry to say, but too common a practice amongst the natives

throughout India; whenever man or beast offends them, they are in the

habit of retaliating immediately on his inoffensive female relatives.

Thus, lovely woman is ever wont to become the meek and unsuspecting

victim of him who should have been her protector; from Queen Pomare

to Mrs. Caudle, in modern times, from Medea to Xantippe, in ancient,

they are always right, and almost invariably suffer wrong. The main

cause of this injustice may be attributed to their having neglected to

maintain their undoubted right to a voice and seat in the legislature;

and though, from amiable weakness, or more laudable modesty, they have

hitherto refrained from urging their claims, it is base oppression to

take advantage of such honourable causes of reluctance. If a type of

power be wanting, it may be adduced at once; for did not the greatest

political despot of these, or any other times, refuse to accept office

until her Majesty would assent to change her female friends? A general

revolt, especially if the fair rebels only held out long enough, would

be certain of ultimate success. I speak only with regard to civilized

countries; for in the East, there are reasons which might interfere

most materially with the success of such a proceeding.

On my arrival at Merut, I found all parties deeply interested in the

news daily arriving from the frontier; the question of peace or war

decidedly held the next place in importance in the estimation of the

European community after that of the impending race meeting.

As the Merut races may not afford matter of so much general interest

elsewhere as they did in the north-western provinces of Bengal, I will

enter first on the question of secondary importance.

Notwithstanding the hostile attitude assumed by the Sikh army, Sir

Henry Hardinge continued to declare publicly his pacific wishes and

intentions, though, as a precautionary measure, the British regiments

had been drawn from the lower provinces of Bengal to strengthen the

north-western frontier.

The Sikh soldiery had held the upper hand of power since the demise of

Runjeet Singh, and, having elected their own Punchayut to legislate in

all matters connected with the army, an increase of numbers and advance

of pay had been the consequence, although the latter still continued

some months in arrears. The Ranee had continued to hold the name of

regent for her child Dhuleep Singh; and, being possessed of much

address and natural cunning, she had contrived to retain some semblance

of authority over the soldiery. Many of the sirdars, being possessed

of considerable wealth and a proportionate suite of dependents, might,

had they been united, have held a counteracting influence; but, in the

present state of affairs, they were compelled to seek popularity with

the soldiery as the most probable means of advancement. Those who of

late had held the responsible office of vizier, had found little cause

to exult in the precarious honour; for, when unpopular with the army

or brought into collision with rival chiefs, a bullet or a cimeter had

speedily ended their career. The last and recent victim had been the

Ranee's own brother, Jowahir Singh.

The winter was now far advanced; the main body of the Sikh army

assembled, as usual, at Lahore, or in its vicinity; and none of the

sirdars having of late become particularly obnoxious,[12] the soldiery

were at a sad loss in the selection of some victim to satisfy their

thirst for blood and plunder.

The idea soon suggested itself (home being nearly exhausted) to look

abroad for conquest and rapine. The most obvious and tempting prize

for their cupidity was Hindostan. The wealth of Delhi, Agra, Benares,

Calcutta, were proverbial; and the hateful Feringhees, what masses of

rupees must lay hidden in their store-houses! The British troops were

much scattered about the face of the country; many of the sepoys might

probably be induced to desert by the promise of increased pay; and were

not the Khalsas assembled together, ready for action, and irresistible?

These reflections were carefully fomented by a representation that the

governor-general was on his progress to the frontier, and had resolved

to demand from the Sikhs a cession of all lands on the British side of

the Sutlej.

What could be more conducive to the interests of the Ranee and many

of the sirdars than these projects? What easier than to write to the

British authorities a lamentation of her inability to restrain the

licentious soldiery? Should they be repulsed, the British government

must place them in a tractable and organized condition, but could

never deprive an inoffensive child, and the hereditary successor to

the throne, of its rights, for acts unauthorized by his advisers. The

moderation of the Indian government, in its successes against the

native powers, warranted such a conclusion. On the other hand, should

the Sikh army be successful, they must look to the Ranee in authority

at Lahore for numerous requisites to be supplied for the army in

the progress of the campaign, and in case of success how faithfully

they would have been supplied. Does the matter admit of a doubt? Her

faithful and confidential adviser, her more than friend, marched with

the forces, as second in command, Rajah Lal Singh.[13]

Of late, the Ranee had devoted herself much to intoxicating liquors,

and had indulged so freely that, according to the accounts forwarded

by the governor-general's agent, Major Broadfoot, she had lost much of

the energy and intelligence which used to mark her character; nor was

she by any means singular in this propensity, for the greater portion

of the Sikh sirdars followed zealously in the steps of their mistress.

The Shalimar gardens, a few miles distant from Lahore, have witnessed

scenes of drunkenness and debauchery, unparalleled, perhaps, in any of

the capitals of modern Europe. The letters from the governor-general's

agent on the north-western frontier, from May 8th to August 10th, 1845,

will throw as true a light on the occupation and morality of the court

and army of Lahore as could be sought or desired.

Rajah Ghoolab Singh,[14] the richest and most powerful of the chiefs,

having narrowly escaped the fury of the soldiery, on a recent occasion,

at Lahore, and being, moreover, unpopular with the Ranee, remained in

his own territories at Jamoo, in the hill districts, wisely resolving

to watch the progress of events, now evidently hurrying to a crisis,

and to play his own game in due season, which, in the sequel, it will

be acknowledged, he executed in masterly style. He was continually

invited and urged to descend and take a part in the impending

hostilities, but was so earnestly engaged in making preparations on an

extensive scale that it took him many weeks to reach the capital.

On more than one occasion the Sikh army had actually marched from

Lahore towards the Sutlej, with the avowed intention of invading the

British territories, but had, on second thoughts, returned to Lahore to

discuss the matter once more.

The most effective branch of the Sikh forces were the Aeen battalions,

whose discipline and formation had been the result of many years'

exertion, in the days of Runjeet, on the part of European officers in

his service. Their arms and uniform resembled much that of our native

troops, except the peculiar Sikh turban; and, until the revolutions

which succeeded Runjeet's death, their discipline had been strictly

maintained. As the officers who had brought them to a state of

efficiency and discipline had all either left the country, died, or

been otherwise summarily disposed of, the general supposition was that

these troops would no longer be very formidable, but this impression

proved incorrect. The Aeen forces have occasionally varied in strength

and numbers, but amounted at this time to sixty battalions, whereof

about forty were with the army of Lahore, and the remainder principally

quartered in the neighbourhood of Peshawur.

Six hundred men constituted the full effective strength of each

battalion, and to each were attached its own four pieces of cannon with

their complement of artillerymen.

The Sikh artillery we had seen at exercise on former occasions, and

their fire was known to be rapid and tolerably accurate; they had,

in fact, enjoyed the reputation of being, in all respects, the best

appointed arm of their service. All had been done that lay in our

power to render them effective, for, on previous occasions, when the

governor-general paid his visits to the Lahore Durbar, it had been

usual to present the best pieces of artillery procurable, which served

for excellent models in the Lahore arsenal.

The Sikh Regular Cavalry had been abolished, and replaced by hordes

of irregulars; and as no petty chief in the Punjaub appears on public

parade without a band of armed retainers, generally well mounted and

equipped, the irregular cavalry were almost numberless.

There were also some corps of irregular infantry or Bundookcheras;

these irregulars, both cavalry and infantry, might, on emergency, be

mustered to a numerical force at least double that of the regular

troops.

With an enemy of this description assembled forty miles from the

British frontier, and with fords innumerable along the line of the

Sutlej, between Ferozepore and Loodiana, during the cold season, it

must be acknowledged that the game was not an easy one to Sir Henry

Hardinge, when desirous of appearing peaceably disposed.

By the treaty of 1809, Runjeet Singh bound himself not to cross

any armed parties into the protected Sikh states, beyond what were

necessary for the collection of revenue; and when any large body of

troops were moved, an intimation of the march and the causes was

always sent to the British political agent. The vizier, Jowahir Singh,

insisted that this custom should be abolished, alleging that the Lahore

government had a right to send over any body of troops they might deem

requisite to suppress disturbances occurring in the lands in question,

without awaiting for the permission of the British authorities. The

protected Sikh chiefs, being mostly possessed of lands on both sides

of the Sutlej, concurred in Jowahir Singh's views, which tended to

establish their own independence, by permitting the passage of troops

from their possessions on one bank, to those on the other--a measure

evidently at variance with our interests and security, as it must

render all efforts to ascertain the numerical force of armed parties in

the Cis-Sutlej states abortive.

The actual assemblage of an army on the Sutlej was considered, by Sir

Henry Hardinge, unadvisable, as tending to display hostile intentions

on our part, and likely to cause a rupture with the Sikh forces in

their present excited state; yet, by refraining from such a measure,

our frontier was exposed, at any time during the winter and spring,[15]

to the ravages of an army which might commit serious depredations

before a British force could be assembled to oppose it.

The forts of Ferozepore and Loodiana were perfectly secure; the former,

being constructed on modern principles, and garrisoned by British

troops, might have held out as long as required; but both cantonments

and native towns were exposed to the will of the enemy. This was

a fundamental error in both positions, which, being thrown so far

forward from any support, should have been actually fortresses only,

constructed on the best modern principles, and unencumbered by large

towns and indefensible cantonments.

On the British side of the river, the population in the protected

Sikh states being intimately connected with that of the Punjaub, and

many portions of the land actually the property of Sikh sirdars with

the army, it is natural to suppose that we possessed but doubtful

friends in case of their being called upon. On the other hand, it was

maintained that the position of these lands would be a guarantee for

the good behaviour of their owners residing in the Punjaub, whose

interests would probably suffer in case of a rupture.

The Rajah of Puttealah, the most powerful chief residing in the

protected states, had long been a firm ally of the British Government,

but his power to restrain his followers was doubtful; at the best, no

doubt was entertained that they would not act in offensive measures

against their Sikh kinsmen.

FOOTNOTES:

[Footnote 7: Though from a different cause, the bore of the Ganges

proceeding from spring tides forced up the narrow gorge of the Bay

of Bengal; that on the Damooda, from the inundation bursting its

obstructions.]

[Footnote 8: If there happen to be rocks in the stream, a strike is apt

to prove fatal to the raft.]

[Footnote 9: Known in India as the "gour." Those who may be desirous of

reading an animated description of the pursuit of this noble game, will

find an article in the first number of the "Indian Sporting Review,"

signed "Junglee," written by a sportsman who has few rivals and no

superiors. He is the acknowledged monarch of the jungles, and long may

he reign.]

[Footnote 10: The remainder resided near Calcutta, at Dum-dum, the

artillery cantonment.]

[Footnote 11: The credit of this improvement is due to Lord

Ellenborough.]

[Footnote 12: Some of the soldiers had suggested the murder of the

sirdars, Lal Singh and Tig Singh (two chiefs of the army), as a

temporary amusement, but the majority being indifferent to the measure,

the subject was allowed to drop.]

[Footnote 13: Lal Singh's presence with the army was deemed, by the

Punchees, (military delegates,) a politic measure, and a sort of

security for the good behaviour of _her respectable_ majesty the Ranee.]

[Footnote 14: Ghoolab Singh, Soochet Singh, and Dyan Singh, were

three brothers who had risen to eminence in the time of Runjeet, from

comparative obscurity. The two latter fell, during the wholesale

massacres at Lahore, a short time ago.]

[Footnote 15: In the hot season, when the rains set in, the heavy

floods and inundations are a sufficient protection to the frontier.]

Military Service and Adventures in the Far East: Vol. 2 (of 2) Including Sketches of the Campaigns Against the Afghans in 1839, and the Sikhs in 1845-6. · 第 3 / 11 章