LETTER LIX.
Having, in my last Letter, said as much as I thought justice demanded in defence of General Mathews, against the charge of peculation, I am now to speak of him as his conduct touched me. He was, as I have already mentioned, an old friend of my father’s, and an intimate of my own: I had reason, therefore, to expect from him, according to the usual dispositions and manners of men, if not partiality, at least friendship; and in such a case as I have related, where my services gave me a claim to notice, it was not unreasonable to suppose that he would have been forward to promote my interest, by stating my services in such a manner as to call attention to them. He had, however, some disagreeable discussions with his Officers; and seeing I was on a footing of intimacy with Colonel Humbertson, and still more with Major Campbell (he who so ably and gallantly defended Mangalore against Tippoo’s whole army and six hundred French), and finding me extremely zealous and importunate to have his arrangement with Hyat Sahib adhered to, he became displeased, and, though he himself had determined that I should remain with him, changed his mind, and ordered me away at an hour’s notice——many days sooner than he had originally intended to send off any dispatches. He moreover occasioned my losing a sum of money, and on the whole paid less attention to my interest than the circumstances of the case demanded.
In the evening of the day on which he determined on my departure, I set off with his dispatches to the Governments of Madras and Bengal, and reached the most distant of our posts that night. From thence I had thirty miles to Cundapore, a sea-port town upon the Malabar coast, taken by us from the enemy. During this journey, which was through the Country of Tippoo Sahib, I had only six Sepoys to conduct me: yet, such was the universal panic that had seized all classes and distinctions of people at the progress of the British arms in that quarter, I met only a few scattered Sepoys, who were so badly wounded I presume they were unable to travel——the villages throughout being completely abandoned by all their inhabitants.
The sudden change of diet, which physicians tell us, and I experienced, is dangerous, from bad to good, as well as the reverse, conspiring with the mortification I felt at seeing things going on so very contrary to what I wished, and what I had reason to expect, had a most sudden and alarming effect upon my constitution; and I was seized on the road with the most excruciating, internal pains, which were succeeded by a violent vomiting of blood. At length, with great difficulty, I reached Cundapore, where the Commanding Officer, and all about him, did every thing in their power to afford me assistance and comfort under my miseries, which increased every hour rapidly. I felt as if my inside was utterly decayed, and all its functions lost in debility: at the same time my head seemed deranged——I could scarcely comprehend the meaning of what was said: lifting up my head was attended with agonizing pain; and if I had any power of thought, it was to consider myself as approaching fast to dissolution. I had the sense, however, to send to General Mathews, to acquaint him with my indisposition, and utter inability to proceed with his dispatches. To this I received the following Letter:
“Bidanore, Feb. 3, 1783.
“Dear Campbell,
“I am sorry to hear that you have been unwell. Should your indisposition increase, or continue, so as to render you unable to pursue your journey with the necessary expedition, I beg that you will forward the Letters to Anjengo by a boat, with directions to Mr. Hutchinson to send them per tappy[[9]] to Palamcotah, and so on to Madras.
“I shall hope to hear of your recovery, and that you’ll have gone to sea.
“Your’s very truly,
Richard Mathews.”
[9]. Post, or express.
The receipt of this Letter induced me, bad as I was, to make one other exertion; and I resolved, though I should die on the way, not to leave any thing which, even by malicious construction, could be made a set-off against my claims: I therefore hired an open boat to carry me along the coast to Anjengo, and set out with every prospect of having the virulence of my disorder increased, by being exposed in an uncovered vessel to the damp of the night air, and the raging heat of the sun in the day, and of being arrested by the hand of death in my way. By the time I had got down the coast as far as Mangalore, my complaints increased to an alarming height; and I became speechless, and unable to stand. Fortunately there happened to be a Company’s vessel then lying at anchor off that place, the Captain of which had the goodness to invite me to remain on board with him, strenuously advising that I should give up the thoughts of proceeding immediately on my voyage to Anjengo, which I could not possibly survive, and to forward my dispatches by another hand. The Surgeon of the ship joining the Captain in opinion that I could not survive if I attempted it, and my own judgment coinciding with their’s, I at length consented, and remained there.
Tranquillity, kind treatment, and good medical assistance, produced, in the space of two or three weeks, so material a change in my health, I was in a condition to avail myself, at the expiration of that time, of a ship bound to Anjengo, and which offering the additional inducement of touching at Tellicherry, determined me to take my passage in her. When I arrived at Tellicherry, and during my stay there, the great attention shewn[shewn] me by Mr. Freeman, the Chief of that place, and the comforts of his house, restored me to a great share of health and spirits——And here a very singular circumstance occurred.
One day a vessel arrived; and perceiving a boat coming on shore from her, Mr. Freeman and I walked down to the beach, to make the usual inquiries——such as, where she came from? what news she brought? &c. &c. As soon as the boat touched the shore, a Gentleman leaped out of it, whose person seemed familiar to me: upon his nearer approach, I discovered that it was Mr. Brodey, a Gentleman who had been kind enough to take upon him the office of my Attorney, upon my leaving India some years before——not my Attorney in the ordinary acceptation of that word, but a liberal and disinterested friend, who obligingly undertook the management of my affairs in my absence, without the smallest hope of advantage, or rather under circumstances which served as preludes to further obligations. I was certainly pleased and surprised to see him; but his astonishment to see me amounted almost to a distrust of his eye-sight: he had received such indubitable proofs of my death, that my sudden appearance on his landing, at the first rush of thought, impressed him with the notion of a deceptio visus. My identity, however, was too positive for resistance; and his wonder melted down into cordial satisfaction, and congratulations on my safety. He then took out a pocket account-book, in which, for security against accidents, he kept accounts-current, written in a brief manner——and shewed me mine, settled almost to the very day, upon which was transcribed a copy of a letter he had received, and which he thought was a testimony of my death. So, cutting out the account, and presenting it to me, he expressed, in the most cordial and handsome manner, his joy that it was into my own hands he had at last had an opportunity to deliver it. This Gentleman is now in this Kingdom, and too well known for me to describe him. Suffice it to say, that in England, as well as in India, he has always enjoyed the esteem and respect of all his acquaintances, to as great an extent as any other person I know.
I again embarked to proceed on my voyage, and had hardly got on board when a ship dropped anchor along side of us, in which Captain Campbell of Comby, a very near connection of mine, was passenger. On hailing one another, he heard that I was on board, and immediately was with me. Those who sincerely love each other, and whose hearts confess the fond ties of consanguinity, can alone conceive what our mutual pleasure was at meeting so unexpectedly in so remote a corner of the world. He was then on his way to join the army. This amiable young man now reposes in the Bed of Honour at Mangalore! He fell, after having distinguished himself in the very gallant defence made by that place against the whole force of Tippoo. With regret we parted; and in due time I arrived at Anjengo without any accident befalling me, which was rather extraordinary.
Leaving Anjengo, I set out for Madras, designing to go all the way by land——a journey of near eight hundred miles. I accordingly struck through the Kingdom of Travancore, whose Sovereign is in alliance with the English; and had not long entered the territories of the Nabob of Arcot, before Major Macneal, an old friend of mine, and Commandant of a fort in that district, met me, preceded by a troop of dancing girls, who encircled my palanquin, dancing around me until I entered the Major’s house.
It would be difficult to give you an adequate notion of those dancing girls. Trained up from their infancy to the practice of the most graceful motions, the most artful display of personal symmetry, and the most wanton allurements, they dance in such a style, and twine their limbs and bodies into such postures, as bewitch the senses, and extort applause and admiration where in strictness disapprobation is due: nor is their agility inferior to the grace of their movements——though they do not exert it in the same skipping way that our stage dancers do, but make it subservient to the elegance, and, I may say, grandeur, of their air. They are generally found in troops of six or eight, attended by musicians, whose aspect and dress are as uncouth and squalid, as the sounds they produce under the name of music are inelegant, harsh and dissonant. To this music, from which measure as much as harmony is excluded, they dance, most wonderfully adapting their step to the perpetual change of the time, accompanying it with amorous songs, while the correspondent action of their body and limbs, the wanton palpitation and heaving of their exquisitely formed bosoms, and the amorous, or rather lascivious expression of their countenance, excite in the spectators emotions not very favourable to chastity. Thus they continue to act, till, by the warmth of exercise and imagination, they become seemingly frantic with ecstacy, and, sinking down motionless with fatigue, throw themselves into the most alluring attitudes that ingenious vice and voluptuousness can possibly devise.
That such incitements to vice should make a part of the system of any society, is to be lamented: yet, at all ceremonies and great occasions, whether of religious worship or domestic enjoyment, they make a part of the entertainment; and the altar of their gods, and the purity of the marriage rites, are alike polluted by the introduction of the dancing girls. The impurity of this custom, however, vanishes in India, when compared with the hideous practice of introducing dancing boys.
The Major, after having entertained me in the most hospitable manner, accompanied me to Palamcotah, to the house of Doctor Dott, who lived in a generous and hospitable style. I had once had an opportunity of evincing my good disposition to this Gentleman, when he was most critically situated; and the reception he gave me demonstrated, that he then retained a lively sense of my conduct to him.
Leaving Palamcotah, I continued my route through Madura. This Country is rendered remarkable by the revolt of the famous Isif Cawn, who made a bold and well-conducted attempt to erect himself into the Sovereignty of that Province, independent of the Nabob of the Carnatic, in whose service he was: and as the affair occurs to my thoughts, I will, for your information, notwithstanding its being unconnected with my story, digress into an account of it. As soon as the revolt of Isif Cawn was known, General Monson, an Officer of great military skill and personal merit, went against him at the head of the King’s and Company’s troops, and invested the fort of Madura, in which that rebellious Chief was posted. The General made a practicable breach, and, in storming, was beat back with great slaughter by Isif; and the setting in of the monsoons immediately after, retarded the further operations of our army against the place; and in the interim, peace having been concluded between the Courts of St. James’s and Versailles, the King’s troops were withdrawn.
On the recal of the King’s troops, an army of Company’s troops was formed, to proceed against Madura, in order to reduce this gallant turbulent rebel to subjection; and the renowned General Lawrence being rendered incapable of actual service, and obliged to remain at the Presidency by extreme age and infirmity, the chief command devolved upon my father by seniority: he headed the expedition; and, after overcoming innumerable difficulties thrown in his way by the inventive genius and enterprising spirit of Isif Cawn, again made a breach, which was deemed practicable by the chief engineer, now Sir John Call. An assault was made with no better success than the former; for our army was again repulsed with incredible slaughter: more than two thirds, I believe, of our European Officers, were among the killed or wounded; and the death of Major Preston, second in command, a man endeared to the army by the possession of every advantage of person, heart and talents—an active, intrepid and able Officer—aggravated the calamities of the day.
If, impelled by my feelings, or tempted by remembrance of the past, I sometimes digress from the direct path of my narrative, my Frederick will accompany me, not only with patience, but I dare say with pleasure: I cannot refrain, therefore, from mentioning a memorable occurrence during that siege, not only as it is somewhat extraordinary in itself, but as it relates to a very near and dear connection. Colonel Donald Campbell, who then commanded the Cavalry, received no less than fourteen sword-wounds and a musquet-ball in his body—yet continued doing his duty with such cool intrepidity, that brave soldiers who were witnesses to it, expressed the utmost astonishment: upon being requested to quit the field, he replied, that as his family were provided for, he had nothing to fear; and as it was very unlikely his life could be saved, he would not deprive his Country of any advantage that might be derived from his exertions for the short residue of it, but continue to the last moment at his duty. With all this firmness and magnanimity, he was gentle, good-humoured, modest and unassuming; and was admired for his great personal beauty, as well as military talents, particularly by the Duke of Cumberland, under whom he served in the war in Germany as a subaltern Officer, in so much that His Royal Highness had his picture drawn. It was to him the Company were first indebted for the introduction of perfect military discipline into their army in India. In the various relations in which he stood, whether domestic or public, as, the subject, the citizen, the father, or the friend, he was so uniformly excellent, that the shafts of malevolence, which the best and wisest of men have but too often felt, seldom reached him; and he may justly be reckoned amongst that very small number of created beings, of whom scarcely any one had the audacity to speak ill. Upon my first arrival in India, I was put under his command, and lived in his family——when, instead of deporting himself towards me with that reserve and austerity which rank and reputation like his, coupled with the circumstance of his being my uncle, might in some sort have justified, he took me into his confidence, treated me with the greatest affection, and acted rather as the brother and the equal, than as the parent and superior; and thus, his gentle admonitions had more effect in restraining the sallies of youth, and impetuosity of my temper, than the sour, unpalatable documents of a supercilious preceptor could possibly have had.
The wonderful effects of this happy temper in swaying the stubborn disposition of headstrong youth, was exemplified in another instance—of which, since I am on the subject, I will inform you. Mr. Dupres, then Governor of Madras, wrote to him about a young Gentleman, in the following words:
“My dear Colonel,
“In the list of Officers appointed to your garrison, you will see the name of ——-. This young man (nephew to Mrs. Dupres), with abilities that might render him conspicuous, I am sorry to say, stands in need of a strict hand. All the favour I have to request of you is to shew him no favour: keep him rigidly to his duty; and, if he requires it, rule him with a rod of iron. Should his future conduct meet your approbation, it is unnecessary for me to ask it, as you are always ready to shew kindness to those who merit it.”
The peculiar style of this letter made such an impression on my memory, that I am able to give the exact words. Colonel Campbell, however, took his own unalterable method, mildness——treated the young Gentleman in such a manner as to raise in him a consciousness of his dignity as a man, the first and best guard against misconduct——and appointed him to the grenadier company[company]. The result was answerable to his expectations; for the young man’s conduct, both as an Officer and a Gentleman, was such in the sequel as to reflect credit on himself and his family; and his very honourable and hopeful career was at last terminated by a cannon-ball at the siege of Tanjore.
If the veneration in which I shall ever hold this most dear and respected relative admitted of increase, it would certainly receive it from the contrast I am every day obliged to draw between him and the wretched butterflies who sometimes flutter round us under the name of Men: for, how can I help contrasting his inflexible courage, united to angelic mildness, with the insolence of lilly-livered Hectors, who, conscious of the most abject cowardice, dare to give an insult, and basely skulk from honest resentment beneath the arm of the Law!——fellows who, like Bobadil in the play, can kill a whole army with the tongue, but dare not face a pigmy in the field!——and, while they want the prudence to restrain the torrent of effeminate invective, have patience enough to bear a kicking, or a box in the ear!——who bluster and vapour to hide the trembling limb and poltroon aspect, as children whittle in the dark to brave the ghosts they dread! Beware of all such wretches as you would shun plague or pestilence. I hope you do not imagine that I have so little common sense or philanthropy as to censure those who, from physical causes or constitutional delicacy, are averse to contest: No, no——I do assure you, on the contrary, that my observation leads me to think such men, though slow to quarrel, and inoffensive in conduct, are very gallant when honour or duty demand from them a conquest over their weakness. I have, in my time, seen such men at first the sport, and at last the terror of your blustering bullies; and I have always thought, that in such a triumph over their feelings, they had more true merit than men constitutionally courageous: the latter has his valour in common with the mere animal; the other possesses the valour of sentiment. I mean that most ignominious of all beings, who, prodigal in offence, yet reluctant in reparation——who, hoping to find some person passive as themselves over whom to triumph, hazard the giving of an insult, with the malignant view to gasconade over him if he submits——and, if he resents, to wreak the whole vengeance of Law upon him. In society with such men, there is no safety; for they leave you only the casual alternative to choose between shame and ruin. Him who submits, they call poltroon; and him who resents, they fleece in form of Law. There are others who, to bring their fellow-creatures down to their own level, brave the execrations of Mankind, and the vengeance of Heaven; such harpies do exist, who, though bold enough to insult, are tame enough to receive chastisement without resistance; and, though tame enough to submit to chastisement, are so furiously vindictive as to proclaim their shame, their cowardice, perhaps in the face of an open Court, in order to glut their revenge by the pillage of their adversary’s purse. Let such men enjoy the fruits of their machinations, if they can——To their own feelings I consign them; for I can wish a villain no greater curse than the company of his own conscience, nor a poltroon a more poignant sting than that which the contempt of Mankind inflicts upon him.