Although the labours of the march were ended, I felt myself far from comfortable in my new quarters, for the greater part of my baggage was on the Ganges—some eight hundred miles off; I was not settled in any habitation; and lastly, I was among strangers: the two latter objections were soon overcome, but the former I found a serious inconvenience.
No life of which I can form an estimate, even that on board ship, can present fewer attractions than a residence, during the hot season, in India. In the upper provinces, about the end of April, the hot winds come rushing from the sandy deserts to the westward, bearing on their fiery wings columns of burning dust, which penetrate to every room in the house, and replenish the eyes, ears, and mouth of the sufferer who ventures to face them faster than he can dispose of the nuisance. A framework of bamboos, covered with long roots of grass termed cuscus, is placed against the windows and doors to the westward, which are continually watered outside by a native, at the expense of keeping up his attention by an occasional "halloo." About sunset, the wind usually drops, and the air remains impregnated with particles of fiery red dust; and as that is the time for coming out of the heated dwelling to swallow the hotter air outside, we may as well change the subject, for it is not likely to prove interesting or agreeable.
Towards the end of June, these messengers of the desert cease to arrive; a calm interval (but rather a restless calm) succeeds, which is shortly broken, if the season be favourable, by the approach of heavy columns of clouds from the east, which burst over the thirsty plains of India like angels' visits. The sensation of renovated existence conveyed by this first fall of rain both to animal and vegetable may be imagined even by those who have witnessed the rare effect of a short summer's drought in rainy England.
From the descriptions I had heard of our present quarters, I imagined Merut to be a most picturesque little elysium; but those accounts were generally spitefully uttered by discontented Indians, during a summer's drizzle or a London fog. The stern reality varied little from the character of other cantonments which I had visited during my march up the country, either in point of climate or scenery. The barracks are oblong, single-storied buildings, dressed with mathematical precision, (and conveying from a distance the idea of so many petrified columns of troops,) flanked with equally precise roads.
In rear of the men's barracks are arranged, in similar order, the officers' bungalows, each enclosed in a small square compound, the condition of which depends of course on the pursuits or taste of the owner.
The massive bungalow to the right of the line, is flanked by high mud walls, to which are appended dog-kennels on one side and extensive stables on the other. More care and attention have evidently been bestowed on this than on the dwelling-house. The available land, embellished by a patch of oats and a parterre of half-demolished lucerne, proclaims the owner an amateur of the turf and field.
The small, but neater-looking building at the further extremity of the line, situated in the midst of a garden, fragrant with many a variety of flower and carefully-pruned shrub, tell, beyond a doubt, that some benign influence has dispensed these blessings on the soil, whilst the house contains the gem itself:
"In the cup of life,
That honey drop—the virtuous wife."
Gardens overgrown with weeds, dilapidated walls and gates, testify the indolence or indifference of other owners; and yonder drowsy-looking building, with most of its shutters closed, and the verandah piled with six dozen chests, beside which are reclining, in good-humoured repose, a numerous and motley group of marines, who have travelled from the generous vineyards of France and Germany to perform their last duty on the burning soil of Hindostan,—all these afford too strong evidence to require explanation.
The heat of the weather during June, this year, certainly exceeded anything I had ever anticipated, and its continuance day and night became deeply oppressive to the spirits of the uninitiated. About the middle of the month, we had a smart shock of an earthquake, which was felt from Calcutta to the Himalayah mountains, although it caused little injury. The sensation was of a most singular and disagreeable nature, the roof of the house assuming a menacing attitude, and appearing to rock to and fro; but giddiness prevented me from being over particular in taking observations. A small cistern of water becoming violently agitated and overflowing its sides, was illustrative of what happened after the shock was over.