It was sunset on the last day of March as we crossed the river Jhiri. I had come all those weary miles through dangers great and terrible, and was alive to tell the tale. Illness had spared us all. We might have had cholera amongst us, to add to the rest of our troubles; but we had been free from that.
To me, a woman, solitary and alone amongst so many men, the march had been doubly trying; but to hear them say that I had not been a burden upon them was some reward for all I had endured.
It has been said lately by some that this retreat to Cachar was in a great measure due to my presence in Manipur at the time, and that my helplessness has been the means of dragging the good name of the army, and the Ghoorka corps in particular, through the mire, by strongly influencing the officers in their decision to effect ‘the stampede to Cachar.’
But I scarcely think that they would have allowed the presence of, and danger to one woman to deter them from whatever they considered their duty; and had they decided to remain at the Residency that night, I should never have questioned their right to do so, even as I raised no argument for or against the retreat to Cachar.
I think that the honour of England is as dear to us women as it is to the men; and though it is not our vocation in life to be soldiers, and to fight for our country, yet, when occasion offers, I have little doubt that the women of England have that in them which would enable them to come out of any dilemma as nobly and honourably as the men, and with just as much disregard for their own lives as the bravest soldier concerned.
But such an insinuation as I have quoted is not, I am happy to think, the unspoken opinion of the many to whom the story of Manipur is familiar. It is but the uncharitable verdict of a few who are perhaps jealous of fair fame honestly won, and who think to take a little sweetness from the praise which England has awarded to a woman.
That such praise has been bestowed is more than sufficient reward for what, after all, many another Englishwoman would have done under similar circumstances.
CHAPTER XIX.
Our ignorance as to Mr. Quinton’s proceedings—News at last reach India and England—Take off my clothes for the first time for ten days—March to Lahkipur—The ladies of Cachar send clothes to me—Write home—Great kindness shown to me—My fears for my husband—The telegram arrives with fatal news—Major Grant’s narrative.