1838, Jan. 8th.—Arrived at Jellalabad without any adventures. Went to hear the band in the evening, but felt weary from not having slept the night before on account of the yells of the packs of jackals in every direction round the tent, and the noise of the sentries keeping off the people from Kanauj. We were in a complete jangal: a wolf came up to my tent at mid-day, then trotting over to the opposite tent, carried off my neighbour’s kid.
9th.—Early this morning I overtook Colonel M⸺, who was marching with his regiment, and rode with him some miles: we passed over a most curiously built suspension bridge, thrown over the Kala-nadī by the late Nawab Hakīm Menhdī; the pillars through which some part of the workmanship passes are remarkable. The sight of the river put me in mind of the excellence and large size of the arwarī fish it contains. Afterwards, speaking of this sort of mullet to Captain O⸺, he told me he had sent out a man to shoot arwarī fish, who had returned quite sick from having seen a hundred and thirty dead bodies choking up the river.
10th.—Arrived at Fathīgarh.
12th.—Dined with Major Sutherland, the Resident of Gwalior, who was in attendance on the Governor-General. A number of friends were assembled; a bright fire blazed in the tent; our host was the life of the party; the dinner was excellent. I have seldom passed a more agreeable evening.
13th.—Crossed the river on a bridge of boats that had been erected for the accommodation of the Lord Sāhib, as the natives call the Governor-General.
They say there are about eleven thousand people with the camp, and elephants and camels innumerable, which, added to the Body guard, Artillery, and Infantry, form an immense multitude. It is said his Lordship’s marching about the country costs the Government 70,000 rupees a month; the encampment encroaching on fields of grain often costs from 300 to 400 rupees a day to make up the loss sustained by the peasants. On the other side the bridge, the road was marked out by little flags,—and a most heartbreaking road it was; entirely through the dry bed of the river, nearly axle deep in fine sand: the day was bitterly cold, the wind very high, and the flying sand filled our eyes and mouths. I was too unwell to mount my horse, and the result was that the two greys had to drag me the whole way in the Stanhope. The first thing I discovered was my ayha in her cart fixed in the sand, and quite immovable. Some soldiers came forward and helped her out of her difficulty. All the Company’s hackeries had come to an anchor. The soldiers, finding the bullocks had no power to extricate them from the sand, took out the animals, and harnessed themselves, some thirty or forty men to each cart, and dragged it until it reached better ground.
I came up to my tent at Imrutpūr, and found it was pitched close to the lines of the camp of the Governor-General; this could not be altered at the time, the other tent not having come up, and being ill I laid down to rest. The other tent did not come up until it was too late to pitch it; and in the evening I was annoyed at finding I was within the rules of the camp, within the sentries, which I had given strict orders to avoid, and which my people had disobeyed by mistake when pitching the tent during the night. Indeed, the long march over the sand of the river had harassed them, and when it is particularly cold, the natives are more stupid than usual.
14th.—I was quite ill, and much inclined to give up my journey altogether, but as my tent was pitched within the rules, I got up very early, had the other tent pitched without the rules, went into it, and struck the former. Captain C⸺ wrote to mention it had been observed that the tent had been pitched within the line of sentries, and to request I would give orders to my khalasīs to prevent the recurrence of the circumstance. I therefore determined to change my route; and a note having come from Mrs. H⸺, saying their party having quitted the great camp were going to Alligarh, and requesting me to join them, I accepted the invitation with great pleasure.
19th.—Finished a march of fifteen miles before half-past eight A.M.; halted at Nawabgunge; breakfasted with my friends; a most kind welcome, a bright fire, and an excellent breakfast, made me quite happy. The formality of the great camp I had just quitted formed a strong contrast to the gaiety and cheerfulness of marching under the flag of the Resident of Gwalior.
23rd.—We arrived at Khāsgunge, and encamped in the Mango Tope just beyond the village. After breakfast, I drove four miles to see Mr. James Gardner, who had succeeded to his father’s property, and was living at his house. I found the place quite deserted; Mr. Gardner was at one of his villages some miles off, but his wife, Mulka Begam, was at home. I sent word I would pay my respects to her if she could receive me. In the mean time I went into the garden, and visited all those spots where I had so often enjoyed the society of my dear friend Colonel Gardner. The pavilion in the centre of the garden, in which I had nursed him when he was so ill, recalled to mind the conversation we then had, which ended in his taking me to the tomb of his son just beyond the garden; we sat on that tomb, and the dear old man said, pointing to the spot, “I wish to be buried there, by the side of my son; another year will not pass ere I shall be placed there; you are very kind in trying to persuade me, my dear daughter, that I have still many years before me, but I feel I am going, my constitution is gone; it is well that with old age we feel all these pains and the ills that accompany it; were it not so, we should never be willing to quit this world.” Our conversation lasted some time, afterwards he took my arm, and we returned slowly to the house. I visited his grave: his son had raised a tomb on the spot selected by his father; it was not quite finished. I knelt at the grave of my kind, kind friend, and wept and prayed in deep affliction. His Begam had only survived him a few days. She was buried in the same tomb, with her head to Mecca, towards which place the face of a true believer is always turned when laid in the grave. The corpse of a Muhammadan is laid on its back in the grave, with the head to the north and feet to the south, turning its face towards the kibla (or Mecca, i.e. west). The Shī’as make their tombs for men of the same shape as the Sunnīs make those for females; and for women like those of the Sunnīs for men, but with a hollow, or basin, in the centre of the upper part.