“I am, worthy Griff,
“Yours, &c.,
“J. Marpeet.”
A few days brought me to Futtyghur, of which I have nothing particular to record, excepting that the adjoining town of Furruckabad is celebrated for the manufacture of tent cloth and camp equipage, and as the scene of the defeat of Holkar’s cavalry by our dragoons in Lord Lake’s war.
By the way, an officer who was in that action told the relator, that the Brummagem swords of the troopers would make little or no impression on the quilted jackets and vests of the Mahrattas, and that he saw many of them dismount and take the well-tempered blades of the natives they had pistoled, and use them instead of their own. The keen razor-like swords of the East give those who wield them a fearful advantage over men armed with our mealy affairs. The former will split a man down from the “nave to the chine,” or slice off his head with infinite ease (sauf karna, “to shave him clean,” is the Indian phrase), whilst ours require immense physical force to produce such a result.
The author once met some troopers of the 4th Regiment of Native Cavalry, some squadrons of which were dismissed for turning tail when ordered to charge the ex-rajah of Kotah’s body-guard, and asked them how they came to disgrace themselves. The answer of one of them was,—
“Why, what chance, sir, have we with men in chain armour, and wielding swords of such a temper that they will cut down horse and man at a single blow?”
I mention this as hearing on recent acts and discussions, not in justification of the men, but as affording a probable clue to the backwardness of our cavalry on some occasions. I think we are prone to rely too much on the power of disciplined troops acting en masse, to the neglect of those matters calculated to increase individual prowess. Good arms are a first-rate consideration, not only for the superior execution they do, but on account of the confidence with which they inspire the soldier.
At Futtyghur my tent was besieged by the venders of cloth, &c., and one man brought a number of tulwars (swords) made at Rampore, in Rohilcund, a place celebrated for them, for sale. After some higgling, I purchased one, a keen and well-poised blade, for the small sum of Rs. 4. I longed to try it upon some neck or other, and, as luck would have it, soon had the desired opportunity, on a felonious pariar dog, which had made free with a portion of my dinner.
I had advanced some four or five marches beyond Furruckabad, each day diversified by some novelty in the scenery—some fresh object, in the shape of travellers, pilgrims, buildings, and the like—but still beginning to feel the want of a companion whose language was the same as my own, when one morning, as I was strolling, with my pellet-bow in my hand (for I had resumed it, in spite of the crack on the thumb), I observed at a distance a horseman slowly approaching.