Memoirs of a griffin

by Francis John Bellew

I shall not inflict on the reader a dry detail of the occurrences of the next three days; let it suffice to state, that at the end of that period, having duly reported my arrival, &c., I found myself in possession of an advance of 150 sicca rupees, sterling money of Bengal, four bare walls and a puckah floor in the south barracks of Fort William, and about to fit up the same in the first style of griffinish fashion, under the able direction of Chattermohun Ghose.

The south barracks is one of several ranges within the Fort, and allotted principally to the accommodation of unmarried subs. Like the Burlington Arcade, it has a long passage down the centre, into which the doors of the several quarters open; but here the resemblance ceases. Here I had a practical illustration of the ill-working of the social system, the living in a species of community under the present discordant and defective state of our feelings and habits. The passage was sounding and reverberating, and each occupant of a quarter had much of the benefit of his neighbour’s flute, fiddle, or French horn, whether “i’ the vein” for harmony or not; shoe brushings, occasional yells of servants undergoing the discipline of fist or cane, jolly ensigns and cadets clattering up and down, cracking horsewhips, whistling the “Flaxen-headed Cow-boy” or “Begone Dull Care,” the arrival of files of coolies laden with purchases from the China Bazaar or Tulloch’s Auction Room, pleasantly varied by interminable wranglings on the part of master’s sirdar or bursar, touching payments and dustoorie, or custom; payees urging pleas in deprecation of abatement, sirdar overruling the same—constituted a few of the désagrémens of a south-barrack life. The optical department was not less varied and novel; but it could be shut out at pleasure, an advantage not predicable of the former.

The aspect of the passage varied with the hour; he who strolled down it, about the hour of dawn, or a little after, might catch glimpses, through half-opened doors, of all stages of the toilet, from soap-suds and dressing-gowns, to what painters term the “ultima basia” or finishing touches; possibly, too, he might have a peep at the ensign’s lady, “the soldier’s bride,” divested of all the romance with which song-composers and novelists are wont to invest her; hair en papillottes, sleeves tucked up, and washing Augustus or Tommy. At ten, the scene was changed; without the doors, on the ground, might be seen a goodly display of trays, with egg-shells, fish-bones, rice, muffin, and other wrecks of breakfast; sweepers—certain degraded menials, “all same caste as master,”—squatting near and waiting for the said remnants; hookhas or kulians in course of preparation for those who indulged in the luxury of smoking; and here and there, perhaps, a sergeant, havildar, or strapping grenadier sepoy, waiting for the summons from within to give this morning’s report:—noon and evening, tiffin and dinner, each brought its appropriate proceedings, and varied the aspect of the common passage, which will long, with the force of a first impression, remain strongly engraven on my memory.

Of late years, with the view of protecting young officers on their arrival, from those impositions, scrapes, and embarrassments, to which, owing to their youth and inexperience, they were formerly exposed, the Government has considerately created an appointment, called the “superintendent of cadets,”—a measure well calculated to mitigate the evil.

The system of sending youths to India at the early ages of fifteen or sixteen, appears to me to be one fraught with evil, against which its advantages weigh but as dust in the balance. At that early age, the character and principles are generally quite unformed, and, intoxicated on becoming uncontrolled master of himself, emancipated from the thraldom of home or school, the cadet launches or did launch (unless, in this “go-ahead” age, things have greatly altered) into idleness, dissipation, and frivolity, feeling through life (if not cut off in his prime) the effects of habits and follies which, under all circumstances, and knowing youth’s plastic nature, it was not probable he would avoid.

Often the finest natures are the first to fall victims to the absence of salutary restraint, or they plough their way to wisdom through bitter experience, finding that “gem above price” when it is probably too late to be of use to them. The wildnesses and consequent escapades of such boys have tended to lower the European character very considerably in the estimation of the natives; and the sepoys, and above all, the veteran native officers, must, and I am convinced do, feel strongly their being subjected to the control and caprice of such striplings. It is, perhaps, an unavoidable consequence of our anomalous rule in India, that the native should in no case be allowed to command the European; but, wherever possible, we should at least avoid placing hoary age and madcap inexperience in such a degrading juxtaposition. I have known such youths (truth obliges me to include myself amongst the number) order about, and not unfrequently use harsh and unbecoming language to venerable native officers, whose silver beards, and breasts covered with medals, spoke of many a campaign, and services rendered to the state, before probably even the stripling’s sire was in existence. As the empire of opinion—the awe which our superior energy and science have inspired—dies away, and even now it is on the wane—it will be well to have a store of affection on which to fall back—an anchorage in the hearts of the people of India, when our power over their prejudices has relaxed its hold.

Chattermohun Ghose, having, as a preliminary proceeding, given me a list of things which I must have—Bengal indispensables—and having been duly authorized to procure the same, he very soon made his appearance with about a dozen and a half of coolies or porters, bearing, amongst other articles, a camp-table, a cane-bottom sleeping-cot, a setringie, or cotton carpet, about one-third the size of my room, two chairs, some Chinese chinaware, and copper cooking-utensils, and a huge basin, something of the shape of Mambrino’s helmet, on an iron tripod stand, which it puzzled me sorely to guess the use of.

“What do you call this, Chattermohun?” said I; “is it a chafing-dish, or what?”

“Chafey-dish! no, Sar; that call chillumchee, for wash hand, with ablution—all gentilmen have chillumchee.”

The appendages of the toilet, by the way, and the manner in which it is performed, in India, amongst Europeans, differ so essentially from those of home, that they excite considerable surprise in the new comer.