Several committees were subsequently appointed to consider the question of barracks, and finally an officer of experience, under the title of Inspector-General of Military Buildings, was appointed to collate the various information collected, and to prepare standard plans of barracks for the various stations at which the Government of India had determined, on strategic grounds, to maintain a permanent force of British soldiers. It should be remarked in reference to this point that erroneous impressions often prevail in the public mind. It is often asked, why are troops retained at stations which are notoriously unhealthy? Why are the British troops not all kept at the hill stations, where they enjoy a European climate all the year round? Now, the first use of having troops at all is unquestionably that they should be ready for action at the points where trouble is likely to arise; those points are the great cities where, in the East as in the West, the mauvais sujets of the empire are generally found congregated; and all our principal cantonments have been located with this view. It is true that the railways have done much to abridge distance in India, as elsewhere. But not to mention how easily a railroad is disarranged in time of war or revolt, the railway system must be extended at least five-fold before it could help us much on this point, while to allow revolt to rage unchecked, for even twenty-four hours, in such cities as Patna, Benares, or Lucknow, until troops could be brought by rail from the nearest hill station, would be a frantic proceeding.

But the fact is that it is very questionable whether a continued residence in the hills would be beneficial to the health of all English soldiers, while there is no doubt that the hill stations are not at all popular with the men themselves. Private Tommy Atkins is insensible to the poetry of mountain scenery; he dislikes the incessant rain from June to September; he hates being unable to take a walk without having to go up or down hill; and he misses the excitement of a large native city. There is no doubt, however, that, as occasional residences, the hill stations are most valuable, and the Government has shown its appreciation of this fact by the large expenditure now being incurred on the two new Himalayan stations of Chakrata and Raneekhet.

You will find plans of the most approved forms of barracks, as at present sanctioned, in Vol. II. of the Roorkee Civil Engineering Treatise. These buildings consist of a single main ward, with one verandah all round, and are to be double-storied as a rule; the upper story being used as a dormitory, the lower for day-rooms. Separate rooms are provided for the sergeants, and separate sets of quarters, of course, for the married men. In the plains, space is to be provided at the rate of 7½ running ft. (of wall), 90 superficial ft., and 1800 cubic ft., per man, the wards being 24 ft. high. These buildings are constructed of brick or stone, as the case may be; the roofs are iron girders with brick arches between for the verandahs, and iron trusses covered with a double layer of tiles for the main wards.

Several ranges of barracks on the Government standard plans have been erected at Allahabad, Saugor, Jullundur, Peshawur, and other stations; but it cannot be said that the results have been at all commensurate with the large cost incurred. The heat and glare are greatly complained of, and in more than one instance it is believed that a return to the old temporary thatched barracks was urged. Nor have the new barracks apparently proved more healthy than the old ones; cholera stuck so closely to them at Allahabad that for some months they were absolutely deserted, and it is understood that Peshawur is no better off. Of course, it is not meant to suggest that the new barracks engendered cholera, but merely that a site unhealthy in itself has not been made less so by the erection of large and expensive buildings.

In the station where I have been quartered for eight years, the barracks were little more than temporary sheds run up just after the Mutiny, and which have not been replaced by regular buildings because it is not thought necessary to retain troops there permanently. Yet in these crowded sheds, troops have been healthier than in any station in the country.

To understand the special difficulties attending the construction of Anglo-Indian dwellings, it is necessary to revert again to the characteristics of the climate of Northern India, in which by far the largest number of our troops are quartered. The seasons of Northern India (say from Benares up to Peshawur) are the cold, the hot, and the rainy season; or, more exactly, the cold, the dry-hot, and the moist-hot seasons. In November, December, January, and February, though the sun is always powerful, the temperature of the air is pleasant during the day, and not too hot for a long day’s cricketing or shooting on foot; the nights are really cold, and occasionally even frosty. A good deal of rain also falls in the Punjab generally about February, and fires are required in the house often all day long.

In March, the hot winds begin to blow; strong breezes from the west, often rising to gales, bring up clouds of dust, and the atmosphere has the temperature of a glass furnace; from 7 A.M. the wind blows often up to midnight, and the temperature of the outer air at night varies little from that of the day. I have often known it 100° at Lahore at midnight. This lasts till the middle of June, when thunderstorms usher in the south-west monsoon, or rainy season; rain falls in torrents, the air is saturated with moisture, and though the thermometer falls several degrees, the languid, moist heat is far more trying to the constitution than a higher temperature when the air is dry. The rains end in September; October is generally fine, the mornings and evenings are cool, and then follows the cold season already described.