Peshawur, March 13th, 1853.
I have certainly been very fortunate indeed, and only hope that I may be enabled to acquit myself of the trust well and honorably, both in the field and in the more political portion of my duties. It was a good thing that I had the opportunity of leading the regiment into action so soon after getting the command, and that the brunt of the whole should have fallen upon us, as it placed the older men and myself once more on our old footing of confidence in one another, and introduced me to the younger hands as their leader when they needed one. Susie says she told you all about it; I need therefore only add that it was the hardest piece of service, while it lasted, I have yet seen with the Guides, both as regards the actual fighting, the difficulties of the ground, (a rugged mountain, 7,000 feet high, and densely wooded,) and the exposure. You will see little or no mention of it publicly, it being the policy of Government to make everything appear as quiet as possible on this frontier, and to blazon the war on the eastern side of the empire (some 2,000 miles away) as much as they can. I am, as you justly imagined, to be employed both civilly and in a military capacity,—at least, it is under discussion. I was asked to take charge of the wild district of "Euzofzai," (forming a large portion of the Peshawur province,) where the Guides will ordinarily be stationed. I refused to do so unless I had the exclusive civil charge in all departments, magisterial, financial, and judicial, instead of in the former only, as proposed, and I fancy they will give in to my reasons. I shall then be military chief, and civil governor, too, as far as that part of the valley is concerned, and shall have enough on my hands, as you may suppose. In the mean time, I shall have the superintendence of the building of a fort to contain us all,—not such a fortress as Coblentz, or those on the Belgian frontier, but a mud structure, which answers all the purposes we require at a very, very small cost.
Peshawur, April 30th, 1853.
I am sorry to say my wife is ordered to the hills, and we shall again be separated for five or six months. My own destination for the hot season is uncertain, but I expect to be either here, or on the banks of the Indus.
Camp, near Peshawur, June 4th, 1853.
... I hope to get away from work and heat in August or September for a month, if all things remain quiet. But for this sad separation, there would be much charm for me in this gypsy life. To avoid the great heats of the next three months in tents, we are building huts for ourselves of thatch, and mine is assuming the dignity of mud walls. We are encamped on a lovely spot, on the banks of the swift and bright river, at the foot of the hills, on the watch for incursions or forays, and to guard the richly cultivated plain of the Peshawur valley from depredations from the hills. We are ready, of course, to boot and saddle at all hours; our rifles and carabines are loaded, and our swords keen and bright; and woe to the luckless chief who, trusting to his horses, descends upon the plain too near our pickets! Meanwhile, I am civil as well as military chief, and the natural taste of the Euzofzai Patháns for broken heads, murder, and violence, as well as their litigiousness about their lands, keeps me very hard at work from day to day. Perhaps the life may be more suited to a careless bachelor, than to a husband with such a wife as mine; but even still it has its charms for an active mind and body. A daybreak parade or inspection, a gallop across the plain to some outpost, a plunge in the river, and then an early breakfast, occupy your time until 9 a. m. Then come a couple of corpses whose owners (late) had their heads broken overnight, and consequent investigations and examinations; next a batch of villagers to say their crops are destroyed by a storm, and no rents forthcoming. Then a scream of woe from a plundered farm on the frontier, and next a grain-dealer, to say his camels have been carried off to the hills. "Is not this a dainty dish to set before—your brother." Then each of my nine hundred men considers me bound to listen to any amount of stories he may please to invent or remember of his own private griefs and troubles; and last, not least, there are four young gentlemen who have each his fancy, and who often give more trouble in transacting business than assistance in doing it. However, I have no right to complain, for I am about, yes, quite, the most fortunate man in the service; and have I not the right to call myself the happiest also, with such a wife and such a home?
Camp, near Peshawur, August 6th, 1853.