The cantonments are about three miles to the south of the town. They are divided into streets, which cross at right angles. The officers' bungalows are picturesquely situated in the midst of pretty gardens which combine the flora of the eastern and the western hemispheres; the barracks, both for the European and native regiments, are not particularly good; the magazines and stores are built of stone and have a very durable appearance.
But to the lover of nature, the great attraction is the distant range of the snow-capped Himalaya mountains. Neither pen nor pencil can describe their splendour amid the gorgeousness of an eastern sunset. Earth and sky are covered with a veil of liquid gold; the clouds, as they traverse the deep blue vault, gradually assume the most varied and brilliant tints, and the majestic Himalayas, girdled round their base with a robe of gold and crimson, rear their silvered crests in line relief against the bright effulgence that surrounds them. How different are the feelings inspired by gazing upon such a scene, and those aroused by the din of battle, the sight of slaughter and death which I had so recently witnessed!
"Aye, there they stand, as in creation's prime,
Above the mouldering wrecks of sin and time!
Man's fatal fall, which all beneath them cursed,
Hath left them standing as they stood at first:
Unchallenged, still they keep their place in heaven,
And wear the diadem their God hath given;
And change and death sweep on o'er sea and land,
And find, and leave them changeless: there they stand!"
On the 19th I journeyed to Misri-Wala, ten miles. On my arrival there, I rode over to Ferozeshah, which is only about a mile and a half off, as I was anxious to see the battle-field. It was a horrid sight. After an interval of three months it was still covered with the unburied bodies of the Sikhs, on whom hundreds of Pariah dogs and birds of prey were feasting; dead camels, horses, and bullocks also seemed to invite them to a plentiful repast. The odour was dreadful, even more so than on my former visit.
20th. Proceeded to Moodkee, ten miles and a half, and pitched my tent on the edge of the battle-field, close by the fort, which was then occupied by a company of the 51st regiment of Native Infantry. Three months had just elapsed since the battle, which was fought here on the 18th of December, the first of the four engagements between the army of the Sutlej and the Sikhs. Within that short period no less than 1,449 of our troops had fallen, and 4,926 had been wounded, many of whom have since died; while the destruction of the Sikhs is fearful to contemplate. In round numbers they are said to have lost about 20,000 men.
On the 21st I went to Bhaga Poorana, a distance of fifteen miles. On my route, I again met a train of 400 hackeries laden with stores for the troops at Lahore. Next day I marched to Wudnee. On my arrival, I examined the square brick-built fort; the battlements command a fine view of the surrounding country. The eye wandered over a vast extent, without hill or mountain to intercept its wide spread range. All nature seemed to be at peace, and the Sutlej, which had so lately been stained with the blood of the slain, now flowed down in a pure and silvery current, bearing along with it health and refreshment from its rise in the table land of Thibet, to its junction with the Indus at Mithunkote.
On the morning of the 23rd I made an early start, and was on the move at a quarter to three for Bussean, fifteen miles and a half distant: it lies midway between Lahore and Umritsur, and is about twenty miles from each place. On the 24th I rode to Phurewallee, fourteen miles. On the 25th to Kotla Mullair, ten miles. Here the Dewan, or steward, of the Rajah of Nabah called upon me for a certificate that I had been well treated on my way through his master's territories, a request with which I willingly complied.
On reaching Munsorepore, a distance of sixteen miles, on the next day, I found my tent pitched close to a mosque; yesterday it had been placed near a Hindoo temple—and I was sadly disturbed at sunset by some barbarous sounds on a horn, made by a Brahmin. On the 27th I started, at two o'clock A.M., for Samana, a distance of nineteen miles, which I was desirous to make that day. I was, however, no gainer by my early start, for my guide lost his track in the dark, and I was delayed more than half-an-hour before we found our way. The road, moreover, was exceedingly heavy, neither more nor less than a bed of sand, in consequence of which, part of my establishment did not come up till two o'clock P.M. The Thanadar[42] of Samana furnished me, at his own particular request, with four chokedars, or watchmen, for I had only asked for one.
On the 28th, I rode to Goelah, a distance of twelve miles, and forded the Guggur or Cuggur River, about half way on my journey. After passing the towns of Bunnoor, Seyfabad, Pattiala, Jowhana, and Jomalpore, the Guggur enters the country of the Bhatties at the town of Arwah, formerly the capital of the district.[43]