MILITARY SERVICE

AND

ADVENTURES IN THE FAR EAST:

INCLUDING

SKETCHES OF THE CAMPAIGNS

AGAINST THE AFGHANS IN 1839,

AND THE SIKHS IN 1845-6.

BY A CAVALRY OFFICER.

IN TWO VOLUMES.

VOL. I.

LONDON:
CHARLES OLLIER,
SOUTHAMPTON STREET, STRAND.
1847.

MAP
of the
Late Field of Operations
on the
SUTLEJ.

TO
SIR HENRY LUSHINGTON, BART.
I INSCRIBE THESE VOLUMES,
BY HIS PERMISSION,
AS A TRIBUTE OF AFFECTIONATE RESPECT.

I shall not venture, in accordance with modern usage, to compose an elaborate panegyric and exhaust the epithets of flattery in my Dedication.

Such an essay would be out of my power, and far beneath Sir Henry's acceptance.

The Author.

CONTENTS OF VOL. I.

MILITARY SERVICE

IN THE FAR EAST.

[CHAPTER I.]

ARRIVAL IN INDIA, AND MARCH TO THE NORTH-WESTERN PROVINCES.

Any one who has coasted the Andamans will bear witness to the beauty of those Islands, of which, at the time I visited them, marvellous tales were related. The predilection of the inhabitants of those realms for their white brethren, when shipwrecked on these shores, was said to have been evinced in a manner singularly contrasted to other philanthropists, for they actually devoured them. It has moreover been stated, that the biped islanders were not the only philanthropists dwelling in these alluring scenes, but that the woods swarmed with a variety of wild beasts, who were also epicures in human flesh. It is, indeed, wonderful that man, being so great a luxury, should continue to exist in such regions. Unfortunately, we were unable to put any reports to the test, not having set foot ashore.

The sun, which had been shining brilliantly all the morning over these green isles, became obscured in the afternoon, when a breeze springing up soon caused a musical ripple of the waters, and wafted us in four days to the Sandheads; where, receiving our pilot on board, we coasted the low sandy ridge of Saugar, and anchored off Kedgeree, there to await the steamer which was to tow us up the Hoogly to the capital.

No sooner was our anchor dropped, than the river suddenly swarmed with boats full of the wildest-looking savages, in a perfect state of nature, saving a dingy clout bound about their waists. The hair hung like horses' tails over the shoulders of some; others had gathered up and twisted the sable mass into a knot on the top of their heads, which led us into considerable doubt as to the gender of the individuals, this being the generally approved method of arranging the hair amongst the ladies of our northern climes. But we did injustice, in this instance, to the more gentle and better sex, who in this region are as superior in shape and feature to the males, as an English woman is to every other on the face of the earth! Nevertheless, these dusky anatomies possessed singularly Stentorian lungs, as we experienced when they came whooping and jabbering alongside.

Our worthy mate, being thoroughly versed in savage intercourse, loudly exclaimed, "Ho! you d—d Dinghee Wallahs! nickal jao there, will you? Quartermaster, hand up a bit of pork, heave it into that boat astern, and shove off those shoals at the gangway."

The sovereign remedy, a bit of pork, was carefully distributed among the boats, and relieved us of their presence; for when the savoury morsel alighted, they cast off, eyeing us with as much sorrowful disgust as the bit of unclean animal, which was taken up by one of the boatmen between two sticks, thrown overboard, and the polluted spot well scoured with the mud and water of the brown Hoogly.

In the afternoon, I went ashore, at Kedgeree, with a party of officers, to shoot. We wandered in various directions over the marshy rice fields, and through the low jungle, in quest of game: most of us loaded one barrel with small shot, and the other with ball, being uncertain as to the probability of meeting with a tiger or a snipe in those unknown regions; but fortune having conceded neither, we returned at nightfall to the appointed rendezvous for re-embarking, and found the ship's boats had returned on board: our two linguists had gone with them. As it was getting pitch dark, our prospects of a comfortable night's rest were becoming correspondingly gloomy. In these straits, we wandered along the banks to a village, where, endeavouring to make the natives aware of our wants by signs, they immediately brought us some fruits, making countersigns for money; that and food being pretty nearly the sum total of their worldly concernments. At this juncture, one of our party returned from a successful forage, having found a tent occupied by a European.

We hastened readily to the canvas abode, and our deliverer having treated us to a few tumblers of cold water, and explained our wishes to the natives, in a few minutes we each mounted our savage, and rode him over the mud and water to a canoe moored near the bank.

An hour's hard rowing, enlivened, at times, by the wild and discordant singing, or rather yelling, of our swarthy boatmen, brought us once more alongside the ship, anything but pleased with our first excursion on the shores of Hindostan.

I am persuaded that the phosphorescent appearance which we often observe on the ocean, must hold some invisible and fiery influence over the minds of those whose business for a time is on the great waters. To this cause I venture to attribute the strong matrimonial epidemic which broke out on board our trusty ship, many marriages being meditated, and some celebrated by certain of my fellow-passengers. The gaiety which ought to be consequent on weddings was not, at first, very perceptible; but this, I take it, was mainly attributable to the nautical stomach-pump, which took severe effect during the first fortnight, principally, (I lament to say,) on the fair sex. The operations of this fearful tormentor at length ceased. Had the immortal Lawrence Sterne but enjoyed the advantages of a voyage to India, what a mighty field would have been thrown open for the indulgence of his favourite reflections to the edification of his readers and advancement of natural philosophy. But he and his class have long passed from among us, and I must leave to such as deem themselves competent to the task, the elucidation of a theory, (holding doubtless the most absolute influence over the intricate human system,) a subject far too abstruse for this feeble pen.

Having spent two days at anchor off Kedgeree, on the third morning we joyfully descried a dark little steamer, which, though more resembling a demon than a saint, proved our deliverer from the shoals of the muddy Hoogly.

The slimy banks of the river, fringed at a short distance from the water with stunted jungle, gradually gave place to a more civilized appearance as we advanced up the stream; and on rounding Garden Reach, the view was eminently beautiful. The neat villas of the Calcutta merchants, now partially hidden amongst their gardens and shrubberies, and now bursting full upon the view—the river, with the ceaseless stir of business skimming across its waters, and the distant prospect of the city of palaces, flanked by a forest of bare and taper masts, presented altogether a picture of exciting interest, especially to one about to set foot for the first time in a new country, and, to him, almost a new world.

We came to anchor, on the third morning after quitting Kedgeree, under the walls of Fort William, and found H.M.'s third Dragoons encamped on the glacis. About four in the afternoon, the heat having considerably abated, we disembarked, and marched into the Fort, where quarters had been provided for our men, though none for the officers, as the brigade-major informed us, at the same time stating, that as a difference of opinion existed on that subject between himself and the fort-major, we must wait until he (of the Queen's) had craftily overcome him (of the Company's), and induced the latter individual to house us.

There is an old proverb about a man between two stools being likely to come to the ground, which was fully illustrated in our case, for, both of our supports for a night's rest in Fort William having given way, we came to the earth, though fortunately in the tents of the 3rd Dragoons, immediately under the walls of the fort, where our fall was kindly broken by cloaks spread on the ground to receive us.

I was composing myself to sleep as comfortably as circumstances would permit, when suddenly a volley of screams, as though proceeding from the lungs of ten thousand demons, caused me to start on my feet, supposing the camp to have been invaded by the infernal regions. My host, lying in the opposite recess of the tent, being a man of some days' experience, begged me not to disturb myself, as it was only the jackals. "Only the jackals!" but they are pretty nearly enough to murder sleep, I thought, as I laid myself down to await the cessation of their intolerable howls.

Silence at length ensued, and I was just falling asleep, when a low gurgling noise arose close to my ears, and continued with the most monotonous regularity: "Good Heaven!" I cried, after listening intently for a few minutes, "that must come from the diabolical bandicoots, of which I have often heard from old Indians." I drew my sword, and awaited their advance in a violent perspiration, for I have an insuperable abhorrence to the whole rat tribe; but they had no intention of coming to close quarters. No, their cursed pipes sounded the advance, unheeded by the main body. My enemies, nevertheless, seemed to be mustering; for the gurgle was taken up by a reinforcement from the opposite side of the tent, interrupted occasionally by a low, muttering sound:

"Jam jam efficaci do manus scientiæ.

"I submit; it is impossible to sleep through this interminable persecution, and a man's days in this climate must be necessarily short without rest!" Thus I exclaimed, as, jumping up, I threw my cloak aside, and paced the tent in a fever, saluted incessantly by the unearthly gurgle.

My friend lay on the opposite side, sleeping as calmly as if there were no such things in the world to torture us as jackals or bandicoots.

The morning was just breaking, and I stepped out of the tent, in hope of being taken for a ghost by the jackals, and thus retaliating by fright on a portion of my enemies—when, lo! the veil of mystery was withdrawn, and there sat two Hindoos smoking the pipe of the country, commonly known by the name of hubble-bubble, which noisy instrument I had mistaken all night for the bandicoots.

This was too absurd. I burst into a fit of laughter, which awakened my friend, who hastily joined me, when I related my grievance. Having silenced the smokers, I soon enjoyed the rest I had almost despaired of attaining.

The following day, having stated our houseless condition to Sir Willoughby Cotton, commanding the division, we were, by his order, allotted quarters in the Fort, where the bugs and mosquitoes were as unwelcome visitants as the jackals and hubble-bubbles of the preceding night.

Having procured some native servants, deposited our baggage in the barracks, and bought large cane bedsteads with mosquito curtains, we began to consider ourselves in clover, though our ignorance of Hindustani left us completely at the mercy of the natives, my sirdar (valet) being not of the most intelligent order. At night, when he had succeeded in clearing my bed of mosquitoes, and carefully arranged the curtains, I signed to him to take away the light. He immediately left the room, but took not the candle. "Sirdar!" He immediately re-entered. I telegraphed him with much energy, pointing to the candle and thence to the door. He shook his head and looked bewildered. This was not to be endured; I darted out of bed to extinguish the light; and a colony of mosquitoes, who had been awaiting this opportunity, immediately established themselves inside, and conversed with me during the night.

Notwithstanding our numerous tormentors, the season of the year at which we landed was the coolest and most salubrious of any—that is, the mornings were coldest, and the mid-day heat was also at its minimum; but even a December sun, at noon, was not to be encountered with impunity.

I sallied forth in one of those coffin-like conveyances termed palanquins, to visit the city, which is about a mile distant from the fort, and extends along the banks of the river. Enormous store-houses and merchants' offices skirt the river; but the interior of the city, and especially that portion adjacent to the plain around Fort William contains several fine public buildings and extensive private mansions. The streets and squares are wide and handsome; but the bazaars and the portion of the town tenanted by natives are wretchedly narrow and confined, and usually thronged nearly to suffocation; for the natives love to huddle together in contradistinction to the whites, who seem even on this broiling and dreary side of the world to preserve that cold and forbidding demeanour which distinguishes the English in particular from other nations of the globe.

I believe the case was materially different a few years ago; but we found cause to remark, during our fortnight's sojourn in Calcutta, that we had experienced less hospitality and more incivility than in any other city of the world, not excepting even New York. The then revolution in the social system of the East has been attributed to the recent establishment of hotels in the city, but this appears more of a subterfuge than a palliation. The absence of the governor-general and commander-in-chief, who were at that time in the upper provinces, had drained Calcutta of the best of its population, as we were informed and afterwards experienced; and we therefore saw the place under unfavourable circumstances.

After a comfortless delay of a fortnight, in this city of contrasted luxury and indigence, we gladly received the route to march for our destination in the north-western provinces.

Having provided ourselves with tents, and bullock hackeries for the conveyance of them and our baggage, we left Calcutta about sunrise on the 4th January, and marched along the banks of the river, through avenues of cocoa-nut and palm trees, to our first encampment, a distance of about ten miles.

Our party mustered nearly five hundred strong, and included detachments for all of her Majesty's regiments in the upper provinces. Both officers and privates were, almost to a man, commencing their first march in India, or, to use an Indian expression, "griffins;" and in consequence many forebodings had been uttered, in Calcutta, of depredations, blunders, and miseries we were to encounter: "mais il est plus facile d'être sage pour les autres, que de l'être pour soi-même," saith Rochefoucauld, and with truth, in the present instance, for we encountered few of the ills presaged by the Indian prophets, who had probably drawn their conclusions from sad experience.

The second morning we marched in the dark, and reached the river Hoogly about daylight. The transit occupied the greater portion of the day, having to unload the beasts of burden and convey the men and baggage in boats. The most interesting and novel sight to us was that of the huge elephants swimming across this broad and rapid river, with the mahout, or driver, standing or sitting on their necks. Immediately the elephant gets beyond his depth, his whole body and head disappear, and nothing is seen to mark his locale, save the head and shoulders of the mahout. The obedient monster performs the submarine passage with an occasional jerk of the head and trunk out of water, to take breath and see where he is going, although in the latter instance he is generally subservient to his driver.

Some accidents were nearly occurring from the elephants having been swept down by the current among the boats in which the troops were crossing, but the mahouts piloted their charges dexterously through the fleet, without a single collision.

After crossing the Hoogly, we marched, for the first few days, through a well cultivated country, but afterwards struck into a newly made road, lying amid thick low jungle, until we reached the Rajmahal hills, which in some places are thickly and prettily wooded, whilst the intervening plains and valleys diversify the scene with their irregular patches of Indian corn, sugar cane, and barley fields. The Rajmahal hills abound with bears, tigers, wild hog, and elephants; but all chance of sport in wild beast hunting was denied us; we had no shikar wallahs, or sporting elephants among our party; for in India it is quite as necessary—nay, more so—that the elephant should be a sporting character as the rider, for the uninitiated usually dread the sight of a wild beast, and at the critical moment of encounter the unhappy sportsman often finds himself involuntarily taking to an ignominious flight. It is impossible to beat the heavy coverts of this part of India, with a moderate chance of success, except on elephants. Our principal amusement during the whole march consisted in partridge and snipe shooting, and even these were exceedingly scarce in the neighbourhood of our camp; but this was on account of the distance we generally kept from the Ganges, the banks of which are well supplied with game. In fact, throughout India, game is rarely found anywhere save in the vicinity of rivers, theels, or inundated ground.

Our friends, the jackals, continued their nightly lamentations, varied occasionally by the deep bass of a bear, or hyæna's eccentric cry; but I heard of only one actual encounter between man and beast in the Rajmahals, which was between an infantry soldier and a bear, beside the stump of an old tree, which both approached, unconscious of each other's presence, to use as a seat. Having eyed one another with feelings of mutual aversion, they executed a chassée-croisée, and parted. When a bear is desirous of being on intimate terms with a man, he rears himself on his hind legs, and advances to embrace, but the cruel sportsman marks, with his keen eye, a white mark on the affectionate creature's breast, and repays the advance by a bullet sent through this vital spot—that is, if his hand be steady enough to execute the act of ingratitude.

On emerging from the hills, we marched over an almost uninterrupted plain, which preserves the same smooth features almost to the very foot of the Himalayahs.

After an uninteresting and monotonous march of four hundred miles, which occupied about six weeks, always halting on Sundays, the first military station we reached was the sacred city of Benares. Here we crossed the Ganges, above whose muddy waters we descried the minarets of the holy places towering in the cloudless sky, and, from their lofty relief, rendering more apparent the insignificance of the low mud and brick dwelling-places clustered around their bases.

The cantonments lie about four miles from the city, laid out with strict military precision: most of the officers' bungalows thatched with dry grass, standing in the midst of their square compounds, enclosed by a high mud wall.

Even the native soldiers are different looking beings from their unenlisted brethren, and stalk along with the conscious importance of improved condition.

The roads, which are made of concha,[1] are broad and excellent, and everything wears an air of starch discipline.

Near the cantonment lived a Madras rajah, who, having been deprived of his power and estates in that presidency, had been transplanted here and pensioned by government. With the customary adulation of the East, he readily licks the hands of his oppressors, apes English manners, and courts English society.

I accompanied a brother officer, who had been previously acquainted with him, to the rajah's mansion, which was a comfortable residence, without any attempt at magnificence. The room into which we were ushered was adorned with pictures representing the victories of Wellington, Nelson, and Napoleon. After keeping us some time waiting, his highness at length made his appearance. He was a tall, sallow-complexioned man, attired in a white frock coat, black silk handkerchief, brown silk pajamas,[2] and red morocco slippers. Supposing the principal means of entertaining Englishmen to be the satisfying of their appetites, he lost not a minute in introducing us to the supper-table, where he begged us to be seated, setting the example himself—at least, if his might be termed an example, for he perched himself most uncomfortably on the extreme edge of a large arm-chair, and with the assistance of its arms and his own, managed to preserve a very precarious equilibrium.

As it is very difficult for a person to feel at ease when he perceives that his companion is not, I hoped every instant to see him glide from the chair, and squat on the floor, in the position natural to his countrymen, but he did not, in this instance, gratify us or himself.

Supper being over, we adjourned to an inner room, where, to my surprise, we were presented to his wife and daughters. The former was about thirty years of age, glittering with jewels, and retaining visible proofs of having been a beauty in her day. Her eldest daughter, about thirteen years of age, (advanced womanhood in India,) was the most perfect dark beauty I have ever seen: her figure was slight, yet round and elegant—as are those of most Indian women of high caste; an invidious veil covered the greater portion of her glossy hair, but her clear olive complexion, and lustrous black eyes—too dazzling to be looked on with impunity—were a chef-d'œuvre of Nature. Never, till that night, did I bitterly repent my neglect of the Hindustani tongue.

The rajah told us that he fully intended to pass the evening of his days in England, where his beautiful daughter, with her ample dowry, will probably become the victim of some expert adventurer.

Having halted two days at Benares, we proceeded through as uninteresting a country as before, passing, occasionally, a mud town or village, with the usual appendages of a small grove of trees and a few square patches of cultivation round the wells, whilst two or three hundred natives, huddled together, and squatted like so many vultures on the walls and by the road-side, watched our onward progress, and chattered their rapid jargon.

Ten marches from Benares we again crossed the Ganges where it unites its polluting waters with those of the rocky and clear Jumna, and entered the cantonments of Allahabad. The fort commands a view of the two rivers as they flow onwards to their junction, immediately under its walls; but excepting these waters, the eye wanders over a continued parched and arid plain, save where a small grove of trees presents occasionally a relieving object.

The festival of the Mohurrem was about to take place as we quitted Allahabad. The scenes of riot and debauchery annually consequent on this as well as other festivals, have entailed a lasting disgrace on the government of India, which not only tolerates, but actually encourages them. Nor has it scrupled to convert the superstition of the deluded natives into a substantial accession to the revenues of the country. Those who may be affected with any scruples on this subject, possibly reconcile the matter to their conscience by the disbursement of a few rupees annually for the maintenance of a handful of missionaries to convert the people of India to Christianity; but it will require something more than the present feeble efforts to accomplish that object, and possibly a little more sincerity in the authors of such an endeavour. In these modern days of toleration, it will hardly answer to follow the policy of the Emperor Julian towards the early Christians, and apply it to the Mussulman or Hindoo—as, when the emperor says, "I show myself the true friend of the Galileans. Their admirable law has promised the kingdom of heaven to the poor, and they will advance with more diligence and virtue in the paths of salvation when they are relieved, by my assistance, from the load of temporal possessions."[3]

The dust on the road between Allahabad and Cawnpore passeth all understanding. The head of our column got along tolerably well, not sinking much above their knees in the impalpable soil; but the centre and rear staggered blindly onward, and not unfrequently downward, through the clouds raised by their predecessors, till they reached more substantial ground; others jostled against mud walls and trees, trod on their neighbour's toes, or, wandering from their comrades, groped their way out of the dense atmosphere, and only discovered the locality of the column by the glimpse of a few miller-like objects preceding the cloud.

Ten marches from Allahabad, over roads of the above description, and through a country which, being hid by a dusty screen, I seldom saw, and cannot therefore describe, brought us into the cantonments of Cawnpore, which appear to rise like a city in the desert. Not a tree was to be seen, and scarce a vestige of animal or vegetable life was presented to our view, as the morning broke upon us crossing the arid and almost trackless plain near Cawnpore. At length, when the sun arose, a dim line of conical objects was descried through the lurid atmosphere, and, at the same time, the roar of some half-dozen pieces of cannon, at practice on the plain, announced the vicinity of cantonments.

Here the men of the detachments were placed in barracks, and the officers' tents pitched in a compound, where the sun blazed fiercely enough to roast a live lobster in his shell, though, from our species of that animal, nothing was elicited beyond moisture and murmuring.

Three days having been passed in this eligible situation, I was despatched up the country with my own detachment and sundry others for regiments in the north-western provinces, an escort of a havildar[4] and twelve Sepoys having been provided to take charge of us, which trust they faithfully performed.

At this time, a dreadful famine was prevalent in the districts through which we passed, which was fearfully evidenced by the appalling sights we daily witnessed on the march. Living skeletons crowded round us in thousands, stretching forth their meagre hands and supplicating relief with countenances which beggared description. Scarcely a mile of ground was passed without seeing some wretched creature breathing his last by the road-side, or some, whose sufferings ended, were affording a scanty meal to the famished Pariah dogs. All caste and heathenish scruples were overcome by the craving for food, and the poor creatures tore each other in the avidity with which they scrambled for bones or offal thrown to them by the soldiers. The myriads which thronged our camp became a crying nuisance; and the dictates of humanity were so far repressed by the calls of duty and necessity, that I was compelled to encircle our small encampment with a chain of sentries to exclude them, and prevent their diseases from spreading amongst our own camp.

No permanent relief could be afforded by our people, and the bestowal of a morsel here and there was merely a protraction of suffering.

About fifty miles from Cawnpore, and on the banks of the former bed of the Ganges, are the ruins of Kanoge, formerly one of the principal cities of India, and by some supposed to have been the limit of Alexander the Great, in his Eastern campaign.[5]

Above the congregated heaps of mud and brick are seen the white domes of monuments and temples of later construction, like the ghosts of decayed Eastern grandeur peering out on the surrounding desolation. The vicinity of an ancient ruin incites most of us to a contemplative mood. We reflect on the scenes that have been enacted there when the building was tenanted, and its inmates were playing their part on the stage of life. It is true, that the events of those days we have wandered back upon, may not have been a whit more interesting than those at present before us; yet Time generally hallows the past with a certain veneration, especially when connected with associations of classical antiquity such as may be conjured up in Kanoge; and the faintest evidence may lead us to walk on the track of the mighty Macedonian, and think—

"Hic illius arma—
Hic currus fuit."

The atmosphere of Kanoge certainly conveys a sense of desolation surpassing that of any other ruinous city I have visited, and mutely explains its fallen condition unaided by native legends or speculative historians. I have read many discussions on the present and past state of this city; but none, I am convinced, could have visited it at a more impressive period than I did, when a dreadful famine was testifying itself in the faces and forms of the scanty, emaciated inhabitants.

Advancing up the country, we found during nearly every march a grove of trees sufficiently extensive to encamp under, which sheltered us considerably from the sun and dust, both of which were becoming seriously disagreeable, especially the latter, which rose daily about noon, with the wind setting in at that time, and lasted till sunset, when it dropped, leaving everything in the tent buried an inch deep in dust; and then came our ancient enemies the mosquitoes.

Three weeks marching carried us over two hundred miles of country, and to a town called Koorja, within sixty miles of Merut, where we experienced a severe typhoon, which, though of common occurrence in Upper India, was the first I had seen, and the most destructive that had been felt that season. It came on suddenly about four in the afternoon, having given us no notice of its approach, for the appearance all round had been hazy during the afternoon. In five seconds, we were enveloped in complete darkness, caused by clouds of sand and dust raised by the tempest, and whirled through the air. The howling of the storm was accompanied by almost incessant peals of thunder. As the typhoon increased in violence, the fiery appearance of the dust, from the continued gleaming of lightning, presented a singular effect. In the course of a quarter of an hour, two tents were levelled and torn to pieces, and my own quivered to such a degree, that, expecting to be carried away with it, I got clear of the impending wreck, and, groping my way out to leeward, came immediately in contact with a huge bullock. Any port in a storm, thought I, as I clung to the monster's horns for an anchorage. He, like an unfeeling brute, struggled hard to get rid of the burden; and the contest was at the fiercest, when, coming in contact with a hackery, to which he was attached, we both rolled on the ground together. "Taree machee!" screamed an unhappy gharuwan,[6] against whom we fell; but his invective was cut short by a kick in the stomach from my antagonist. Rejoiced to find a more passive assistant in the hackery-wheels, I let go the refractory bullock, and held on by the cart until the storm abated. This took place in a few minutes; when, creeping from my shelter, amid a deluge of rain, into a portion of the tent that fortunately remained standing, I lay in comparative comfort, listening to the retiring rattle of the thunder.

We then set about repairing the damages of the camp, and soon put it in condition to afford shelter for the night.

At daybreak, the whole country appeared one sheet of water, through which we marched; and, having lost our guide, soon afterwards lost our way. Having wandered some miles in search of a road, we came at length to a village, where, seizing upon an unwilling guide, we were by him conducted across country, or rather across water, to our destination.

The land assumed a more green and cheerful aspect for the last five marches into Merut, which we reached, without any further accidents, on the 10th of April.

As the hot winds, which are not agreeable "compagnons de voyage," were daily expected to set in, we congratulated ourselves on the conclusion of this long and weary march of nearly nine hundred miles, which was accomplished in ninety-six days.

Although the labours of the march were ended, I felt myself far from comfortable in my new quarters, for the greater part of my baggage was on the Ganges—some eight hundred miles off; I was not settled in any habitation; and lastly, I was among strangers: the two latter objections were soon overcome, but the former I found a serious inconvenience.

No life of which I can form an estimate, even that on board ship, can present fewer attractions than a residence, during the hot season, in India. In the upper provinces, about the end of April, the hot winds come rushing from the sandy deserts to the westward, bearing on their fiery wings columns of burning dust, which penetrate to every room in the house, and replenish the eyes, ears, and mouth of the sufferer who ventures to face them faster than he can dispose of the nuisance. A framework of bamboos, covered with long roots of grass termed cuscus, is placed against the windows and doors to the westward, which are continually watered outside by a native, at the expense of keeping up his attention by an occasional "halloo." About sunset, the wind usually drops, and the air remains impregnated with particles of fiery red dust; and as that is the time for coming out of the heated dwelling to swallow the hotter air outside, we may as well change the subject, for it is not likely to prove interesting or agreeable.

Towards the end of June, these messengers of the desert cease to arrive; a calm interval (but rather a restless calm) succeeds, which is shortly broken, if the season be favourable, by the approach of heavy columns of clouds from the east, which burst over the thirsty plains of India like angels' visits. The sensation of renovated existence conveyed by this first fall of rain both to animal and vegetable may be imagined even by those who have witnessed the rare effect of a short summer's drought in rainy England.

From the descriptions I had heard of our present quarters, I imagined Merut to be a most picturesque little elysium; but those accounts were generally spitefully uttered by discontented Indians, during a summer's drizzle or a London fog. The stern reality varied little from the character of other cantonments which I had visited during my march up the country, either in point of climate or scenery. The barracks are oblong, single-storied buildings, dressed with mathematical precision, (and conveying from a distance the idea of so many petrified columns of troops,) flanked with equally precise roads.

In rear of the men's barracks are arranged, in similar order, the officers' bungalows, each enclosed in a small square compound, the condition of which depends of course on the pursuits or taste of the owner.

The massive bungalow to the right of the line, is flanked by high mud walls, to which are appended dog-kennels on one side and extensive stables on the other. More care and attention have evidently been bestowed on this than on the dwelling-house. The available land, embellished by a patch of oats and a parterre of half-demolished lucerne, proclaims the owner an amateur of the turf and field.

The small, but neater-looking building at the further extremity of the line, situated in the midst of a garden, fragrant with many a variety of flower and carefully-pruned shrub, tell, beyond a doubt, that some benign influence has dispensed these blessings on the soil, whilst the house contains the gem itself:

"In the cup of life,
That honey drop—the virtuous wife."

Gardens overgrown with weeds, dilapidated walls and gates, testify the indolence or indifference of other owners; and yonder drowsy-looking building, with most of its shutters closed, and the verandah piled with six dozen chests, beside which are reclining, in good-humoured repose, a numerous and motley group of marines, who have travelled from the generous vineyards of France and Germany to perform their last duty on the burning soil of Hindostan,—all these afford too strong evidence to require explanation.

The heat of the weather during June, this year, certainly exceeded anything I had ever anticipated, and its continuance day and night became deeply oppressive to the spirits of the uninitiated. About the middle of the month, we had a smart shock of an earthquake, which was felt from Calcutta to the Himalayah mountains, although it caused little injury. The sensation was of a most singular and disagreeable nature, the roof of the house assuming a menacing attitude, and appearing to rock to and fro; but giddiness prevented me from being over particular in taking observations. A small cistern of water becoming violently agitated and overflowing its sides, was illustrative of what happened after the shock was over.

We were, at length, relieved from the violent and sickening heat, by a strong easterly breeze, bringing a mass of threatening clouds, which burst like a water-spout over the plains. In twenty-four hours, the cantonments and surrounding country were flooded, and the before arid plains now presented the appearance of an extensive lake. When the rains cease, and the clouds, rolling away, give place to the sun to look upon the waters, his influence soon dries a large portion of the soil, and the vapours which rise from the earth produce a damp heat, less endurable than the preceding dryness, and much more insalubrious.

After this change in the weather, I paid a visit to the Himalayah mountains, which lie about a hundred and ten miles north of Merut, and presented a most tantalizing sight during the hot season, rearing their snow-capped peaks at apparently so short a distance from the scorched and glistening plains of our present quarters.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Concha is a species of siliceous clay, lying in strata at a depth of from three to four feet beneath the surface of the whole alluvial plain of the Ganges.

[2] Pajamas are loose trousers.

[3] Julian, Ep. xliii. Gibbon, ii. 48.

[4] A havildar is the serjeant of a native regiment.

[5] Kanoge was built about 1000 years B.C., and was said to exceed 100 miles in circumference; it was besieged by Mahmoud of Ghuzni, and surrendered about A.D. 1020.—(R. Dow's Works.)

[6] Gharuwan—a bullock-driver.

[CHAPTER II.]

VISIT TO THE HIMALAYAH MOUNTAINS.

Our party, consisting of three officers of my regiment and myself, started on the evening of the 1st of August, and having halted during the heat of the next day at a house on the road, erected for the convenience of travellers by government, we reached the foot of the hills at daybreak on the 3rd instant.

We remained at a small inn recently established there, awaiting an interval in the torrents of rain which were descending, before we commenced our ascent. After the greater part of the day had passed without the occurrence of this lucid interval, I started with one of our party to mount the precipitous hills which towered above us, enveloped in mist. We procured two sturdy little mountain-ponies, that despised our weight, and, dashing through the torrents of rain, breasted the rough acclivity. The mountains from Rajpore rise abruptly in a constant succession of sharp and lofty peaks, whose sides from beneath appear nearly perpendicular. The roads, which are about two yards in breadth, are cut round the sides of the mountains, and winding by a gradual ascent round some, conduct you slowly upwards; on others, the circuit being impeded, or too extensive for the former system, a zig-zag road is made, to bring you more rapidly, though much more laboriously, to their brow, whence a ridge frequently stretches across to the adjacent mountains.

The spirited little hill-ponies carried us fearlessly across these narrow passes, on each side of which a yawning abyss frequently descends, till lost to sight amid the gloomy shade of the rocks and shrubs projecting from its sides; whilst the mountain torrents, roaring above and beneath, and frequently dashing, in their impetuous course, across the path you are pursuing, present a wild and magnificent sight.

Night had far advanced, and our ponies began to exhibit unequivocal symptoms of weariness from their severe toil, when we arrived at the hotel, then standing at Mussouri, for the reception of travellers. Here we soon divested ourselves of our well-soaked garments, and enjoyed the unusual Eastern luxury of a blazing fire.

Next morning, the weather having cleared up, I sallied forth to enjoy the varied and beautiful scenery, and scrambled to the summit of Landour, which stands about 7000 feet above the level of the sea. On the front, towered the Tyne range, about 10,000 feet in height; and far beyond these, Jumnootri and Gungootri, whence flow the sources of the Jumna and Ganges, are visible, their summits glittering with everlasting snow, from an elevation of 24,000 feet. On the right of this barrier of eternal snow, was dimly visible the peak of Dwalagiri, whose hoary heights, though untrodden by the foot of mortal man, have been measured by his ingenuity, and pronounced to be the loftiest in the world.[7]

Dazzled with the resplendent and gorgeous scene, whose reflection from the morning sun became too much for the eye to endure, I turned to look down on the beautiful and fertile valley of the Doune, which lay stretched beneath, and through which the Ganges, extricating itself from the mountains, rushed, in its turbid and meandering course, into the plains; whilst on the other side of the same fairy valley, the clear and stately Jumma flowed majestically onwards, to unite its crystal waters with its sister river at Allahabad.

The scenery here is excessively striking to the traveller, on account of the miserably barren and uninteresting flats he must traverse ere reaching these mountains, which nature appears to have raised to a stupendous elevation, in atonement for her negligence to other parts of Hindostan. The mild climate of these regions has rendered them a favourite resort, during the summer months, for the families of those eking out their eastern servitude; and many neat villas, partaking more of the character of European than of Asiatic architecture, ornament the sides and summits of Landour and Mussouri. The woods, which cover with great luxuriance the lower ranges of hills, from the base to the summit, constitute the principal beauty of the mountains. The trees most abundant near Landour are the oak and rhododendron; the latter grows to a large size, and produces a rich crimson flower, far exceeding in size and brilliancy of colour the shrub producing that blossom in England; and in the spring so great is its abundance, that it appears to cast a ruddy hue on the sides of the mountains. In the interior of the mountains, I have seen, growing wild, almost every kind of fruit tree[8] met with in Europe. Here is also a very beautiful and gigantic fir growing in the higher altitudes, termed the deodar, which is peculiar, I believe, to the Himalayahs, and much valued for its durable properties when used in building.

The rains continued to fall with untiring assiduity until the latter part of September.

Early in October, I set out with a party of friends on a tour in the interior. We were each provided with a small tent holding a bed and table, which, in addition to our guns and a few bottles of wine and spirits, were all we could take with us; for so rugged and precipitous are the paths, that everything belonging to travellers in these mountains must be carried by the Paharries, (natives of the mountains,) who scramble up the steepest precipices with considerable loads strapped on their backs. There is generally much difficulty in procuring a quantum sufficit of these useful animals. The natives of the plains have a great aversion to the climate of the mountains, which usually disagrees with them, and cannot be made of much use in a journey in the interior. The Paharries, indeed, have a similar feeling towards the plains, and can seldom be prevailed on to remain any length of time in the lower regions.

From Landour we descended amongst the thick brushwood, and long tangled grass which clad the mountain sides until we reached the bottom of a kudd, or valley, not far above the level of the plains, through which foamed an impetuous mountain torrent. We had some difficulty in fording this stream, on account of its rapidity and the quantity of large moveable stones in its bed. Being surrounded by precipitous mountains, which completely intercepted every current of air, the heat in this valley was exceedingly oppressive. The vegetation around us was most luxuriant, and it was with considerable toil we forced our way through the wilderness of shrubs, interwoven with long matted grass.

We now commenced the abrupt ascent of the Tyne mountains, along a narrow Paharrie track, where the footing was extremely precarious, and a false step would have consigned the perpetrator to the tender mercies of the sharp pointed rocks several hundred feet beneath. About nightfall it became very difficult to distinguish the track, but our ponies, who scrambled along without any accidents behind us, seeming to make light of the matter, we mounted and trusted to their sagacity.

I had cause, ere long, to repent this misplaced confidence, for, on turning a sharp angle of rock, I was interrupted during an energetic argument with my successor by a most appalling stumble, and, in an instant, disappeared with my faithless quadruped, from the eyes of my astonished brother disputant.

A few feet under the ledge of rock grew a kind hearted shrub, (better deserving of immortality than the tree of murderous intentions upon Horace,) which I embraced and clung to with affectionate eagerness. My poor pony fared otherwise, and by the crashing amongst the stones and shrubs underneath, I had cause to conjecture he was suffering bitter punishment for his error: far from it, the fall had soon been converted into a roll, on the fortunately gradual slope of this especial spot, and we found him busily engaged with the thick grass which had preserved, and was now nourishing, the little viper.

The moon now made her appearance, and we reached a platform of land where fields of wheat and barley announced the vicinity of a village, whose mud huts we descried on the side of a steep ravine; above which towered a noble grove of the picturesque and lofty deodar. Under these we pitched our tents, and soon became unconscious alike of time and place.

Rising at daybreak, we recommenced the toilsome ascent, and, shortly after noon, reached the summit, whence was beheld an apparently endless range of mountain upon mountain, the nearest bristling with forests, the furthest hoary with snow. The description would be but a continual recurrence to the same imagery, so much does, nature resemble herself in the drapery which she has spread on these wild regions.

Next morning, we commenced our preparations for the chase, and having each taken up a position, our dogs and Paharries entered the heavy cover, each giving tongue as the game started. The ear was now awake with intense expectation; the before-predominating silence was broken by echoed sounds.

The whirr of the gaudy pheasant as he sprang upwards from the covert, was succeeded by the roar of the murderous fowling-piece ringing his death-knell among his native hills; and the sharp crack of the rifle followed the track of the deer, as he dashed from the woods, and bounded wildly down the rocky precipices.

I had remained perched on my rock, contemplating the scene for a considerable time without being called upon to use my weapons, when suddenly a noble tehr[9] stood before me, his long dun hair hanging in ringlets over his body, and his head erect, listening to the cries of the beaters, now growing faint in the distance. I hastily snatched up my rifle, (as I thought,) and taking a steady aim at his shoulder, fired. Though barely forty yards from me, to my utter surprise, he dashed away unharmed, and in two minutes I saw him bounding at full speed along the ridge of a hill nearly a mile off. Turning away in silent disgust, I felt almost inclined to vent my anger on the rifle, but discovered that, in the haste of the moment, in lieu of the rifle I had snatched up a fowling-piece loaded with shot. Having lost an opportunity such as is rarely met with in tehr shooting, for they rank among the wildest of mountain game, I descended the hill in search of my companions, but they were far away, and I contented myself with the pursuit of small game.

At nightfall, our party straggled into camp, having all had but poor sport, which was a trifling consolation to me.

The game in these mountains, though of great variety, are exceedingly difficult to come at, owing to the heavy coverts which shelter them, and it is by no means singular for the best sportsmen to return empty handed. During my residence in the Himalayahs, I have frequently wandered the greater part of the day without meeting with a head of game—at other times, by being on the spot by daybreak, I have succeeded in bringing down two or three chamois before sunrise. It is requisite to approach them with great caution, and always from above; if the first ball be unsuccessful, the deer will sometimes wheel suddenly round, and stop from full speed to ascertain the reason of the interruption.

The gooral (or, more intelligibly speaking, the chamois) affords the best sport of all the mountain tribe. He is to be found early in the morning, feeding among the long grass, generally on the side of the steepest mountains, and must be carefully stalked, for his senses are of a refined order. When wounded, he often leads his destroyer a chase of many a weary mile down the steepest kudds, and over sharp pointed rocks, where the trail must be followed by the signs of the mountain dew brushed from the surface of the grass, or the rocks stained by the ebbing blood of the stricken animal. The sagacity of the Paharries in following this trail, and the sharpness of their sight, are very remarkable, in contradistinction to their neighbours of the plains; but the fact is easily accounted for, from their having exercised these faculties in the chase from childhood amongst the same scenes, as they very seldom quit their native mountains. I have often seen a Paharrie detect, at the first glance, over a mountain, a gooral feeding on the further side, at a distance which took some landmark given me by my companion to ascertain the spot, and I have hardly ever known them to err. They are a hardy, active and courageous race, who, having been a most formidable foe to the British in the earlier periods of Indian warfare, have, now that they have enlisted under the banners of the Company, proved the bravest and best of the native army.

Many kinds of deer are to be found amongst the mountains, and an endless variety of the feathered tribe, amongst which the most remarkable are the distinct species of pheasants which haunt the mountains, the species varying with the altitude; but this subject is rather too plentiful a theme for the present narrative, and must be left to competent ornithologists.

The Jerrow, or maha, is the noblest specimen of the stag to be met with, and may be ranked as the elk of the Himalayah. He stands from four to five feet in height; his colour is a rich brown, and his antlers, branching into six on each side, have obtained for him the name of bara singh[10] in the plains. During the day time, they usually lie in the heaviest jungle; but at morning and evening they may be seen grazing in the rich pastures, and usually in pairs. The Jerrow, as he stalks majestically through the woods, bearing proudly aloft his high branching antlers, looks the undisputed monarch of the mountain forests.

The next in size to the Jerrow is a deer about three and a half feet in height at full growth, and termed the Surrow. He is of a dark hue, with short deflected horns, thickly built, and with coarse bristling hair, much like the wild hog. His head and shoulders resemble a donkey ornamented with a horse's mane and a goat's horns. This scarce and singular beast has a spirit in proportion to his deformity.

His habitation is among the gloomiest rocks and caverns, and when roused from his solitude he prepares readily for the conflict, and charges with desperate ferocity.

I remember an encounter between a brother-officer and sportsman, in the hills, and a surrow, which he had wounded, which nearly proved serious to the gallant and athletic soldier. M... threw himself upon the wounded animal, when he charged, and seized him in his iron grasp, so as to pinion the surrow and prevent his making use of his deadly antlers. The struggle continued a long time; the deer ultimately succeeded in getting his head free, and immediately struck savagely backwards with his horns, when M... narrowly escaped the fatal stroke, and casting himself sideways, grasped the surrow's neck with one arm, so that he could not use his horns with effect, while with the other he succeeded in drawing a clasp-knife, which put an end to the contest.

Besides the animals above mentioned, the Himalayahs can show to the persevering sportsman the small kaukur, or barking deer, the musk-deer, the hog deer, and in the snowy regions, the ibex, and burral, or wild sheep. The tiger and leopard frequent the deepest valleys of the lower ranges, and, late in the autumn, the bear-shooting of these mountains will rank with any sport that is to be met with in India.

I was preparing for the journey towards the sources of the Ganges, when a most unwelcome visitor, in the shape of a fever, summoned me homewards. It was in vain to struggle any longer with my obstinate antagonist, so I yielded to the advice of my fellow-travellers, and turned my back for ever on these wild and glorious mountains. The floor-cloth of my tent was taken up, and the two corners bound together by ropes which also attached it to the tent pole. In this primitive conveyance I was borne by eight Paharries homewards to Landour.

The jolting I underwent, and the stumps of trees that left their numerous prints on my back, brought me in a few hours into a state bordering on delirium. On descending the last valley before reaching Landour, a severer thump than usual caused me to start up, and bless my tormentors; the pole of the litter snapped, and away I rolled, with my dusky companions, towards the lower regions. The circular motion soon made me so giddy, that I might have rolled unconsciously into the next world, but my guardian angel interposed a little copse of bamboos between me and it. When I had recovered the senses remaining to me, and peered out of the copse to ascertain the locale of my fellow rollers, it was with feelings of mortification I counted and found all present and sound except one, who had luckily broken his nose.

Two hours after this event, I found myself in bed, contemplating the surgeon, as he tried the point of his lancet, with the feelings which a pig evidently possesses and betrays on perceiving the butcher sharpening his knife, preparatory to the final gash.

The fever was not unto death, as the reader (if there be such a person) will doubtless have concluded by the continuance of my narrative, and therefore as I cannot hope to excite much sympathy for my sufferings, or doubt as to the result, I had better recover at once, especially as that will occupy but a few words in the present instance, though it took me five weeks at that time.

I had scarcely recovered my strength after this attack, when news of a most warlike character arrived from the lower regions, inducing me to start immediately to rejoin my regiment, which it was rumoured was about to proceed immediately on active service. I reached Merut after two days' journey, and found all minds intent upon the approaching campaign in Scinde and Affghanistan.

I had not been many days in cantonments, before conjecture was changed to certainty, by the arrival of despatches from head-quarters, ordering my regiment to form part of the army destined to assemble at Ferozepore on the Sutlej, about the latter end of November.

All now was bustle and business in our previously quiet cantonment. The furnace in the armourer's forge glowed with as much assiduity, and more brilliancy, doubtless, than that of yore at the shrine of the incomprehensible Vesta. On every side were heard the clicking of carbine and pistol locks; swords and lance-points sent sparkles of fire from countless grindstones, and above all other sounds rose the tumultuous din of the anvils.

FOOTNOTES:

[7] The peak of Dwalagiri exceeds 27,000 feet.

[8] I hear that botanists deny the unity of the genus.

[9] The tehr is a mountain goat.

[10] Bara singh—twelve horns.

[CHAPTER III.]

MATTERS RELATING TO THE AFGHANS—MARCH THROUGH DELHI TO FEROZEPORE—RUNJEET'S INTERVIEW—MARCH TOWARDS BUHAWULPORE.

The circumstances on the north-western frontier, and beyond it, which caused these warlike preparations, were nearly as follow:—

The fortress of Herat, which formed the frontier bulwark of the kingdom of Caubul, but which was now in possession of Prince Kamran, (son of Mahmood, a deposed monarch of Afghanistan,) had been for some time invested by a large Persian force, instigated, it was imagined, by Russian influence. As this fortress opens a free ingress to the countries on our north-western frontier, the government of India felt particularly sensitive on its account, and suddenly commiserating its forlorn condition, seized the present opportunity and pretext for advancing to its relief.

Shah Soojah Ool Moolk, having been deposed from the throne of Caubul, after the battle of Neemla, in 1809, had for many years been residing at Loodianah as a pensioner of the East India Company. At this juncture, the government of India, pitying the kingdomless state of that able monarch, resolved to reseat him on the throne, and thereby, and, in the accomplishment of that purpose, to further the following objects.

1st. The relief of the besieged fortress of Herat.

2ndly. The establishment of British supremacy and a military force in Afghanistan, as an outwork to obstruct any encroachments.

3rdly. The secure establishment of that long-meditated project, the navigation of the river Indus: the savage nations bordering thereon, with the exception of the Sikhs, having had but little intercourse with the British until Sir Alexander Burnes' memorable visit.

The throne of Caubul was at this time usurped by Dost Mahomed, brother of the late enterprising vizier, Futteh Khan, whose courage and abilities alone had retained the kingdom in the hands of the descendants of Ahmed Shah; until after the dethronement of Soojah, and murder of Mahmood, he transmitted it into more capable authority, the royal line having become equally obnoxious from imbecility, cowardice, and tyranny.

Numerous factions, opposed to Dost Mahomed, still existed in Afghanistan, amongst the leaders of which, the most powerful were, Prince Kamran, the independent chief of Herat, and Dost Mahomed's own brothers, the Ameers of Candahar. There also existed considerable animosity between the members of rival families and tribes in Afghanistan, similar to those feuds which divided the clans of the Highlands even in the recent periods of Scottish history.

Sir Alexander Burnes had been resident for some time at the court of Dost Mahomed, but that monarch had latterly exhibited a decided Philo-Russian propensity, although, in the language of the East, he continued to profess himself the slave of the British: Burnes distrusted the royal sincerity, and had been recalled.

The fortress of Herat had been reduced to so weak a state, that apprehensions were daily entertained of its falling[11] a prey to the Persians, when an emissary from the British arrived with an offer of relief, which was joyfully accepted, and the defence of the city was carried on with renewed vigour, under the superintendence of Lieut. Pottinger, an officer of the East India Company's Engineers.

The Candahar chiefs, though suspected of being in communication with Persia, observed a strict neutrality in the present aspect of affairs.

Regarding the countries bordering on the Indus, no doubt was entertained of a ready compliance with the proposals of government, when accompanied by an argument of 20,000 well-disciplined troops.

The Punjaub, lying between the British frontier and Afghanistan, was at that time subject to the renowned Maharajah Runjeet Singh, between whom and the British power a well-observed alliance had existed for many years; but an insuperable religious hostility divided the Sikhs from the Afghans. Shah Soojah himself had experienced scanty clemency, when flying from his country through the Punjaub, after his defeat at Neemla, for he was seized by the old Lion of the Sikhs, thrown into prison, and robbed of every article he possessed, among which was the celebrated Koh-i-noor,[12] one of the most valuable jewels in existence. Shah Soojah having escaped from, or been let out of prison, as useless lumber, found a permanent refuge in the British territories.

A meeting was arranged to take place at Ferozepore between Runjeet Singh and the governor-general of India (Lord Auckland), at which the movements of the former, in co-operation with the British forces, were to be arranged.

Matters stood on the footing thus briefly described, when a portion of the Bengal army were ordered to assemble at Ferozepore, about the end of November, 1838; and, at the same time, a force from Bombay was directed to sail to the mouth of the Indus, and march along the banks of that river, meeting the Bengal army in the neighbourhood of Shikarpore.

At the latter end of October, the regiment to which I belonged marched out of cantonments, and encamped on the turf where many a spirited field day had been enacted during the previous season. On the following day our tents were all struck at the dawn of morning, and the regiment marched about eight miles towards Delhi.

The fourth morning after leaving Meerut, we crossed the Jumna on a bridge of boats, and entered Delhi, the far-famed residence of the Mogul emperors; formerly a city conspicuous for wealth and luxury, now equally so for the impudent demeanour of its inhabitants, the manufacture of shawls, and an intolerable abundance of flies.

Delhi still contains many substantial native residences, a vast extent of ruins in its suburbs, a few old tombs and mosques, the royal palace, and a thickly-peopled bazaar.

A high flight of steps at the end of one of the principal bazaars, leads to the mosque built by Shah Jehan, some two hundred years since. Passing under a narrow archway at the head of the steps, you enter a large square court, paved with stone. At the eastern side stands the high-domed praying-place, and each angle of the square is garnished with a lofty minaret, all built of red sandstone.

The court is edged with a low range of cloisters, over which is a battlemented terrace, commanding an extensive view of the city and suburbs.

In the distance is seen the celebrated Koutub—a monument erected by an emperor of that name. This pillar is elegantly and elaborately carved, stands about two hundred and fifty feet in height, and is ascended by a spiral staircase.[13]

The original intention of the architect is unknown; the hieroglyphics supposed to convey important intelligence being a mystery; but it is conjectured that it must have been intended as a minaret for a projected mosque, which was never completed. Near the Koutub is a curious iron pillar, the intention of which is as much hidden in obscurity as that of the elegant minar. It appears to have irritated the destructive organ of Nadir Shah, who vainly endeavoured to dig it up, and failing in the experiment, brought his largest cannon to bear on the obnoxious pillar, which bears the impression of the ball, but stands as firmly as ever. We were informed that the mystery had recently been penetrated by a Brahmin sage, who had discovered that it was the axis of the earth: the principal objection to this ingenious theory perhaps consists in the latitude of this immovable pole.

In the palace of the city still dwells the nominal King of Delhi, the fallen representative of the Mogul empire, now unable to command his own movements—that is, if they should be directed to an escape from the courteous but actual thraldom he undergoes. The palace is surrounded by lofty battlemented walls of red granite, and a deep moat. Passing through the ponderous gateway, you enter a large square court, whence another archway leads into a second court, of still greater dimensions, at the extremity of which stands the audience hall, built on eight massive pillars of alabaster. In the centre of this hall stands a throne of pure crystal, on which, our native guide informed us, had sat many a mighty emperor. "See, then, a mightier than the present king of the Mogul empire sit on that throne," exclaimed one of our officers, bringing himself to an anchor on the tempting seat. The amazed guide turned up his eyes in pious horror, expecting the apparition of some monarch of that mighty line to avenge this invasion of his royal seat of honour; but they seemed disposed to put up with the affront, or perhaps to acquiesce in the observation, and remained quiet in their graves.

From hence we passed into the palace gardens, on the Jumna's banks, which were once the admiration of all beholders, but now much neglected. Here I observed, under an alcove, a sickly-looking lad, who proved to be the king's eldest son, and heir-apparent, amusing himself with lighting crackers, and pelting them at his attendants, or thrusting them in the faces of those he could reach—a pretty fair emblem of what the petty tyrant might become were time and opportunity afforded him. Yet, even in modern times, have men raised an incubus of this class to oppress and torture themselves, and, bending meekly to the royal idol, earned and deserved the infliction. The recent history of India, not a century ago, teems with instances which cast far in the shade the comparatively feeble efforts of Domitian or Commodus.

The cholera was raging to an awful extent whilst we were encamped outside the walls of Delhi, and upwards of two hundred were daily falling victims. Though we felt not the scourge at once, the column had not proceeded many marches before the seeds of the disease, probably brought from hence, and lurking among us, burst and spread devastation around.

The experimental camel-battery, in charge of Major Pew, joined our brigade, which had been formed at Delhi, and accompanied us to Ferozepore.

On the 4th of November we quitted Delhi, and marched through an uninteresting country, over-spread with low jungle and marsh, save where a small village, perched on an eminence, enlivened the view by the cultivation in its neighbourhood. A chain of pickets was now posted daily, and an officer sent about twenty miles in advance to explore and report on the country to our brigadier.

The cholera, that scourge of the east, now made its appearance amongst us, carrying off three of our men the first day, and sending numbers into hospital, but singularly enough not another fell a victim to the disease, which confined itself to the natives and committed dire havoc amongst them. Numbers died on the line of march daily, and the camp and hospital were literally strewn with dead bodies.

No sooner had the pestilence stricken them than they succumbed to fate without using an effort to obtain relief, and died often without a struggle in less than an hour after their seizure.

Grass-cutters, coolies, and the lower castes, were the principal victims, and few were the officers in camp who had not to lament the loss of some servants carried off during the four days the epidemic resided with us.

The causes assigned, by the medical men, for the outbreak of cholera, were the unripe grain used by the natives as food, and the rank vegetation springing around us; for we were passing still through jungle, interwoven with long coarse grass. However, this continued the same the whole way to Ferozepore nearly, and the scourge remained but four days upon us, which does not tend to strengthen the above mentioned reason. I know not why we should attempt to assign causes for the prevalence of cholera, whilst those of many other diseases are unheeded.

One learned practitioner (a Dr. Tytler) has written a book to prove that the malady is caused by the prevalent use of rice amongst the natives of India, and proposes calling the cholera the "Morbus Oryzeus." No doubt the change of name was in order to show the choleric imp how well we knew him, and to warn him off.

But, however applicable the theory might seem to India, the learned doctor must find some other reason for its European visit, where rice is certainly not the principal food of the inhabitants. To those acquiescing in the Tytler theory, I can only recommend, in the words of Horace,

"Spectatum admissi risum teneatis amici."

On the 28th of November we reached Ferozepore, the general rendezvous for the Bengal force, and found the army encamped about four miles from the left bank of the Sutlej.

Lord Auckland and Sir Henry Fane had also arrived, to meet Runjeet Singh, who was encamped, with a force of 20,000 troops, on the opposite bank, and had thrown a bridge of boats across the river. The Sutlej was then about two hundred and fifty yards in breadth, rolling sluggishly over its muddy bed, and through a country where little was to be seen but long dry grass and low jhow jungle.

The town was undergoing considerable improvements, under the hands of our engineers. The fort, too, was re-echoing to the mason's and carpenter's weapons, and most of the narrow streets in the suburbs were being levelled, to make way for a wide and massive bazaar, so that, from a mean and dirty place, Ferozepore bids fair to become, ere long, a large and flourishing town.

The army, daily arriving, were encamped north-west of Ferozepore, between it and the Sutlej, and consisted of—

The Cavalry Brigade, commanded by Colonel Arnold, comprising Her Majesty's 16th Lancers, 2nd and 3rd Native Cavalry, and one troop Horse Artillery.

1st Infantry Brigade, commanded by Colonel Sale: of Her Majesty's 13th Light Infantry, two regiments Native Infantry, and the Camel Battery.

2nd Infantry Brigade, Colonel Dennis: Her Majesty's 3rd Buffs, two regiments Native Infantry, Sappers.

3rd Infantry Brigade, Colonel Roberts: Company's European regiment, two regiments Native Infantry, Park of Artillery.

4th Brigade, Colonel Nott: three regiments Native Infantry.

5th Brigade, Colonel Paul: three regiments Native Infantry, one company Artillery, besides engineers, commissariat, and staff.

The day after our arrival, Maharajah Runjeet Singh came over to visit Lord Auckland, and I accompanied the governor-general's escort on the occasion. After remaining upwards of six hours in the saddle, in front of Lord Auckland's Durbar tents, we heard the welcome sound of Runjeet's gongs and nousheras approaching, and shortly after, from beneath a massive canopy of dust, emerged the motley array of Runjeet's elephants and cavalcade. Now, hundreds of gaily clad Sikh horsemen—some in bright chain armour, others in various coloured silks and cloth of gold, brandished their long spears, flung back their brass embossed shields, and galloped with headlong fury around the maharajah's elephants, exhibiting to us the singular dexterity with which they could wield their arms and manage their horses.

As the procession approached, Runjeet was conspicuous in front, on an enormous elephant, and dressed in a plain suit of ruby coloured cashmere, with a turban of the same colour, whilst on his arm glittered the famous koh-i-noor, the diamond which, as I before mentioned, his highness obtained in no very creditable manner from Shah Soojah.

The maharajah was rather below the middling stature, slight in form, and his face expressive of the shrewdest cunning. The leer that occasionally escaped from his single optic seemed to tell a clear tale of debauchery. He was then about fifty-six years of age, although I should have taken him to be more; but an unbridled devotion to ardent spirits tells on personal appearance, and appeared to have corroded his iron frame.

After the chief had passed, a swarm of Sikhs followed, some on horseback and some on foot, dressed in the most fantastical and grotesque style, but at the same time the materials were generally of a costly and extravagant quality.

The long spear and matchlock appeared to be their favourite weapons; but many were armed only with tolwars and daggers. The rear was closed up by a battalion of infantry, dressed much like our sepoys, and drilled according to the French system of military tactics, introduced by General Alard.

As Runjeet approached the audience tent, Lord Auckland and Sir Henry Fane put their elephants in motion to meet him, and, after sundry greetings and salaams, the whole party proceeded to the Durbar, where the principal actors were obscured from our view by the dense mass of British officers and Sikhs, who thronged in after them. What passed is barely worthy of record. Lord Auckland presented a picture of Queen Victoria, which Runjeet, with becoming gallantry, pressed to his lips. After sundry professions of inviolable friendship, Runjeet made some inquiries regarding Aden, which Sir Henry Fane informed him was occupied by a British garrison. In a short time they adjourned to look at some cannon, which had been brought as a present to the maharajah, and over which both he and Sir Henry narrowly escaped breaking their heads, having stumbled on a heap of cannon balls arranged near the tent.

Accompanied by his suite, Runjeet remounted his elephant amidst a deafening salute from the guns of the camel-battery; these seemed to take his fancy vastly; and, drawing up opposite them, he saw the camels yoked and the guns drawn past him, expressing great delight and astonishment at the neatness and regularity of this newly constructed battery.

When the maharajah had departed, we also returned to camp, which we did not reach before one o'clock, when the sun, although a December one, was fiercely hot.

On the 1st of December, Lord Auckland returned Runjeet's visit. We arrived at the river about sunrise, and having crossed on the bridge of boats, found Runjeet's army drawn up, and forming a street from the river to the Durbar tents. Nearest to us were the cavalry, the same motley hordes we had seen two days before; beyond them, stood the infantry, dressed, both in the military and common acceptation of the term, with extraordinary attention; and if they will fight as well as they look, are likely to do their master good service. Next came a body of goorcheras, or irregular horsemen, dressed in white, and armed with lances and matchlocks—a remarkably fine-looking body of men, but generally believed to have an insuperable objection to injure their fellow-creatures. Much as we may admire their philanthropy, we must nevertheless admit the quality to be objectionable in a military point of view. In rear of this array of philanthropists, were disposed a numerous body of surwars, mounted on camels, and carrying swivel-guns, which looked like large blunderbusses, from which abominable instruments an incessant firing was kept up from the time we crossed the river until we recrossed on our return.

The governor-general having made his appearance in the street of Sikhs, Runjeet and his court advanced at a rapid pace on their elephants to greet his excellency. The dust arose in such masses as for a time obscured every object; but at the point of junction of the two parties, the concentrated cloud slowly drifted aside, and displayed to our dazzled sight the richest blaze of Eastern splendour that for many years had reflected the rays of our destructive enemy.

The elephants' housings in Runjeet's suite were made of gorgeously-embroidered gold cloth, and surmounted by howdahs, inlaid with ivory and ebony; and Runjeet and his attendants, glittering with silver and gold, silks and precious stones, formed a marked contrast to the governor-general and his retinue in their scarlet or blue uniforms.

The maharajah, as before, was remarkable among the Sikh throng for the uniformity of his costume, and the noble elephant which carried him, on which Lord Auckland had now seated himself, at Runjeet's invitation; and the whole procession moved rapidly towards the Durbar tents.

Disengaging myself from the mêlée which ensued, I galloped up the street, and after some difficulty, succeeded in effecting an entrance through the silken gateway. Within, was a garden, where the rarest evergreens and flowers were growing, having sprung up, as if by magic,[14] during the night. In the centre, was the Durbar-tent, made of strongly-woven Cashmere, and supported by silver poles. The floor was spread with Persian carpets, and the furniture was of frosted silver, inlaid with golden ornaments.

The maharajah having seated himself, Sir Henry Fane and Lord Auckland took their places on each side.

Behind Runjeet stood his prime minister, the wily and tyrannous Dhian Singh, clad in a panoply of bright steel armour, elaborately gilded. Little could be seen of his face besides the dark flashing eyes and high-bridged nose, for a monstrous pair of moustaches and a beard covered his visage and a great part of his body also.

A glittering string of diamonds and emeralds encircled his neck; and in his turban stood a bustard's feather, fastened by a diamond brooch. Scattered about the tent were many of the sirdars and ministers, remarkable, principally, for the variety and magnificence of their attire and the length of their beards.

Mr. Macnaghten, who had been appointed British envoy to Caubul in the meditated operations, stood in front of the trio, acting as interpreter on the occasion, during which I did not hear any political subject discussed.

Runjeet, finding matters look heavy and irksome, sent for a party of Punjaubee girls, to dance and sing for the amusement of his two solemn visitors. The young ladies who made their appearance were not remarkable for beauty: amongst the whole coterie, I saw but two girls who could be called pretty. I did not hear, and lament I cannot record, the opinions of the governor-general and commander-in-chief on this particular.

The imposing ballet being ended, and the little Nautch damsels having filed off, presents of Cashmere shawls and jewellery were brought on trays and exhibited. When these had been taken away, there seemed no chance of any more amusements. Poor Runjeet's stock was exhausted; he looked dreadfully ennuyé; and it certainly seemed a relief to the chief performers when the party broke up. We all hastened to get back to our posts when the ceremony was over, though much impeded by the inquisitiveness of the Sikhs, whose curiosity about every trifle was quite insatiable. A long-haired barbarian begged to be informed the use of a sabretash, which seemed to take his fancy much, and inquired if it was used to carry provisions? He was informed that we seldom or ever touched food for many days on a campaign if there were much hard fighting. "Wau, wau!" exclaimed the astonished barbarian, dropping the sabretash, and gazing in his informant's face with equal amazement and credulity.

A Sikh sipahee, remarking some British officers with few symptoms of manhood visible on their faces, quaintly inquired what rank those young ladies held in the army!

Benighted savage! he little knew, and perhaps could never understand, the absolute and tyrannous sway maintained by our Northern fair!

About mid-day, we recrossed the bridge of boats, and returned, under a scorching sun, to camp.

The following day, a review of the British forces was held, for the benefit of the maharajah. About ten thousand men were under arms at daybreak; but from that time till noon, when we returned to camp, everything was wrapped in an almost impenetrable veil of dust.

The next day, Runjeet gave us a field-day on his side of the river, which I was prevented by duty from witnessing; but from the picket near the Sutlej, where I was posted, the firing of the infantry and artillery seemed quite as rapid, though not quite so steady, as our own. Indeed, most of the officers returned astonished to find the Sikh army so effective and well-disciplined.

For this discipline, Runjeet was mainly indebted to Generals Alard and Ventura, two officers of the French imperial army, who passed through Lahore on their travels from Persia to Hindostan.

They were detained by Runjeet in a sort of honorary captivity, until he succeeded in inducing them to enter his service. At the expiration of six months, Ventura exhibited to the maharajah a battalion of Sikhs, organized on the French system of military tactics, and Runjeet, as may be supposed, was greatly pleased at the incalculable improvement in his men's appearance.

One circumstance gave considerable annoyance to the sensitive general, which was the indomitable taste for finery among the subordinate officers, many of whom far surpassed their commander in richness of costume. This circumstance was turned to some account by the politic Ventura, who insinuated to his master that many officers of his battalion were enabled to wear richer lace and bullion than he could procure or afford. Runjeet replied, that he would put it beyond their power to do so any longer, and caused to be made and presented to Ventura a pair of pearl epaulettes of unrivalled magnificence.

Both these officers remained long in the service of the Sikhs. Alard died shortly before the old Lion himself, but Ventura remained to serve his successor Shere Singh.

A continual scene of festivity prevailed in Runjeet's camp during our halt at Ferozepore. The sound of music and revelry was borne on the evening breeze, the rattle of feu-de-joie rang daily in our ears, and at night the welkin glowed with fireworks and illuminations.

At length, the order for our march was issued, and the proclamation stated, that in consequence of recent intelligence[15] from Herat, the commander-in-chief, and governor-general deemed it requisite to prosecute the campaign with the following troops only—viz.,

The Cavalry Brigade, and Camel Battery.

Three Brigades of Infantry and the Artillery of the Park, with two troops of Horse Artillery.

The whole Bengal force was placed under command of Sir Willoughby Cotton, until its junction with the Bombay army, when Sir John Keane was to assume command of the united forces, as Sir Henry Fane was suffering severely from ill health, and about to resign his command and return to England.

Colonel Thackwell, of the 3rd Light Dragoons, was appointed to command the cavalry division, consisting of two brigades, one from the Bengal, the other from the Bombay presidency.

On the tenth of December, we commenced our march from Ferozepore, passing, during the first four days, through the protected Sikh states, and encamping near villages where supplies were abundant and water excellent.

On the fifth day, we entered the territories of Bahawul Khan, concerning whom many false reports had been prevalent in camp, setting forth his ill disposition towards the British, and his desire to impede our progress through his country; the propagators of these fanciful rumours fathering them invariably on the most plausible and least tangible authorities.

The confidential whispers of the envoy who was in our rear, or of Sir Alexander Burnes, who was in advance, were usually quoted by these alarmists to command attention to their fabrications. At first, these tales formed matter of amusement and speculation on the line of march; but as falsehoods were daily multiplied, the authors, and their inventions, became a fair subject of ridicule, and, as in the fable of the shepherd's boy and the wolf, all reports were alike disbelieved. However, the information department, during the whole campaign, was not eminently successful; and this may, in some degree, palliate the superabundance of false reports prevalent during the whole march, which, in many instances, had influence over those in command, and were productive of mischievous results.

During our march through the Bahawulpore country, we found an abundant stock of grain collected for us at each encampment, which enabled the commissariat to reserve the stores laid in for the campaign.

During each morning's march, the Sutlej lay about two or three miles distant. The country adjacent to it was well cultivated, and in some places covered with thick underwood; yet, notwithstanding the abundant supply of fuel on the river's banks, many commissariat camels had been laden with wood for the use of the army, which had much more need of grain and other useful stores, of which ere long they bitterly felt the want. It is worthy of observation, that Burnes, in his report of the Indus and Sutlej, made frequent mention of the jungle in their vicinity.

Although the prospect, thus far, was sufficiently cheering on the right, that on our left flank presented a dreary contrast. We had reached the borders of that extensive desert which lies south and east of Bahawulpore, and reduces the cultivated tract of this country to a mere strip of land, bordering the Sutlej. Far as the eye could reach when turned towards the British possessions, nothing was discernible but a barren and trackless desert. Here and there, a few hillocks had collected and risen over some untimely shrubs, which had sprung up unconscious of their fatal position, until the domineering sands, jealous of such an encroachment on their demesnes, arose and entombed their helpless victims, leaving these mounds as so many trophies to assert their resistless and desolating sway.

The roads were deep and sandy, causing the artillery horses and bullocks severe labour in dragging the guns. But the camels of Major Pew's battery were quite in their element on the desert, and stalked lustily away with the heavy guns and carriages.

About the end of December, we had some light showers of rain, which rendered the climate delightfully cool in the daytime, (the nights and mornings had been piercingly cold for some weeks,) and cloth garments were in great requisition.

The inhabitants of the country were so peaceably disposed, that we were enabled to send on tents over night according to the custom in India, which ensures, on arrival in camp, every morning, the luxuries of a cup of coffee, a couch, and a bath; the latter is taken al fresco from a skin filled with water, and poured over the shoulders by a native. Notwithstanding the good feeling exhibited by the country-people, our military authorities seemed resolved to distrust them, and posted a squadron on picket, day and night, with orders to keep mounted patrols on the alert. An opportunity was hereby afforded of exercising our vigilance on the camel-drivers and grass-cutters near the camp, and also of ascertaining by experiment, how much deterioration would be effected in the constitution of man and horse, by a curtailment of natural rest, added to long daily marches, and what length of time would be required to effect that object: the result amply solved the problem.

The jungle, on the banks of the river, held a vast quantity of game; the most numerous of which, was the black partridge—a bird also found in many parts of Hindostan, and the most beautifully marked, I think, of the feathered tribe. They frequent the jhow[16] jungle during the heat of the day, and require an extensive and compact line of beaters to get them out of the thick covert. Hare, snipe, and quail, were also plentiful, and, occasionally, we met with a great variety of wild duck and water-fowl of almost every description, among the marshes by the river side. The shooting in these marshes can only be followed by those who despise malaria, for they are proverbially unhealthy: the excitement of meeting a stray tiger, or sinking in one of the treacherous quicksands which abound in the vicinity of the Sutlej, and are generally felt before they are seen, may add zest to more adventurous sportsmen.

The distance from Ferozepore to Bahawulpore was two hundred and twenty-one miles, according to our route; this, we overcame in eighteen marches, having halted twice for a day. The government agents had been exerting themselves to get supplies laid in for us at each march, but complaints were urged against Bahawul Khan, of not having duly exerted himself in forwarding this object. Poor man! no doubt he entertained strong fear regarding his own independence, after the military visit with which he was now threatened—no British troops having marched this road previously. Shah Soojah, with his motley contingent,[17] preceded the column, and no doubt seized the lion's share of whatever supplies he met with, and from his previous character, there is no reason to suppose that Bahawul Khan entertained a high opinion of our royal companion.

Our army now marched in five columns, the sappers and miners in advance, the cavalry-brigade next, and the three infantry-brigades in succession, at intervals of one day's march between each brigade.

FOOTNOTES:

[11] It must be borne in mind that forts are not carried by eastern nations with the celerity of modern art. A siege of two or three years' duration being a matter of frequent occurrence.

[12] "Koh-i-noor" means Mountain of Light, and is applied to a diamond something less than a pigeon's egg!

[13] Koutub means, literally, the pole. The title of the emperor of that name was Koutub-ul-dien, or the pole-star of religion. He reigned at Lahore and Delhi, and died about A.D. 1210.

[14] This magic garden had been imported from Lahore, and planted during the night.

[15] Viz., the news then received of the Persians having retired from Herat.

[16] The jhow is a shrub resembling the yew tree, and affords good food for the camels.

[17] This contingent consisted of raw Hindoo levies raised for Shah Soojah's guard, in Afghanistan, amounting to about five thousand men and four guns.

[CHAPTER IV.]

ARRIVAL AT BAHAWULPORE—SIR HENRY FANE'S INTERVIEW WITH THE KHAN—PROGRESS TO SCINDE ACROSS THE INDUS.

On the 29th of December, the cavalry-brigade reached Bahawulpore, in the vicinity of which the country is richly cultivated. The view was enlivened by hordes of Bahawul Khan's wild-looking cavalry, encamped amongst the groves of palm and date trees in the neighbourhood.

We marched into our camp near the city under a heavy fall of rain, and were met by a son of the khan, who came to pay his respects to Sir Willoughby Cotton, whilst his father visited Sir Henry Fane on board his boats, which kept parallel with the army during its progress.

On the 31st, Sir Henry returned the visit, attended by a numerous suite of officers. Bahawul Khan made no efforts to display any splendour; perhaps, he considered it politic to affect poverty in the presence of the British chief. The conversation was as interesting as usual on the like occasions, and ran, as well as I can remember, nearly as follows:—

Sir Henry.—I come as the emissary of the British government, to offer you their friendship.

B. Khan.—I am sensible of the condescension displayed towards me, both by them and yourself, in granting this interview.

Sir Henry.—The British government are just and equitable, faithful to their friends, terrible to their enemies, (looking very dignified, and rather fierce.)

B. Khan.—I fully appreciate the magnitude of the British name, and see their power. All I have is theirs, and I am your slave.

Sir Henry.—Now, talk we of other matters. Is not the climate unusually cold for this season of the year, at Bahawulpore?

B. Khan.—It is, undoubtedly; but at the present moment, I feel neither cold nor damp, whilst basking in the sunshine of your presence.

Sir Henry was looking blue with cold, and stiff with dignity; so the khan must have been of a fiery temperament if he spoke the truth.

Such was the substance of the conversation that passed between the two potentates; but setting bombast aside, Bahawul Khan has always expressed to those officers who visited his capital the utmost respect for the British, and an anxiety to preserve a sincere alliance. His decision has been unquestionably politic; for, by placing himself under British protection, he has saved his country from the rapacity of his formidable neighbours, the Sikhs.

The city of Bahawulpore is of considerable extent, and surrounded by a dilapidated mud wall, about twelve feet in height and four in thickness. The principal houses are built of brick, but huddled so closely together, as to engender filth and heat to an unnecessary degree. The khan's palace is in the centre of the town, and presents as mean an exterior as the other houses. Of the interior, I can form no estimate, not having visited it. The narrow bazaars were thronged all day; and trade seemed to be flourishing briskly amongst the twenty thousand inhabitants which Bahawulpore is said to contain.

Woollens, hardware, and a variety of fruit, seemed to be the principal articles exposed for sale; but the prevalent commodity is undoubtedly filth.

The men are certainly a larger, better looking, and more brawny race than that of the upper provinces of Bengal.

The women are so carefully wrapped in veils, that I was enabled to catch only a faint glimpse of their faces, and a very indistinct one of their figures; but the damsels of the East usually evince greater anxiety to conceal their face than any other part of their persons.

The only Bahawulpore fair ones I had a good opportunity of seeing and speaking to, were some dancing-girls, attending the khan's party, whilst in our camp. They were lively creatures, with very fair skins, laughing black eyes, and the airy, graceful figures that are almost the universal characteristic of Eastern belles.

The city is about three miles distant from the Sutlej, which must ere long be the grand channel of communication between the upper provinces of Bengal and the Bombay presidency. Its turbid surface, now seldom unruffled by aught save the occasional plunge of a startled alligator, will soon resound to the cries of busy boatmen and the plash of innumerable oars.

On New Year's day, 1839, we resumed our march, bidding adieu to the Sutlej, which diverges hence a little to the west, and unites its waters with the Chinab, which, thirty miles below this confluence, falls into the Indus.

As we advanced, the desert continued on our left, cheerless as ever; but at every ten or twelve miles, we found a halting-place at some village, near which were usually some fields of grain, and invariably good water.

The stunted shrubs continued to afford us ample firewood, and the occasional hamlets grain enough to feed our horses without indenting on the commissariat stores.

Khanpore, eight marches from Bahawulpore, is a city of considerable extent, and occasionally the residence of Bahawul Khan, who visits it on account of the abundance of wild boar and hog deer frequenting the neighbouring jungles, many of which we saw in our shooting-excursions, and occasionally on the line of march.

The governor fired a royal salute as the cavalry-brigade marched through the city, which compliment was cheaply returned (ammunition being valuable) by our band striking up "God save the king!"—who the monarchs were, to whom these royal honours were paid, we were unable to ascertain.

Here, many of our servants and camp-followers deserted during the night; nor were we able to recover any of the runaways. There is a track from hence to Hissar, across the desert, which they probably took, being weary of the long march, and frightened by the account of some fruit-merchants from Caubul, in camp, who expatiated on the cold of Afghanistan and the ferocity of its inhabitants.

Five marches beyond this place, brought us to the frontiers of the Ameers of Scinde, where we were joined by Sir Alexander Burnes, who seemed dubious of the peaceful disposition of the Hydrabad Ameers, though their cousin of Khyrpoor professed his readiness to co-operate in the free navigation of the Indus.

This part of Upper Scinde is overgrown with thick jungle, which is cleared in the neighbourhood of villages, to make room for crops of jewar, coarse sugar-cane, and wheat. The natives seem a hardy and industrious race; but the tribes of Beloochees, from the mountains on the right bank of the Indus, infest the country, and are its bane, exercising a despotic authority over the unfortunate and peaceable Scindians, and plundering travellers and merchants of all countries who venture this road without a sufficient protection. No sooner had we crossed the boundary-line, than we were cautioned not to venture singly any distance from camp, as these marauders were sure to be hovering in the vicinity, on the look-out for plunder; and several camp-followers were daily murdered by these savages for the sake of the few pieces of silver in their possession, or, failing these, for the clothes they wore; yet in spite of these numerous examples, the roving propensities of our followers were not easily overcome.

Hitherto, no communication had been received from Sir John Keane, who was to land at Kurachee, one of the mouths of the Indus, and advance by the right bank of the river to Shikarpore, having previously arranged the terms of a treaty with the Ameers of Hydrabad, either amicably or with the bayonet.

When we had arrived within three marches of Bukkur Island and fort, where it was intended that the army should cross the Indus, intelligence was received from Sir John Keane, announcing his arrival at Tatta, a large town on the right bank, about forty miles below Hydrabad;[18] he had experienced great difficulties even in reaching that place, from want of carriage, and the unfriendly disposition of the Ameers.

Hydrabad was fortified in the usual native fashion, and was said to be garrisoned by more than twenty thousand Beloochees: confiding in these troops, (or, at their dictation,) the Ameer had rejected the terms proposed by the political agent, Colonel Pottinger, which were—

1st. The payment of thirty lakhs of rupees, the arrears of tribute due to Shah Soojah.

2ndly. To throw open, and promote by every means in their power, the free navigation of the Indus.

3rdly. To support a force of four thousand troops to be quartered in Scinde.

It appeared far from surprising that the Ameers, who had always been noted for a jealousy of intercourse with strangers, and especially with the British, should have felt averse to comply with terms which rendered Scinde, at one stroke of the pen, a mere dependency on our colossal Eastern empire.

On the march towards Bukkur, the jungle was so thick on each side of the road, that the Scindians, had they been disposed to annoy us, had many opportunities of effecting that object almost with impunity. One morning, about daybreak, the advanced guard missed the road, and led nearly the whole army astray in the woods, where the paths branching in many directions, induced each party to wander according to their fancy. Col. Ninny, an officer of remarkable intelligence, who accompanied the party with which I was wandering, pushed resolutely forward, insisting that the path he followed must be the right one. "But surely, sir," remonstrated one of the officers, "this cannot be the way, for we now face the rising sun, and our proper direction is nearly west." The intellectual features of the gallant colonel were contracted with ineffable scorn, as he replied, "And pray, sir, what has the sun got to do with our road?"

Though blind at the time to the acuteness of the observation, I have since dwelt upon it, as singularly characteristic of that gifted individual, who, with a steady perseverance, has braved obstacles, which, (as in the present case,) judged by the fallacious test of reason, would have appeared to ordinary men insuperable! Unhappily, in this instance, the combinations of that great mind were not allowed time for development, as an aide-de-camp rode up, and pointing to the rear, indicated that the road lay in that direction, and the general would be happy to see us on it.

On the morning of the 25th of January we marched up to the town of Rohree and encamped on the banks of the Indus.

Rohree is built on a flinty rock that rises abruptly on the left side of the river, which had hitherto been low and full of dangerous quicksands. A range of bare hills, trending to the south, run from Rohree, throughout lower Scinde, and terminate in the Delta, a few miles from the sea. From the southern part of the town, a thick grove of bastard date-trees extends many miles along the river's banks, adding considerably to the beauty of the view. In the river, opposite to Rohree, and between it and Sukkur, stands the important island and fortress of Bukkur. The site is low and sandy, but the fort, which is built of brick, stands about thirty feet in height, and is commanded from either bank, as the Indus is less than eight hundred yards in breadth at this season.

From Sukkur, on the opposite shore, the bank rises to a considerable elevation, opposing a barrier to the encroachment of the waters at the periods of inundation. On the left shore, the whole country is intersected by watercourses, made for the purpose of retaining the water after the inundation, which is said to cover a large extent of country.

A few miles from Rohree are the ruins of the ancient city of Alore, which present to the view an extensive field of devastation. They afford little interest to the traveller, as the few edifices standing are so dilapidated, and the imagery so nearly effaced, as to baffle the researches of the most patient antiquarian. The indefatigable Burnes has pursued the subject with his usual intelligence, but such matters afford more scope for conjecture than research, as the earlier periods of Indian history are deeply involved in darkness and fable. We were, however, informed by a learned aide-de-camp of the commander-in-chief, that Alexander the Great had halted there for two days, and he even indicated the position of the royal pavilion with as much confidence as if he had been present on the occasion, which placed the question beyond a doubt.

The river was now a scene of much activity, the chief engineer being engaged in collecting boats to form a bridge to Sukkur, which required a numerous assemblage, the distance to Bukkur island being nearly 400 yards, though beyond it the channel was very narrow.