Recollections of Thirty-nine Years in the Army

The dispatch of the 43rd Light Infantry for service in New Zealand was in Calcutta looked upon as quite an important event; arrangements for transport presented no difficulty whatever, but it was impossible to provide the regiment with equipment of a kind suitable for the service on which they were proceeding, for however well adapted for the circumstances of India is that authorized by regulations of the country, it is ill adapted for others in which camels and elephants as beasts of burthen are unobtainable.

From different parts of India came reports of disaffection, while from some, including Sittana, came accounts of actual outbreaks —fanatical, they were called. Early in October information reached us that under Admiral Kuper the British fleet had opened fire upon and destroyed the forts at Kagosima, though not without heavy loss to his own officers and men. Orders had been issued in England for the dispatch of reinforcements thither, and instructions to the same effect have been received by the Government of India.

In course of duty I visited the several stations within the divisions already named at which British troops were quartered, renewing acquaintance with places formerly well known, and connected with which were various associations, pleasant and otherwise. Of such places were the jungle road leading from Arrah to Jugdispore, so familiar in connection with service there; Beehea, where our force was suddenly attacked by Koer Singh’s rebel sepoys; Jounpore, through the streets of which city in dead of night our field force marched towards what proved to be a somewhat severe action at Teegra, listening as we proceeded to the sound of “grinders” at their “mills,” by which alone silence was broken; Azimghur, with the compound in which under fire from sepoy rifles we bivouacked, the line of march, and scene of action by our force against the besieging mutineers.

On that tour of inspection duty the journey from Dinapore to Darjeeling was attended by incidents of which the following are examples: – A hitch and consequent delay in regard to transit arrangements; several hours by railway train; a night spent in a wattle-and-daub hut called a dâk bungalow; twenty odd miles by steamer on the Ganges; starting by palanqueen; a break-down; return on foot several miles to the place whence I had so proceeded; delay and trouble in obtaining another conveyance of the same kind; another start; a short rest in the house of a hospitable civil servant; then on by raised causeway through a long tract of swampy ground; rowed across a broad nullah, and then the land journey resumed. After a little the discovery was made that the carrier of the luggage had dropped out of sight, nor could his whereabouts be discovered. On arriving at the “stage” where a relay of bearers was expected, there were none in waiting; the old ones heavily bribed continued, but at a slow pace, with many intervals to rest and indulge in smoking. Two more stages had to be got over in much the same manner, and then on reaching the rest house at the foot of the ascent towards Darjeeling, no provision whatever had been made for progress onward. Starting on foot, some four or five miles were got over, when meeting a native leading a small horse, or tat, bare backed, without halter or other substitute than a rope around its neck, I mounted the animal, but unable to guide it, had to resume walking, and so in time got over twenty out of the thirty miles that separate Punkabaree from the popular hill station. Railway transit between Calcutta and Darjeeling was in the far future.

In the near vicinity of Darjeeling numerous hillmen were employed improving and remodelling the road along which my walk lay. The general aspect presented by them was miserable and unpleasant. Tartar in feature and costume, the majority distinguished by queue or “pigtail”; many affected with goitre, others with large foul ulcers on legs or feet, unprotected by dressing of any kind, – the ulcers said to result from wounds inflicted by a poisonous fly abundantly met with here and hereabout.

In the early hours of the following morning a magnificent view of the snowy range, including the peaks of Mount Everest and Kinchinjunga was obtained, all reflecting brilliantly the first rays of sunlight, but later on becoming obscured by mist.

An experimental station for troops had some few years previously been established at Sinchal, situated on a mountain spur about a thousand feet higher than Darjeeling itself. Thither I went in course of duty, but only to learn how hateful the place was to officers and men quartered there, isolated, and for the most part concealed in cloud or mist as it was, the atmosphere damp, cold, and chilly. That the experiment was a failure was evident, but some time had yet to elapse before it was so acknowledged officially, and abandoned.

Situated in a deep valley, ten or twelve miles from Darjeeling, and at a level of four thousand feet below that station, are the mineral wells of Nunsook; the intervening spurs and ranges for the most part under cultivation with tea, coffee, or cinchona. Between us and the wells the Rungnoo River rushed in curling foam along its rocky bed, leaping as it went, as a cascade of considerable height and volume. Crossing that stream by a wooden bridge, then ascending among the rocks to a little distance, we reached the object of our journey. So deep and narrow is the mountain rent in which the chalybeate spring issues from the rock, that sunlight reaches it during no more than two hours daily. In its immediate neighbourhood was a hut in which a few British soldiers were accommodated, also “experimentally” to test the beneficial qualities of the spring. No wonder that they wished themselves with their regiment, or anywhere except at the well of Nunsook.

Another excursion was to the valley of the Rungeet River, some fourteen miles distant from Darjeeling, and forming the boundary between British India and Sikkim. The descent is steep; as we proceeded we met numbers of hillmen toiling upwards, bearing heavy loads in kalbas or baskets upon their backs – women were similarly engaged – the goods so carried consisting in a great part of borax, spices, and other “fragrant” substances, including asafœtida, – some of the people so fair that a rosy tint was on their faces. As we descended into the deep and narrow valley the snowy range, at first so prominent an object, became lost to view, precipices shut us in on either side, trees of great size rising from ledges or projecting from crevices. The Rungeet rushed as a large green-coloured stream along its rugged bed, at short intervals curling in white foam as it eddied around rocks or leaped in cascades over ledges; at a short distance from where we now were it joins the Rungnoo, the united stream so formed being the Teesta, which finally discharges itself into the Brahmapootra. Crossing the Rungeet by what seemed a very frail and unsteady bridge of cane,244 we arrived in Sikkim, the span of the construction by which we did so being two hundred feet, the roaring torrent rushing beneath us. Such was the character of one part of the sphere in which in 1861 military operations had to be conducted against that region, including the transport of guns and supplies.

The return journey from Darjeeling was in some respects little less unpleasant than that to it had been. Arrived at Raneegunge, it became necessary to proceed towards the station of Hazarabagh, and for that purpose to take “garry” along some part of the Grand Trunk Road, by which in 1859 I had marched with the 10th Foot when en route for England. In the course of that journey crowds of pilgrims were encountered, each bearing upon his forehead the distinctive mark of the Hindoo sect to which he belonged, and carrying the pilgrim’s gourd so familiar to us in mediæval pictures; all were devout in aspect and manner; some performing penance by crawling on hands and knees – a mode of progression by which the distance daily got over by them was said to be about one mile. And yet the majority of them had come from Ajudiah (Fyzabad), and were on their way to Juggurnath.

Two days thereafter I traversed a flight of locusts. Seen from a distance the mass looked somewhat like a snow shower in a clear sunshiny day, the apparent breadth of the flight over a mile, its length six or eight; the road and bare soil on either side completely covered by those that had fallen or alighted; the sound made by those still on the wing distinct and rustling. The conditions alluded to in this and the preceding paragraph illustrate those which existed while railways were in their early stages.

The arrival of my beloved wife on December 13 was an event to be chronicled, though for the time being a boarding-house was the substitute for the home to which I could take her. Like so many other ladies similarly situated, she had to place her children at school as best she could, and then take leave of them to join her husband in India. The necessity of so parting with one’s children is one of the greatest drawbacks of service in India, or indeed anywhere in the tropics; it is lamented by all who are affected by it, and by none more than by ourselves. And yet it is unavoidable. Various instances illustrative of unsatisfactory results arising out of this necessity occur to the mind of most men of experience, not the least being that sons and daughters are thrown more or less at haphazard upon those whose method and manner of training is destined to determine the style of their own lives and the relations in which they are to stand with their parents.

The somewhat sudden death of Lord Elgin, while on tour, was followed by very general expression of sympathy; among those who had been associated with him in China, and so had opportunities of estimating his amiable and upright character, the sentiment was one of regret and esteem. But in India, as elsewhere —le Roi est mort; Vive le Roi. Sir John Lawrence arrived from England ere many weeks were over; was received by a guard of honor; duly sworn in, and matters official proceeded in their ordinary course.

For the first time, and as an experiment, an Agricultural Exhibition was organized and took place. The variety of animals brought from all parts of British India was great; so was that of native contributors and visitors; but there was reason to believe that lively interest on the part of the latter was sadly lacking; they thought of the entire proceeding in the light of a mere tomashah, or “hubbub,” and nothing more.

In the further north, – namely, on the Sittana frontier, – the “rising” among some tribes of that region had just been suppressed; that favourable end attained in part by means of a military expedition, in part by persuasion, otherwise diplomacy.

Experience had long taught residents in Lower Bengal that the period of early spring is that when cholera is most to be dreaded, alike in respect to the suddenness of its attack and its fatality. The 55th Regiment, recently arrived and temporarily encamped at Raneegunge, became somewhat severely attacked by that scourge. Various instances of sudden death occurred from the same cause among old Calcutta residents, and the health of others began to droop; among them my wife.

Soon after the direct government of India had been assumed by the Crown, a Royal Commission was appointed to inquire into sanitary questions relating chiefly to the British troops in that dependency, and also to the native population, whether in cities, villages, or rural districts; their deliberations were necessarily protracted. In due course their report was published, and now the new Governor-General issued the necessary orders for the appointment, in Calcutta, of a Commission to give effect to their recommendations, familiarly referred to as the Thirty-nine Articles, that being their number. On that Commission I was appointed to serve.245 It began its labours with enthusiasm, in the belief that by measures to be recommended by it the havoc by sickness and death to which our troops had been subject during the long period of our hold on India were to be materially lessened, their condition generally improved. At this date the number of soldiers required to fill the vacancies so caused amounted to 240 per week, and this we hoped to reduce considerably.

Among the Wahabees246 of India there existed widespread spirit of disaffection, Patna and Dacca being two important centres of its propagation. From Europe came news of war between Denmark on the one hand, Austria and Prussia on the other; the combined armies being in occupation of Schleswig. That America had claimed from England indemnity for losses inflicted by the Alabama247 on the plea that as “290” she was built in a British dockyard. The request of the Pekin Government for British officers to act against the Taipings being acceded to, the list of those so “lent” included the name of Major C. G. Gordon, R.E., whose remarkable career had thus its starting point. From New Zealand came, unhappily, news of misfortune to the regiment recently dispatched from Calcutta to take part against the Maoris.

On the invitation of a friend248 we proceeded to his indigo factory, and so had an opportunity of obtaining some interesting particulars with regard to that industry, the actual origin of which in India, seems to have been due to civil servants of the East India Company. South America is the region to which the growth and manufacture of the plant and dye originally pertained. When introduced into India, the cultivators grew it simply at the request of the civilian in his particular district, and for the profit of the latter; after a time overseers were employed, but as in those days the presence of “interlopers” was discouraged by the local government, the class of persons employed was not such as to exert upon the natives that moral influence which would have been beneficial as it was desirable. This state of things after a time gave place to a better; the presence of adventurers, as all who belonged not to the Indian service were called, had to be recognised, and so the indigo industry fell into the hands of men belonging to the middle class of British society. Then came what has ever since been looked upon as class legislation, the effect of which is considered to have been friction and disaccord between cultivators and planters.

One of the most severe hurricanes recorded in this part of India occurred on the night of October 7; the devastation caused by it on land, at sea, and in the river Hooghly, being great and extensive. Off Calcutta ships were driven from their moorings and wrecked; in some instances in tiers. So high did the storm-wave rise that the river overflowed the high embankment, carrying with it one or two vessels, one of which was left stranded near the Botanic Gardens; many houses were damaged, some completely destroyed; trees in all directions were prostrated, among them the once famous “duelling tree,” under the shade of which in early morning “meetings” took place in days not long past, and “honour” was satisfied – at the distance of twelve paces.

Regarding hurricanes, the first of which definite record is available swept over Calcutta in 1737. An extremely violent one happened in 1821, on which occasion the storm-wave covered Saugor Island, destroying immense numbers of people, cattle, and wild animals. Another took place in 1842, then in 1851, and now in 1864, indicating something like a cycle, varying from eleven to thirteen years between their occurrence.

The significance of some among the public events alluded to in the preceding notes transpired in years subsequent to their actual occurrence; the following brief summary relating to the chief performers in that drama is accordingly given here. From the death of Dost Mahomed,249 in June, 1863, till September, 1868, his third son, Sheer Ali Khan, who, with the sanction of the Government of India, succeeded him on the throne of Affghanistan, passed through a very stormy time. His two elder brothers, Afzul and Azim, and his nephew, Abdur Rahman (the present ruler), were in revolt against him. His favourite son and heir-apparent, Ali Khan, was killed in action in 1865. In 1866 he was defeated near Ghazni by Abdar Rahman, who released his father, Afzul, from prison, into which he had been cast by Sheer Ali, led him in triumph to Cabul, and proclaimed him Amir of Affghanistan. Afzul at once wrote to the Government of India, expressing a hope that as such the friendship of the British would be extended to him. He was informed in reply that the Government of Sir John Lawrence recognised him only as Ruler of Cabul; that as Sheer Ali held Kandahar and Herat, existing engagements with the latter could not be broken off. Afzul and Azim thereupon directed the Waziri chiefs in attendance at Court, together with the envoy, who had come from Swat to pay respects to the new Amir, to set on foot a holy war against the English, while an emissary was sent on a secret mission to Russia. In 1867 Sheer Ali was again defeated near Khelat-i-Ghilsie, and lost Kandahar. On this fact being communicated to the Government of India, Afzul Khan was in his turn recognised as Amir of Cabul and Kandahar, Sir John Lawrence at the same time informing him that the British Government intended to maintain a strict neutrality between the contending parties in Affghanistan. This policy on the part of the Governor-General was at the time called, often in sarcastic terms, “masterly inactivity.”250 Under the circumstances of the time, such public opinion as found expression in Calcutta approved of the policy in question. But neither to Afzul nor Azim was that policy satisfactory. They sent a copy of the letter conveying the decision of Sir John Lawrence to the Russian Governor of Tashkend, who was informed by Afzul that he had no confidence in the “Lord Sahib’s” fine professions of friendship; that he was disgusted with the British Government for the ingratitude and ill-treatment shown towards his brother Azim, who, it was asserted, had encouraged his father, Dost Mahomed Khan, not to disturb the Peshawur frontier during the Mutiny.

CHAPTER XXIV

1865–1868. CALCUTTA. PORTSMOUTH

Ahmed oola Khan – Seeta Khoond – Experimental sanatorium – Parisnath – India in Greece – Bhootan – Electric telegraph – Sickly season – My illness – Ootacamund – Todas – Climatic notes – Bangalore – Fort – Health unrestored – Benares – Temples – Sitala – Sarnath – Infants’ grave – Sanitary Commission ceased – Again on sick leave – Cinchona Inquiry – A railway journey – Bank failure – Events – The Buffs arrive – Sanitary works – Expedition to Abyssinia – The struggle for existence – The Jumna– The Euphrates– Hurricane – Departure – Trincomalee – Aden – Suez – Docks “created” – Egyptian troops – Grand Shaloof – Gardens – Freshwater Canal – Ancient baths – Moses’ Wells – Pyramids of Ghizeh – Sphynx – Temple – Desert cold – Portsmouth.

Visiting Patna in the course of duty, I was present in the court of the magistrate while Ahmed oola Khan, the suspected originator of the Sittana rebellion, was undergoing preliminary examination on a charge of sedition. For thirty years he had been suspected; yet he held a high position under the Indian Government, at one time as a member of the Board of Instruction, then a member of the Municipal Commission, and lastly a Commissioner of the Income Tax. During the Mutiny the Local Commissioner had reason to doubt his fidelity, and reported to Government the grounds upon which his suspicions were founded, the only result as stated at the time being censure for having given expression to them.

An official visit to Monghyr gave me the opportunity of driving to Seeta Khoond, in the near vicinity of that place. The spring so named has a temperature of 180° F., and is one of several in this part of India; but chiefly interesting in that the high priest of the temple connected therewith repeated to us its legendary association with the story of Rama and Seeta,251 in terms very similar to what a few days before I had read in a compressed edition of the Ramayana. Here then is the record transmitted traditionally through many generations of a more or less mythical event, the date of which considerably preceded that of Homer.

As an experiment, barracks for a small number of British soldiers were erected on the summit of Parisnath, in the hope that its elevation of 4,530 feet above sea level might exert a favourable influence on their health. A narrow pathway had recently been cut through the forest252 by which the hill is covered. Ascending by it we traverse several precipitous ridges, between which deep and thickly wooded valleys intervene. Voices of many birds are heard as we proceed; among them the crow of jungle cock and scream of the coel;253 black squirrels and lungoors dash rapidly from branch to branch, downwards into the forest beneath us.

Parisnath is the Sinai of the Jains.254 On its summit are twenty-two temples pertaining to that sect, the largest consecrated to their chief deity, Parisnath, whence the name of the hill. Numerous pilgrims visit the shrines, more especially in the month of Poos, or November.

There are those who believe – with what measure of authority I know not – that an immigrant tribe from the vicinity of the hill in question having settled in ancient Greece, transferred the name of their sacred mountain to “Parnassus.”255 The legend may be on a par with that in accordance with which the name of Sevastopol is made to signify “The Place of Siva.”

For some time past unpleasantness had been breeding with regard to Bhootan; endeavours were made to come to a peaceful understanding with the chiefs concerned, but these having ended in failure, the dispatch thither of a military expedition was resolved on.256 In the early part of the cold season a combined force of British and native troops was equipped, and proceeded on service to that territory, a chief reason for sending white troops being a report that considerable misconduct on the part of sepoys at Dewangiri had reached the authorities, the circumstance furnishing a suggestive commentary on action recently taken to materially increase the native army.

On March 4 an event occurred which, in its importance to India, should be mentioned: the first direct telegraphic message from London was delivered in Calcutta, it having taken three days to reach its destination. As a painful coincidence, Colonel Stewart, to whom the public are indebted for the completion of that undertaking, died just as the work had been finished. Hitherto the telegrams received came through several lines.

The hot season this year set in unusually early; it was severe and protracted, sickness and death making havoc among all classes of foreigners, more especially our soldiers. Medical officers, like others, were prostrated in great numbers, the result being that those who remained fit for duty had much extra work thrown upon them. The establishment in India being so closely kept down so as to meet only ordinary requirements, it is inadequate when the demands become considerable, whether on account of epidemic or field service.

In July duty took me to Hazarabagh. The rains were on, the roads soft, and in many places submerged. On my return journey, detention for several hours at night in dense jungle was occasioned by the Siranee River being in flood, and impassable. The result of that exposure was a severe attack of illness, by which for two months I was prostrated and altogether incapacitated for work. Having hitherto avoided making an application for privilege leave, I now submitted such a request, but with the unlooked-for result that it met with a refusal – the fact that it did so illustrating the attitude of departmental seniors towards their juniors in those days. With reluctance I felt under the necessity of applying for a medical certificate, on which, as a matter of course, I obtained leave of absence.

At the time referred to, the Neilgherry hills were more get-at-able from Calcutta than were the Himalayahs; our257 means of transit, by steamer to Madras, train thence to Coimbatore, bullock bandy or cart to Metapollium, hammock or pony to Ootacamund. The ascent of the ghat presents a succession of strikingly beautiful views, precipitous cliffs, mountain ascents clothed by dense forest, deep valley and shola thickly wooded, rushing streams and small cascades. Arrived at Coonoor, 6,000 feet above sea level, the temperature becomes mild; hedges chiefly composed of geraniums and roses; fruit trees, orchards, and gardens, all in full bearing, meet the eye. In front of us a succession of grass-covered “downs” appear, their general aspect completely different from that presented by Himalayan sanatoria. In due time “Ooty” is reached, but a severe attack of ague while riding up the ghat rendered the latter part of the journey the reverse of pleasant.