Twelve Years of a Soldier's Life in India
by W. S. R. Hodson · English · Gutenberg #39448 · 810,614 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: Twelve Years of a Soldier's Life in India
Author: W. S. R. Hodson
Author of introduction, etc.: Thomas Hughes
Editor: George H. Hodson
Release date: April 14, 2012 [eBook #39448]
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/39448
Credits: Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
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*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWELVE YEARS OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE IN INDIA ***
Produced by Melissa McDaniel and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive)
Transcriber's Note:
Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the original document have
been preserved. Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
TWELVE YEARS
OF A
SOLDIER'S LIFE IN INDIA.
If a soldier,
Chase brave employments with a naked sword
Throughout the world. Fool not; for all may have,
If they dare try, a glorious life or grave.
TWELVE YEARS
OF A
SOLDIER'S LIFE IN INDIA:
BEING EXTRACTS FROM THE LETTERS
OF THE LATE
MAJOR W. S. R. HODSON, B. A.
TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE;
FIRST BENGAL EUROPEAN FUSILEERS, COMMANDANT OF HODSON'S HORSE.
INCLUDING
A PERSONAL NARRATIVE OF THE SIEGE OF DELHI
AND CAPTURE OF THE KING AND PRINCES.
EDITED BY HIS BROTHER,
THE REV. GEORGE H. HODSON, M. A.
SENIOR FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE.
FROM THE THIRD AND ENLARGED ENGLISH EDITION.
BOSTON:
TICKNOR AND FIELDS.
M DCCC LX.
RIVERSIDE, CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
H. O. HOUGHTON AND COMPANY.
[The following paper, by the author of "Tom Brown's School Days at
Rugby," appeared in "Fraser's Magazine:"--]
The heart of England has not, within the memory of living men, been so
deeply moved as by the Indian rebellion of 1857. It was a time of real
agony,--the waiting, week after week, for those scanty despatches,
which, when they came, and lay before us in the morning papers, with
huge capitals at the top of the column, we scarcely dared take up, we
could not read without a strong effort of the will. What it must have
been to those of us whose sisters, brothers, sons, were then in the
Northwest Provinces, they alone can tell; but of the rest we do
believe there was scarce a man who did not every now and then feel a
cold sinking of heart, a sense of shame at his inability to help, a
longing to make some sacrifice of money, ease, or what not, whereby to
lift, if it might be, a portion of the dead weight from off his own
soul. By degrees came the light. As the trial had been, so had been
the strength. The white squall was past; and though that great and
terrible deluge still heaved and tossed, we began to catch sight of
one and another brave ship riding it out. Our pulses beat quick and
our eyes dimmed as we heard and read how the little band of our
kindred had turned to bay, in tale after tale of heroic daring and
self-sacrificing and saintly endurance and martyrdom. The traces here
and there of weakness and indecision only brought out more clearly the
soundness and strength of the race which was on its trial; and from
amongst the thousands who were nobly doing their duty, one man after
another stood out and drew to himself the praise, the gratitude, and
the love of the whole nation. In all her long and stern history,
England can point to no nobler sons than these, the heroes of India in
1857. Thank God, many of them are left to us; but the contest was for
the life itself, the full price had to be paid, and one after another
the heroes paid it. Some fell, full of years and honors, whom the
mutiny found with names already famous; others in their glorious
mid-day strength; others fresh from England, in the first daring years
of early youth; of all ranks and professions,--generals, governors,
cadets, missionaries, civilians, private soldiers; but each heard the
call and obeyed it faithfully, loving not his own life; and we believe
that even in this hurrying, bewildering, forgetful age, England and
Englishmen will not let the name of one of them die.
At any rate, there is little chance that the subject of this paper
will be forgotten by his countrymen, for not only has he carved out
with his sword a name for himself which knows few equals even in
Indian story, but he has left materials which have enabled his brother
to put together one of the best biographies in our language.
_Twelve Years of a Soldier's Life in India_ is the history of the
career of Hodson of Hodson's Horse, the captor of the King of Delhi,
compiled from private letters written to different members of his
family.
To the book itself, as a literary work, high praise may be awarded.
There are four pages only which we could wish omitted; we mean those
(from p. 432 to p. 436) which contain the extracts from newspapers.
Able leading article writers and special correspondents, who as soon
as the firing is over, bustle up to battle-fields where their
country's noblest are dying, and sit down to catch the tale of every
_claqueur_, and spin the whole into thrilling periods, doubtless have
their use, and their productions are highly valued,--or, at any rate,
are highly paid for,--by the British public. The extracts in question
are favorable specimens, on the whole, of such commodities. But Hodson
has no need of them, and they jar on one's soul at the end of such a
book. With this exception, the book is a model of its kind. There is
not a word too much of the letters; in fact, we long for more of them,
while confessing that no additional number could bring the man or his
career more livingly before us; and the editor has, with rare tact,
given us just what was needed of supplementary narrative, and no more,
and has shown himself a high-minded gentleman and Christian by his
forbearance in suppressing the names of the men who enviously and
wickedly persecuted his brother. In a charming little preface he
compares that brother to Fernando Perez, the hero of the later Spanish
ballads, and then seems to doubt whether affection may not have
biassed his judgment. We think we may reassure him on this point. The
career of the Indian Captain of Irregulars may fairly challenge
comparison with that of Fernando Perez or any other hero of romance,
and we may well apply to the Englishman, lying in the death chamber at
Lucknow, the poet's touching farewell to the peerless knight
Durandarte, stretched on the bloody sward at Roncesvalles,--
"Kind in manners, fair in favor,
Mild in temper, fierce in fight;
Warrior nobler, gentler, braver,
Never shall behold the light."
But it is time for us to turn from the book to the man, and we think
our readers will thank us for giving them the best picture which our
space will allow of him and his work, as nearly as may be in his own
words; only begging them to bear in mind that these letters were
written in the strictest confidence to his nearest relations, and that
so far from wishing to make his own deeds known during his life, he
resolutely refused to allow his letters to be made public.
William Stephen Raikes Hodson, third son of the Archdeacon of
Stafford, was born in March, 1821, and went, when fourteen years old,
to Rugby, where he stayed for more than four years, two of which were
spent in the sixth form under Arnold. At school he was a bright,
pleasant boy, fond of fun, and with abilities decidedly above the
average, but of no very marked distinction, except as a runner; in
which exercise, however, he was almost unequalled, and showed great
powers of endurance. None of his old schoolfellows have been surprised
to hear of his success as the head of the Intelligence Department of
an army, or of his marvellous marches and appearances in impossible
places as Captain of Irregular Horse. Such performances only carry us
back to first calling over, when we used to see him come in splashed
and hot, and to hear his cheery "Old fellow! I've been to Brinklow
since dinner." But, as a boy, he was not remarkable for physical
strength or courage, and none of us would have foretold that he would
become one of the most daring and successful swordsmen in the Indian
army. We only mention the fact, because it is of great importance that
the truth in this matter, which the lives of Hodson and others have
established, should be as widely acknowledged as possible. A man born
without any natural defect can, in this as in other respects, make his
own character; no man need be a coward who _will_ not be one; and a
high purpose steadfastly kept in view will, in the end, help a man to
the doing of nobler deeds of daring than any amount of natural
combativeness.
From Rugby he went to Trinity, Cambridge, where he took his degree in
1844; but, fortunately for his country, and (let us own it, hard as it
is as yet to do so) for himself also, a constitutional tendency to
headache led him to choose the army rather than a learned profession.
After a short service in the Guernsey militia, which he entered to
escape superannuation, he got a cadetship, and embarked for India. Sir
William Napier, then Governor of Guernsey, gave him a letter to his
brother, Sir Charles, and himself wrote of him, "I think he will be an
acquisition to any service. His education, his ability, his zeal to
make himself acquainted with military matters, gave me the greatest
satisfaction during his service with the militia." His brother's
letter never was presented to Sir Charles Napier, as we infer from the
passage at p. 156, where it is mentioned again, "I didn't show him his
brother's letter," writes Hodson in 1850, "that he might judge for
himself first, and know me 'per se,' or rather 'per me.' I will,
however, if ever I see him again." He never saw Sir Charles again; but
what a glimpse of the man's character we get from these few lines.
On the 13th of September, 1845, Hodson landed in India, and went up
country at once to Agra. Here he found the Hon. James Thomason,
Lieutenant-Governor of the Northwest Provinces, a family friend and
connection, with whom he stayed till November 2d, when he was
appointed to do duty with the 2d Grenadiers, and began his military
career as part of the escort of the Governor-General, who was on his
way to the Punjab. In that quarter a black cloud had gathered, which
it was high time should be looked after.
Hodson, however, marches on, all unconscious, and his first letters
give no hint of coming battle, but contain a charmingly graphic
description of the life of an Indian army on march. Here, too, in the
very outset, we find that rare virtue of making the best of everything
peeping out, which so strongly characterized him.
"It is a sudden change of temperature, truly,--from near
freezing at starting, to 90 deg. or 100 deg. at arriving. It _sounds
hot_, but a tent at 84 deg. is tolerably endurable, especially
if there is a breeze."
At Umbala, he attends a grand muster of troops, and sees the
Irregulars for the first time.
"The quiet-looking and English-dressed Hindoo troopers
strangely contrasted with the wild Irregulars in all the
fanciful _un_uniformity of their native costume: yet these
last are the men _I_ fancy for service."
This was on the 2d of December. On Christmas-day he writes:--
"I have been in four general engagements of the most
formidable kind ever known in India. On the 10th, on our
usual quiet march we were surprised by being joined by an
additional regiment, and by an order for all non-soldiers to
return to Umbala."
Then comes the description of forced marches, and battles which one
feels were won,--and that was all. The same story everywhere as to the
Sepoys; at Moodkee,
"Our Sepoys could not be got to face the tremendous fire of
the Sikh artillery, and as usual, the more they quailed the
more the English officers exposed themselves in vain efforts
to bring them on.... At Ferozeshah on the evening of the
21st, as we rushed towards the guns in the most dense dust
and smoke, and under an unprecedented fire of grape, our
Sepoys again gave way and broke. It was a fearful crisis,
but the bravery of the English regiments saved us. A ball
struck my leg below the knee, but happily spared the bone. I
was also knocked down twice,--once by a shell bursting so
close to me as to kill the men behind me, and once by the
explosion of a magazine. The wound in my leg is nothing, as
you may judge when I tell you that I was on foot or
horseback the whole of the two following days.... No efforts
could bring the Sepoys forward, or half the loss might have
been spared, had they rushed on with the bayonet.... Just as
we were going into action, I stumbled on poor Carey, whom
you may remember to have heard of at Price's at Rugby. On
going over the field on the 30th, I found the body actually
cut to pieces by the keen swords of the Sikhs, and but for
his clothes could not have recognized him. I had him carried
into camp for burial, poor fellow, extremely shocked at the
sudden termination of our renewed acquaintance.... I enjoyed
all, and entered into it with great zest, till we came to
actual blows, or rather, I am (_now_) half ashamed to say,
till the blows were over, and I saw the horrible scenes
which ensue on war. I have had quite enough of such sights
now, and hope it may not be my lot to be exposed to them
again.... We are resting comfortably in our tents, and had a
turkey for our Christmas dinner." (pp. 66, 67, 68, 69.)
In the next letter the fight at Sobraon is described:--
"On we went as usual in the teeth of a dreadful fire of guns
and musketry, and after a desperate struggle we got within
their _triple_ and _quadruple_ intrenchments; and then their
day of reckoning came indeed. Driven from trench to trench,
and surrounded on all sides, they retired, fighting most
bravely, to the river, into which they were driven pellmell,
a tremendous fire of musketry pouring on them from our bank,
and the Horse Artillery finishing their destruction with
grape. I had the pleasure myself of spiking two guns which
were turned on us."
A rough baptism of war, this, for a young soldier! No wonder that when
the excitement is over, for the moment he thinks he "has had enough of
such sights." But the poetry of battle has entered into him, witness
this glorious sketch of a deed done by the 80th Queen's
(Staffordshire).
"I lay between them and my present regiment (1st E. B.
Fusiliers) on the night of the 21st of December, at
Ferozeshah, when Lord Hardinge called out '80th! that gun
must be silenced.' They jumped up, formed into line, and
advanced through the black darkness silently and firmly;
gradually we lost the sound of their tread, and anxiously
listened for the slightest intimation of their
progress;--all was still for five minutes, while they
gradually gained the front of the battery whose fire had
caused us so much loss. Suddenly we heard a dropping
fire,--a blaze of the Sikh cannon followed, then a thrilling
cheer from the 80th, accompanied by a rattling and murderous
volley as they sprang upon the battery and spiked the
monster gun. In a few more minutes they moved back quietly,
and lay down as before on the cold sand; but they had left
forty-five of their number and two captains to mark the
scene of their exploit by their graves."
And so in another month, when the war is over and the army on its
return, he "catches himself wishing and asking for more."
"Is it not marvellous, as if one had not had a surfeit of
killing? But the truth is _that_ is not the motive, but a
sort of undefined ambition.... I remember bursting into
tears in sheer rage in the midst of the fight at Sobraon at
seeing our soldiers lying killed and wounded."
His first campaign is over, and he goes into cantonments. The chief
impression left on his mind is extreme disappointment with the state
of the Sepoy regiments, which he expresses to Mr. Thomason:--
"In discipline and subordination they seem to be lamentably
deficient, especially towards the native commissioned and
non-commissioned officers. On the march, I have found these
last give me more trouble than the men even. My brother
officers say that I see an unfavorable specimen in the 2d,
as regards discipline, owing to their frequent service of
late, and the number of recruits; but I fear the evil is
very wide-spread. It may no doubt be traced mainly to the
want of European officers. This, however, is an evil not
likely to be removed on any large scale. Meantime, unless
some vigorous and radical improvements take place, I think
our position will be very uncertain and even alarming in the
event of extended hostilities. You must really forgive my
speaking so plainly, and writing my own opinions so freely.
You encouraged me to do so when I was at Agra, if you
remember, and I value the privilege too highly as connected
with the greater one of receiving advice and counsel from
you, not to exercise it, even at the risk of your thinking
me presumptuous and hasty in my opinions."
Acting upon these impressions, he applies for and obtains an exchange
into the 1st Bengal Europeans, in which he is eighth second-lieutenant
at the age of twenty-five, the junior in rank of boys of eighteen and
nineteen. He feels that he has difficult cards to play, but resolves
to make the best of everything, and regrets only "that the men who are
to support the name and power of England in Asia are sent out here at
an age when, neither by education nor reflection can they have learnt
all, or even a fraction of what those words mean. It would be a happy
thing for India and for themselves, if all came out here at a more
advanced age than now, but _one_ alone breaking through the custom in
that respect made and provided, must not expect to escape the usual
fate, or at least the usual annoyances, of innovators."
At this point an opening, of which he was just the man to make the
most, occurs. Mr. Thomason writes to Colonel, afterwards Sir Henry,
Lawrence, the new political agent at Lahore, introducing Hodson; and
at once a friendship, founded on mutual appreciation, springs up
between the two, to end only with their lives. The agent manages to
have the young soldier constantly in his office, and to get all sorts
of work out of him. As a reward, he takes him on an expedition into
Cashmere, in the autumn of 1846, whither they accompany the forces of
Gholab Singh, to whom the country had been ceded by treaty. The
letters from Cashmere on this occasion, and again in 1850, when he
accompanied Sir Henry on a second trip to Cashmere and Thibet, are
like nothing in the world but an Arabian Night which we feel to be
true. The chiefs, the priests, the monasteries, the troops, the
glorious country so misused by man, the wretched people, an English
lady, young and pretty, travelling all alone in the wildest part on
pony-back, all pass before us in a series of living photographs. We
have room, however, for one quotation only:--
"The women are atrociously ugly, and screech like the
witches in _Macbeth_,--so much so, that when the agent asked
me to give them a rupee or two, I felt it my duty to refuse,
firmly but respectfully, on the ground that it would be
encouraging ugliness.
"I am the luckiest dog unhung (he concludes) to have got
into Cashmere. I fancy I am the first officer of our army
who has been here save the few who have come officially."
Colonel Lawrence was not the man to let his young friend's powers of
work rust, so on their return we find Hodson set to build the famous
Hill Asylum for white children at Subathoo.
We may as well notice at once, in this early stage of his career, the
man's honest training of himself in all ways, great and small, to take
his place, and do his work in his world-battle; how he faces all
tasks, however unwonted, ill-paid, or humble, which seem to be
helpful; how he casts off all habits, however pleasant or harmless,
which may prove hindrances. And this he does with no parade or fine
sentiment, but simply, almost unconsciously, often with a sort of
apology which is humorously pathetic. For example, when set to work on
the Asylum, he writes:--
"Colonel Lawrence seems determined I shall have nothing to
stop me, for his invariable reply to every question is, 'Act
on your own judgment,' 'Do what you think right,' 'I give
you _carte blanche_ to act in my name, and draw on my
funds,' and so forth."
Which confidence is worthily bestowed. Hodson sets to work, forgetting
all professional etiquette, and giving up society for the time.
"Cutting trees down, getting lime burnt, bricks made, planks
sawn up, the ground got ready, and then watching the work
foot by foot; showing this "nigger" how to lay his bricks,
another the proper proportions of a beam, another the
construction of a door, and to the several artisans the
mysteries of a screw, a nail, a hinge. You cannot say to a
man, 'Make me a wall or a door,' but you must, with your own
hands, measure out his work, teach him to saw away here, to
plane there, or drive such a nail, or insinuate such a
suspicion of glue. And when it comes to be considered that
this is altogether new work to me, and has to be excuded by
cogitation on the spot, so as to give an answer to every
inquirer, you may understand the amount of personal exertion
and attention required for the work."
Again, a few months later, November, 1847,--
"I am in a high queer-looking native house among the ruins
of this old stronghold of the Pathans, with orders 'to make
a good road from Lahore to the Sutlej, distance forty
miles,' in as brief a space as possible. On the
willing-to-be-generally-useful principle, this is all very
well, and one gets used to turning one's hand to everything,
but certainly (but for circumstances over which I had no
control) I always labored under the impression that I knew
nothing at all about the matter. However, Colonel Lawrence
walked into my room promiscuously one morning, and said,
'Oh, Hodson, we have agreed that you must take in hand the
road to Ferozepore. You can start in a day or two;' and
_here I am_."
Again, in January, 1848, he has been sent out surveying.
"My present _role_ is to survey a part of the country lying
along the left bank of the Ravee and below the hills, and I
am daily and all day at work with compasses and chain, pen
and pencil, following streams, diving into valleys,
burrowing into hills, to complete my work. I need hardly
remark, that, having never attempted anything of the kind
hitherto, it is bothering at first."
Again, in April, 1848, he has been set to hear all manner of cases,
civil, criminal, and revenue, in the Lahore Court.
"The duty is of vast importance, and I sometimes feel a half
sensation of modesty at being set down to administer justice
in such matters so early, and without previous training. A
little practice, patience, and reflection, settle most cases
to one's satisfaction however; and one must be content with
substantial justice as distinguished from technical law."
Again, in a letter to his brother,--
"Did I tell you, by-the-bye, that I abjured tobacco when I
left England, and that I have never been tempted by even a
night's _al fresco_ to resume the delusive habit? Nor have I
told you (because I despaired of your believing it) that I
have declined from the paths of virtue in respect of beer
also, these two years past, seldom or never tasting that
once idolized stimulant!"
We have no space to comment; and can only hope that any gallant young
oarsman or cricketer bound for India who may read this, will have the
courage to follow Hodson's example, if he finds himself the better for
abstinence, notwithstanding the fascination of the drink itself, and
the cherished associations which twine round the pewter. My dear
boys, remember, as Hodson did, that if you are to get on well in India
it will be owing, physically speaking, to your digestions.
These glimpses will enable the reader to picture to himself how
Hodson, now Assistant to the Resident at Lahore, as well as second in
command of the Guides, was spending his time between the first and the
final Sikh war. Let him throw in this description of the duties of
"The Guides":--
"The grand object of the corps is to train a body of men in
peace to be efficient in war; to be not only acquainted with
localities, roads, rivers, hills, ferries, and passes, but
have a good idea of the produce and supplies available in
any part of the country; to give _accurate_ information, not
running open-mouthed to say that 10,000 horsemen and a
thousand guns are coming, (in true native style,) but to
stop to see whether it may not really be only a common cart
and a few wild horsemen who are kicking up all the dust; to
call twenty-five by its right name, and not say _fifty_ for
short, as most natives do. This of course wants a great deal
of careful instruction and attention. Beyond this, the
officers should give a tolerably correct sketch and report
of any country through which they may pass, be _au fait_ at
routes and means of feeding troops, and above all (and here
you come close upon political duties) keep an eye on the
doings of the neighbors, and the state of the country, so as
to be able to give such information as may lead to any
outbreak being nipped in the bud."
The reader will probably now be of opinion that the young lieutenant,
willing to make himself generally useful, and given to locomotion,
will be not unlikely to turn out a very tough nut for the Sikhs to
crack when they have quite made up their minds to risk another fight;
and that time is rapidly drawing near. All through the spring and
early summer months there are tumults and risings, which tell of a
wide conspiracy. Hodson, after a narrow escape of accompanying Agnew
to Mooltan, is scouring the country backwards and forwards, catching
rebels and picking up news. In September, the Sikhs openly join the
rebel Moolraj. General Whish is obliged to raise the siege of Mooltan;
the grand struggle between the cow-killers and cow-worshippers on the
banks of the Chenab has begun.
We wish we had space to follow Hodson and his Guides through the
series of daring exploits by which the Doab was cleared, and which so
enraged the Sikhs that "party after party were sent to polish me off,
and at one time I couldn't stir about the country without having
bullets sent at my head from every bush and wall." He was attached to
Wheeler's brigade during the greater part of the struggle, but joined
the army of the Punjaub in time for the battle of Gujerat, which
finished the war, and at which he and Lumsden his commander, and Lake
of the Engineers, are mentioned in Lord Gough's despatch as most
active in conveying orders throughout the action. We cannot however
resist one story. The old Brigadier, making all haste to join the
grand army, where he expects to get a division, leaves two forts at
Kulallwala and 4000 unbeaten rebels in his rear. He is ordered back to
account for them, whereupon Brigadier turns sulky. Hodson urges him to
move on like lightning and crush them, but "he would not, and began to
make short marches, so I was compelled to outmanoeuvre him by a bold
stroke." Accordingly he starts with 100 of his Guides, when
twenty-five miles from Kulallwala, and fairly frightens a doubtful
sirdar, "preparing munitions of war, mounting guns, and looking
saucy," out of his fort. Whereupon the Sikhs abandon a neighboring
fort, and the road to Kulallwala is open without a shot fired.
"In the morning I marched with my little party towards the
enemy, sending back a messenger to the Brigadier to say that
I was close to the place, and that if he did not come on
sharp they would run away or overwhelm me. He was dreadfully
angry, but came on like a good boy! When within a mile or so
of the fort, I halted my party to allow his column to get up
nearer, and as soon as I could see it, moved on quietly. The
_ruse_ told to perfection: thinking they had only 100 men
and myself to deal with, the Sikhs advanced in strength,
thirty to one, to meet me, with colors flying and drums
beating. Just then a breeze sprung up, the dust blew aside,
and the long line of horsemen coming on rapidly behind my
party burst upon their senses. They turned instantly, and
made for the fort; so, leaving my men to advance quietly
after them, I galloped up to the Brigadier, pointed out the
flying Sikhs, explained their position, and begged him to
charge them. He melted from his wrath, and told two
regiments of Irregulars to follow my guidance. On we went
at the gallop, cut in amongst the fugitives, and punished
them fearfully."
"The Brigadier has grown quite active, and _very fond of me_ since
that day at Kulallwala, though he had the wit to see how brown I had
done him by making him march two marches in one." It is certainly to
the Brigadier's credit that he does seem to have appreciated his
provoking "Guide," for he mentions him in the highest terms in
despatch after despatch, and at the close of the war comforts him
thus: "Had your name been Hay or Ramsay, no honors, no appointments,
no distinctions would have been considered too great to mark the
services you have rendered to Government."
The war ended, the Punjaub is annexed, and Hodson with it, who loses
all his appointments and returns to "the Guides."
He feels sore of course at the loss of his occupation and position,
but sticks to his drill-sergeant's work now that there is nothing
higher to do, and pities from his heart the dozens of regimental
officers at Peshawur who have not an hour's work in two days. It is a
recently formed station, with a flying column of 10,000 men there for
the hot months, and no books or society; "people are pitched headlong
on to their own resources, and find them very hard falling indeed."
The first Sikh war had opened Hodson's eyes as to the merits of the
Sepoys; the second makes him moralize much about the system of
promotion.
He concludes that for war, especially in India, "your leaders must be
young to be effective," in which sentiment we heartily agree;--but how
to get them? "There are men of iron, like Napier and Radetzky, aged
men whom nothing affects; but they are just in sufficient numbers to
prove the rule by establishing exceptions." And would not the
following be ludicrous, but that men's lives are in the balance?
"A brigadier of infantry, under whom I served during the
three most critical days of the late war, could not see his
regiment when I led his horse by the bridle until its nose
touched the bayonets; and even then he said faintly, 'Pray
which way are the men facing, Mr. Hodson?' This is no
exaggeration, I assure you. Can you wonder that our troops
have to recover by desperate fighting, and with heavy loss,
the advantages thrown away by the want of heads and eyes to
lead them?
"A seniority service, like that of the Company, is all very
well for poor men; better still for fools, for they must
rise equally with wise men; but for maintaining the
discipline and efficiency of the army in time of peace, and
hurling it on the enemy in war, there never was a system
which carried so many evils on its front and face."
His fast friend, Sir Henry Lawrence, again intervenes, and he is
appointed an Assistant Commissioner, leaving the Guides for a time.
In this capacity, in April, 1850, he comes across the new
Commander-in-Chief:--
"I have just spent three days in Sir Charles Napier's camp,
it being my duty to accompany him through such parts of the
civil district as he may have occasion to visit. He was most
kind and cordial; vastly amusing and interesting, and gave
me even a higher opinion of him than before. To be sure, his
language and mode of expressing himself savor more of the
last than of this century--of the camp than of the court;
but barring these eccentricities, he is a wonderful man; his
heart is as thoroughly in his work, and he takes as high a
tone in all that concerns it, as Arnold did in his; that is
to say, the highest the subject is capable of. I only trust
he will remain with us as long as his health lasts, and
endeavor to rouse the army from the state of slack
discipline into which it has fallen. On my parting with him
he said, 'Now, remember, Hodson, if there is any way in
which I can be of use to you, pray don't scruple to write to
me.'"
After working in the Civil Service, chiefly in the Cis-Sutlej
Provinces, for nearly two years, under Mr. Edmonstone, he is promoted
to the command of the Guides on Lumsden's return to England. The wild
frontier district of Euzofzai is handed over to him, where
"I am military as well as civil chief; and the natural taste
of the Euzofzai Pathans for broken heads, murder, and
violence, as well as their litigiousness about their lands,
keeps me very hard at work from day to day."
Here he settles with his newly married wife, "the most fortunate man
in the service; and have I not a right to call myself the happiest
also, with such a wife and such a home?"
For nearly three years he rules this province, building a large fort
for his regiment, fighting all marauders from the hills, training his
men in all ways, even to practising their own sports with them.
"William is very clever" his wife writes "at this," cutting
an orange, placed on a bamboo, in two, at full speed,
"rarely failing. He is grievously overworked; still his
health is wonderfully good, and his spirits as wild as if he
were a boy again. He is never so well pleased as when he has
the baby in his arms."
Yes, the baby,--for now comes in a little episode of home and family,
a gentle and bright gem in the rough setting of the soldier's life;
and the tender and loving father and husband stands before us as
vividly as the daring border-leader.
"You would so delight in her baby tricks," he writes to his
father. "The young lady already begins to show a singularity
of taste--refusing to go to the arms of any native women,
and decidedly preferring the male population, some of whom
are distinguished by her special favor. Her own orderly,
save the mark, never tires of looking at her 'beautiful
white fingers,' nor she of twisting them into his black
beard,--an insult to an Oriental, which he bears with an
equanimity equal to his fondness for her. The cunning
fellows have begun to make use of her too, and when they
want anything, ask the favor in the name of Lilli Baba (they
cannot manage 'Olivia' at all). They know the spell is
potent."
But for the particulars of life in the wilderness, we must refer our
readers to Mrs. Hodson's letters (pp. 197-200). This happiness was not
destined to last. In July, 1854, the child dies.
"The deep agony of this bereavement I have no words to
describe," the father writes. "She had wound her little
being round our hearts to an extent which we neither of us
knew until we awoke from the brief dream of beauty, and
found ourselves childless."
Another trial too is at hand. In the autumn of 1854, Sir H. Lawrence
is removed from the Punjaub, and in October, charges are trumped up
(there is no other word for it, looking to the result) against Hodson,
in both his civil and military capacity. A court of inquiry is
appointed; and _before_ that court has reported, he is suspended from
all civil and military duty.
Into the details of the charges against him we will not enter, lest we
should be tempted into the use of hard words, which his brother has
nobly refrained from. All that need be stated is, that the sting lay
in the alleged confusion of his regimental accounts. The Court of
Inquiry appointed Major Taylor to examine these, and report on them.
This was in January, 1855; in February, 1856, Taylor presented an
elaborate report, wholly exculpating Hodson. Mr. Montgomery, (then
Commissioner for the Punjaub, now Chief Commissioner in Oude,) to whom
it was submitted, calls it the most satisfactory report he ever read,
and most triumphant. This report, however, though made public on the
spot, had not, even in May, 1857, been communicated to the Government
of India; whether suppressed on purpose, or not, there is no evidence.
But when at last fairly brought to their notice by a remonstrance from
the accused, the satisfactory nature of the document may be gathered
from the fact that the answer is, "his remonstrance will be placed on
record for preservation, not for justification, which it is fully
admitted was not required,--no higher testimonials were ever
produced."
It is with the man himself that we are concerned. We have seen him in
action, and in prosperity; how will he face disgrace and disaster?--
"I must endeavor to face the wrong, the grievous, foul
wrong, with a constant and unshaken heart, and to endure
humiliation and disgrace with as much equanimity as I may;
and with the same soldierlike fortitude with which I ought
to face danger, suffering, and death in the path of duty....
Our darling babe was taken from us on the day my public
misfortunes began, and death has robbed us of our father
before their end. The brain-pressure was almost too much for
me.... I strive to look the worst boldly in the face as I
would an enemy in the field, and to do my appointed work
resolutely and to the best of my ability, satisfied that
there is a reason for all; and that even irksome duties well
done bring their own reward, and that if not, still they are
duties....
"It is pleasant to find that not a man who knows me has any
belief that there has been anything wrong.... Not one of
them all (and, indeed, I believe I might include my worst
foes and accusers in the category) believes that I have
committed any more than errors of judgment."
Thus he writes to brother and sister; and, for the rest, goes back
resolutely to his old regiment, and begins again the common routine of
a subaltern's duties, congratulating himself that the colonel wishes
to give him the adjutancy, in which post
"I shall have the opportunity of learning a good deal of
work which will be useful to me, and of doing, I hope, a
good deal of good amongst the men. It will be the first step
up the ladder again, after tumbling to the bottom."
The colonel gets him to take the office of quartermaster, however, not
the adjutancy, the former office "having fallen into great disorder;"
and in January, 1857, the honest old officer, of his own accord,
writes a letter to the Adjutant-General, requesting him to submit to
the Commander-in-Chief "that, his public record and acknowledgment of
the essential service Lieutenant Hodson has done the regiment at his
special request;" and urging on his Excellency to find some worthier
employment for the said lieutenant. In the same tone writes Brigadier
Johnstone, commanding at Umbala, through whom the colonel's letter had
to be forwarded; and who "trusts his Excellency will allow of his
submitting it in a more special and marked manner than by merely
countersigning; for," goes on the General, "Lieutenant Hodson has,
with patience, perseverance, and zeal, undertaken and carried out the
laborious minor duties of the regimental staff, as well as those of a
company; and with a diligence, method, and accuracy, such as the best
trained regimental officers have never surpassed."
We sympathize entirely with the editor, when he bursts out, "I know
nothing in my brother's whole career more truly admirable, or showing
more real heroism, than his conduct at this period, while battling
with adverse fates."
But there was now no need of letters from generals or colonels
(however acceptable such testimonies might be in themselves) to
restore Hodson to his proper position, for the mutterings of the great
eruption are already beginning to be heard, and the ground is heaving
under the feet of the English in India.
"We are in a state of some anxiety, owing to the spread of a
very serious spirit of disaffection among the Sepoy army. It
is our great danger in India, and Lord Hardinge's prophecy,
that our biggest fight in India would be with our own army,
seems not unlikely to be realized, and that before long.
Native papers, education, and progress, are against keeping
200,000 native mercenaries in hand."
This is not the exact time a sane Commander-in-Chief, looking about
for helpful persons, should choose for letting a certain Lieutenant
Hodson, lately under a cloud, but, we hear, a smart officer, and of
great knowledge concerning, and influence with natives, out of our
reach. So thinks General Anson about the 5th of May, 1857, when
Hodson, out of all patience at finding that Taylor's report has never
reached the authorities at Calcutta, applies to him for leave to go to
Calcutta to clear himself. However, by this time the ill-used
lieutenant can afford to joke about his own misfortunes, and writes,--
"There were clearly three courses open to me, 'a la Sir
Robert Peel.'
"1st. Suicide.
"2d. To resign the service in disgust, and join the enemy.
"3d. To make the Governor-General eat his words, and
apologize.
"I chose the last.
"The first was too melodramatic and foreign; the second
would have been a triumph to my foes in the Punjaub;
besides, the enemy might have been beaten!
"I have determined, therefore, on a trip to Calcutta."
Wherefore General Anson has interviews with this outrageous
lieutenant; is "most polite, even cordial," and "while approving of my
idea of going down to Calcutta, and thinking it plucky to undertake a
journey of two thousand five hundred miles in such weather," thinks "I
had better wait till I hear again from him, for he will himself write
to Lord Canning, and try to get justice done me."
In six days from this time India is in a blaze.
With the news of the outbreak come orders to the 1st European
Fusileers to move down to Umbala, on the route to Delhi. They march
the sixty miles in less than two days, but, on their arrival, find an
unsatisfactory state of things:
"Here," writes Hodson, "alarm is the prevalent feeling, and
conciliation, of men with arms in their hands and in a state
of absolute rebellion, the order of the day. This system, if
pursued, is far more dangerous than anything the Sepoys can
do to us. I do trust the authorities will act with vigor,
else there is no knowing where the affair will end. Oh, for
Sir Charles now! The times are critical, but I have no fear
of aught save the alarm and indecision of our rulers."
The Commander-in-Chief arrives, and now, to Hodson's most naive
astonishment, which breaks out in the comicalest way in his letters,
he regains all he has ever lost by one leap.
"_May 17th._--Yesterday, I was sent for by the
Commander-in-Chief, and appointed Assistant
Quartermaster-General on his personal staff, to be under the
immediate orders of his Excellency, and with command to
raise one hundred horse and fifty foot, for service in the
Intelligence Department, and as personal escort. All this
was done, moreover, in a most complimentary way, and it is
quite in my line."
We can see clearly enough, from our own point of view, what has been
at work for a lieutenant lately under a cloud. The plot thickens
apace.
But who, at this juncture, will open the road to Meerut, from the
general in command of which place we want papers and intelligence? The
following extract from the letter of an officer stationed at that
place will, perhaps, explain:--
"When the mutiny broke out, our communications were
completely cut off. One night, on outlying picket at Meerut,
this subject being discussed, I said, 'Hodson is at Umbala,
I know; and I'll bet he will force his way through, and open
communications with the Commander-in-Chief and ourselves.'
At about three that night I heard my advanced sentries
firing. I rode off to see what was the matter, and they told
me that a party of the enemy's cavalry had approached their
post. When day broke, in galloped Hodson. He had left
Kurnal (seventy-six miles off) at nine the night before,
with one led horse and an escort of Sikh cavalry, and, as I
had anticipated, here he was with despatches for Wilson. How
I quizzed him for approaching an armed post at night without
knowing the parole. Hodson rode straight to Wilson, had his
interview, a bath, breakfast, and two hours' sleep, and then
rode back the seventy-six miles, and had to fight his way
for about thirty miles of the distance."
The pace pleased the general, Hodson supposes, for "he ordered me to
raise a corps of Irregular Horse, and appointed me Commandant," but
"still no tidings from the hills," (where his wife is;) "this is a
terrible additional pull upon one's nerves at a time like this, and is
a phase of war I never calculated on."
On the 27th of May the march towards Delhi begins, and Hodson
accompanies, acting as Assistant Quartermaster-General attached to the
Commander-in-Chief, "with free access to him at any time, and to other
people in authority, which gives me power for good. The Intelligence
Department is mine exclusively, and I have for this line Sir Henry's
old friend, the one-eyed Moulvie, Rujub Alee, so I shall get the best
news in the country." He starts, too, happy about his wife from whom
he has heard; the hill stations all safe, and likely to remain so.
General Anson dies of cholera, and General Barnard succeeds; still,
oddly enough, no change takes place in our lieutenant's appointments.
And so the little army marches, all too slowly, as the lieutenant
thinks and remonstrates, upon Delhi. Other men are answering to the
pressure of the times:--
"Colonel T. Seaton and the other officers have gone to
Rohtuck with the 60th Native Infantry, who, I have no doubt,
will desert to a man as soon as they get there. It is very
plucky of him and the other officers to go; and very hard of
the authorities to send them; a half-hearted measure, and
very discreditable, in my opinion, to all concerned;
affording a painful contrast to Sir John Lawrence's bold and
decided conduct in this crisis. This regiment (1st
Fusileers) is a credit to any army, and the fellows are in
as high spirits and heart, and as plucky and free from
croaking as possible, and really do good to the whole force.
"Alfred Light doing his work manfully and well....
Montgomery has come out very, very strong indeed; but many
are beginning to knock up already, and this is but the
beginning of this work, I fear; and before this business
ends, we who are, thank God, still young and strong, shall
alone be left in camp; all the elderly gentlemen will sink
under the fatigue and exposure."
_June 5th._--Head-quarters arrive at Aleepore, nearly at the end of
our march, in fact one may say at the end, for on that day I rode
right up to the Delhi parade-ground to reconnoitre, and the few sowars
whom I met galloped away like mad at the sight of one white face. "Had
I had a hundred Guides with me I would have gone up to the very
walls;" and on June the 8th we occupy our position before Delhi,
having driven the enemy out of their position; not without loss, for
Colonel Chester is killed, Alfred Light (who won the admiration of
all) wounded.... No one else of the staff party killed or wounded;
but our general returns will, I fear, tell a sad tale. I am mercifully
unhurt, and write this line in pencil on the top of a drum to assure
you thereof.
* * * * *
We must break the narrative here for a moment, now that we have got
the combatants face to face, in the place of decision, to submit to
our readers our own conviction that this same siege of Delhi,
beginning on June 9th and ending triumphantly on September 22d, 1857,
is _the_ feat of arms of which England has most cause to be proud.
From Cressy to Sebastopol it has never been equalled. A mere handful
of Englishmen, for half the time numbering less than three thousand,
sat down in the open field, in the worst days of an Indian summer,
without regular communications, (for the daks were only got carried by
bribery, stage by stage,) without proper artillery, and last and worst
of all, without able leading, before and took a city larger than
Glasgow, garrisoned by an army trained by Englishmen, and numbering at
first 20,000, in another ten days 37,000, and at last 75,000 men,
supplied with all but exhaustless munitions of war, and in the midst
of a nation in arms. "I venture to aver," writes Hodson, "that no
other nation in the world would have remained here, or have avoided
defeat, had they attempted to do so." We agree with him; and we do
trust that the nation will come to look at the siege of Delhi in the
right light, and properly to acknowledge and reward the few who remain
of that band of heroes who saved British India.
Our readers must also remember that we are not giving the story of the
siege, but the story of Hodson's part therein, and must therefore not
think we are unduly putting him forward to the depreciation of other
as glorious names. We would that we had the same means of following
the life day by day of Nicholson and Chamberlain, Tombs and Light,
Welchman, Showers, Home, Salkeld, or a hundred others equally gallant.
But what we have is Hodson's life compiled from his daily letters to
his wife. No doubt the work of the regulars was as important, perhaps
even more trying, than that of the Captain of Irregular Cavalry,
Assistant Quartermaster-General, and head of the Intelligence
Department; but these were his duties, and not the others', and we
shall now see how he fulfilled them.
On the first day of the siege "the Guides" march into camp:
"It would have done your heart good to see the welcome they
gave me--cheering and shouting and crowding round me like
frantic creatures. They seized my bridle, dress, hands, and
feet, and literally threw themselves down before the horse
with the tears streaming down their faces. Many officers who
were present hardly knew what to make of it, and thought the
creatures were mobbing me; and so they were--but for joy,
not for mischief."
"Burrah Serai-wallah," they shouted, ("great in battle" in the vulgar
tongue,) making the staff and others open their eyes, who do not much
believe, for their part, in the power of any Englishman really to
attach to himself any native rascals.
Next day, June 10th, the ball opens. The mutineers march out in force
and attack our position:
"I had command of all the troops on our right, the gallant
Guides among the rest. They followed me, with a cheer for
their old commander, and behaved with their usual pluck, and
finally we drove the enemy in with loss.... Indeed, I did
_not_ expose myself unnecessarily; for having to direct the
movements of three or four regiments, I could not be in the
front as much as I wished."
But wives will be anxious, my lieutenant, and making all just
allowances, it must be confessed that you give her fair cause:
"The warmth of the reception again given me by the Guides
was quite affecting, and has produced a great sensation in
camp, and had a good effect on our native troops, insomuch
that they are more willing to obey their European officers
when they see their own countrymen's enthusiasm.
"My position is Assistant Quartermaster-General on the
Commander-in-Chief's personal staff. I am responsible for
the Intelligence Department, and in the field, or when
anything is going on for directing the movements of the
troops in action, under the immediate orders of the
general."
Again, on June 12th, we are at it:--
"A sharp fight for four hours, ending as usual. They have
never yet been so punished as to-day. The Guides behaved
admirably, so did the Fusileers as usual. I am vexed much at
the _Lahore Chronicle butter_, and wish people would leave
me alone in the newspapers. The best butter I get is the
deference and respect I meet with from all whose respect I
care for, and the affectionate enthusiasm of the Guides,
which increases instead of lessening."
But this daily repulsing attacks cannot be allowed to go on: cannot we
have something to say to attacking them? So the general thinks, and
sets Greathed, assisted by me and two more engineers, to submit a plan
for taking Delhi.
"We drew up our scheme and gave it to the general, who
highly approved, and will, I trust, carry it out; but how
times must be changed, when four subalterns are called upon
to suggest a means of carrying out so vitally important an
enterprise as this, one on which the safety of the empire
depends!"
Simple but "perfectly feasible" plan of four subalterns: blow open
gates with powder, and go in with bayonet, and that there may be no
mistake about it, I volunteer to lead the assault (wholly unmindful of
that assurance given to a loving heart in the hills that I am _not_
exposing myself) and fix on a small building in front of the gate as
the rendezvous, which is now called "Hodson's Mosque."
General approves, and orders assault for the morning of June 13th.
Alas for our "perfectly feasible" plan!
"We were to have taken Delhi by assault last night, but a
'mistake of orders' (?) as to the right time of bringing the
troops to the rendezvous prevented its execution. I am much
annoyed and disappointed at our plan not having been carried
out, because I am confident it would have been successful.
The rebels were cowed, and perfectly ignorant of any
intention of so bold a stroke on our part as an assault; the
surprise would have done everything."
Next day there is another fight. A council of war. Our plan is still
approved, but put off from day to day. Abandoned at last, we are to
wait for reinforcements. Poor "feasible plan!"
"It was frustrated the first night by the fears and absolute
disobedience of orders of ----, the man who first lost
Delhi, and has now by folly prevented its being recaptured.
The general has twice since wished and even ordered it, but
has always been thwarted by some one or other; latterly by
that old woman ----, who has come here for nothing
apparently but as an obstacle; ---- is also a crying evil to
us. The general knows this and wants to get rid of him, but
has not the nerve to supersede him. The whole state of
affairs here is bad to a degree."
And here I am (June 19th), with fights going on every day, knocked
down with bronchitis and inflammation of the chest, "really very ill
for some hours." "The general nurses me as if I were his son. I woke
in the night and found the kind old man by my bedside covering me
carefully up from the draught." But on June 20th (bronchitis
notwithstanding) I am up and at work again, for the Sepoys have
attacked our rear to-day, and though beaten as usual, Colonel Becher
(Quartermaster-General) is shot through right arm, and Daly
(commanding Guides) hit through the shoulder. So the whole work of the
Quartermaster-General's office is on me, and the general begs me as a
personal favor to take command of Guides in addition. I at first
refused, but the general was most urgent, putting it on the ground
that the service was at stake, and none was so fit, &c. &c. I do feel
that we are bound to do our best just now to put things on a proper
footing; and after consulting Seaton and Norman, I accepted the
command. How ---- will gnash his teeth to see me leading my dear old
Guides again in the field.
And so we fight on, literally day by day, for now "our artillery
officers themselves say they are outmatched by these rascals in
accuracy and rapidity of fire; and as they have unlimited supplies of
guns, &c., they are quite beyond us in many respects. We are, in point
of fact, reduced to merely holding our own ground till we get more
men." Still we don't feel at all like giving in.
"The wounded generally are doing well, poor fellows,
considering the heat, dirt, and want of any bed but the dry
ground. Their pluck is wonderful, and it is not in the field
alone that you see what an English soldier is made of. One
poor fellow who was smoking his pipe and laughing with the
comrade by his side, was asked, what was the matter with
him, and he answered in a lively voice, 'Oh, not much, Sir,
only a little knock on the back; I shall be up and at the
rascals again in a day or two.' He had been shot in the
spine, and all his lower limbs were paralyzed. He died next
day. Colonel Welchman is about again; too soon, I fear, but
there is no keeping the brave old man quiet. Poor Peter
Brown is very badly wounded, but he is cheerful, and bears
up bravely. Jacob has 'come out' wonderfully. He is cool,
active, and bold, keeps his wits about him under fire, and
does altogether well. We are fortunate in having him with
the force. Good field-officers are very scarce indeed; I do
not wonder at people at a distance bewailing the delay in
the taking of Delhi. No one not on the spot can appreciate
the difficulties in the way, or the painful truth, that
those difficulties increase upon us."
I am rather out of sorts still myself, also. It is a burden to me to
stand or walk, and the excessive heat makes it difficult for me to
recover from that sharp attack of illness. "The doctors urge me to go
away for a little, to get strength--as if I could leave just now, or
as if I would if I could." ... So I am in the saddle all day, (June
24th,) though obliged occasionally to rest a bit where I can find
shelter, and one halt is by Alfred Light.
"It does me good to see the 'Light of the ball-room' working
away at his guns, begrimed with dust and heat, ever cheery
and cool, though dead beat from fatigue and exposure. How
our men fought to-day; liquid fire was no name for the
fervent heat; but nothing less than a knock-down blow from
sun, sword, or bullet, stops a British soldier."
My glorious old regiment! how they have suffered in this short three
weeks; Colonel Welchman badly hit in the arm, Greville down with
fever, Wriford with dysentery, Dennis with sunstroke, Brown with
wounds.
"Jacob and the 'boys' have all the work to themselves, and
well indeed do the boys behave--with a courage and coolness
which would not disgrace veterans. Little Tommy Butler,
Owen, Warner, all behave like heroes, albeit with sadly
diminishing numbers to lead. Neville Chamberlain is come in,
who ought to be worth a thousand men to us."
Those rascals actually came out to-day (June 25th), in their red coats
and medals!
"We are not very well off, _quant a la cuisine_. I never had
so much trouble in getting anything fit to eat, except when
I dine with the general. Colonel Seaton lives in my tent,
and is a great companion; his joyous disposition is a
perpetual rebuke to the croakers."
And so too was your own, my Lieutenant, for we have fortunately a
letter from a distinguished officer, in which he says,--
"Affairs at times looked very queer, from the frightful
expenditure of life. Hodson's face was then like sunshine
breaking through the dark clouds of despondency and gloom
that would settle down occasionally on all but a few brave
hearts, England's worthiest sons, who were determined to
conquer."
But this siege does set one really thinking in earnest about several
things, and this is the conclusion at which our Lieutenant arrives:--
"There is but one rule of action for a soldier in the field,
as for a man at all times, to do that which is best for the
public good; to make that your sole aim, resting assured
that the result will in the end be best for individual
interest also. I am quite indifferent not to see my name
appear in newspaper paragraphs and despatches; only content
if I can perform my duty truly and honestly, and too
thankful to the Almighty if I am daily spared for future
labors or future repose."
But here is another coil this June 27th:--
"There has been an outcry throughout the camp at ----'s
having fled from Bhagput, the bridge which caused me so much
hard riding and hard work to get, some time ago."
He has actually bolted, on a report of mutineers coming, leaving
boats, bridge, and all. By this conduct he has lost our communication
with Meerut, and that too when our reinforcements were actually in
sight. The consequence is that I have to go down to Bhagput to recover
boats, bridge, &c., and reopen communication, which is done at once
and satisfactorily; and by July 2d we are quite comfortable, for I
have set myself up with plates, &c., for one rupee, and Colonel
Seaton's traps and servants will be here to-day ... except that we are
somewhat vexed in our spirits, for
"---- has been shelved and allowed to get sick, to save him
from supersession. I do not like euphuisms. In these days
men and things should be called by their right names, that
we might know how far either should be trusted.
"_July 5th._--General Barnard dies of cholera after a few
hours' illness. Personally I am much grieved, for no kinder
or more considerate or gentlemanly man ever lived. I am so
sorry for his son, a fine brave fellow, whose attention to
his father won the love of us all. It was quite beautiful to
see them together."
And so we plunge on day after day, the rain nearly flooding us out of
camp. Will the ladies in the hills make us some flannel shirts?
"The soldiers bear up like men, but the constant state of
wet is no small addition to what they have to endure from
heat, hard work, and fighting. I know by experience what a
comfort a dry flannel shirt is.
"_July 12th._--Three hundred of my new regiment arrive; very
fine-looking fellows, most of them. I am getting quite a
little army under me, what with the Guides and my own men.
Would to Heaven they would give us something more to do than
this desultory warfare, which destroys our best men, and
brings us no whit nearer Delhi, and removes the end of the
campaign to an indefinite period."
Another fight this 14th July, one of the sharpest we have yet had, and
we who have to lead were obliged to expose ourselves, but really not
more than we could help; and how the papers can have got hold of this
wound story I can't think, for I didn't tell it even to you. The facts
are thus:--
"A rascally Pandy made a thrust at my horse, which I
parried, when he seized his 'tulwar' in both hands, bringing
it down like a sledge-hammer; it caught on the iron of my
antigropelos legging, which it broke into the skin, cut
through the stirrup-leather, and took a slice off my boot
and stocking; and yet, wonderful to say, the sword did not
penetrate the skin. Both my horse and myself were staggered
by the force of the blow, but I recovered myself quickly,
and I don't think that Pandy will ever raise his 'tulwar'
again."
But, to show you that I did no more than was necessary, I must tell
you what Chamberlain had to do, who led in another part.
"Seeing a hesitation among the troops he led, who did not
like the look of a wall lined with Pandies, and stopped
short, instead of going up to it, he leaped his horse clean
over the wall into the midst of them, and dared the men to
follow, which they did, but he got a ball in the shoulder."
I must positively give up the Quartermaster-General's work;
head-quarters' staff seems breaking down altogether. General Reed goes
to the hills to-night; Congreve and Curzon have been sent off, too;
Chamberlain and Becher on their backs with wounds.
"Colonel Young, Norman, and myself, are therefore the only
representatives of the head-quarters' staff, except the
doctors and commissaries. I am wonderfully well, thank God!
and able to get through as much work as any man; but
commanding two regiments, and being eyes and ears to the
whole army, too, is really too much."
Again, to-day (July 19) a sharp fight; Pandies in great force--driven
pellmell up to the walls; but how about getting back.
"We were commanded by a fine old gentleman, who might sit
for a portrait of Falstaff, so fat and jolly is he, Colonel
Jones, of 60th Rifles."
Jolly old Briton, with the clearest possible notion of going on, but
as for retiring, little enough idea of that sort of work in Colonel
Jones.
"The instant we began to draw off, they followed us, their
immense numbers giving them a great power of annoyance at
very slight cost to themselves. The brave old colonel was
going to retire 'all of a heap,' infantry, guns, and all in
a helpless mass, and we should have suffered cruel loss in
those narrow roads, with walls and buildings on both sides.
I rode up to him and pointed this out, and in reply received
_carte blanche_ to act as I saw best. This was soon done,
with the assistance of Henry Vicars (Adjutant 61st) and
Coghill (Adjutant 2d Bengal European Fusileers), both cool
soldiers under fire, though so young, and we got off in good
order and with trifling loss, drawing the men back slowly,
and in regular order, covered by Dixon's and Money's guns."
This colonel, too, with no notion of retreating, is a candid man; goes
straight to the general on his return, and begs to thank our
Lieutenant, and to say he hopes for no better aid whenever he has to
lead; unlike some persons under whom we have served.
"The general has begged me to give up the Guides, and not
the quartermaster-general's office. You, at least, will
rejoice that it greatly diminishes the risk to life and
limb, which, I confess, lately has been excessive in my
case."
News of Wheeler's surrender--of the massacre four days later (July
26), and our blood is running fire. "There will be a day of reckoning
for these things, and a fierce one, or I have been a soldier in vain."
Another fight on the 24th, and Seaton down with chest-wound, but doing
well; "he is patient and gentle in suffering as a woman, and this
helps his recovery wonderfully." ... Thanks for the flannel
waistcoats; but as for you and Mrs. ---- coming to camp as nurses, no.
"Unless any unforeseen emergency should arise, I would
strongly dissuade any lady from coming to camp. They would
all very speedily become patients in the very hospitals
which they came to serve, and would so willingly support.
The flannel garments are invaluable, and this is all that
can be done for us by female hands at present.... You say
there is a great difference between doing one's duty and
running unnecessary risks, and you say truly; the only
question, what is one's duty. Now, I might, as I have more
than once, see things going wrong at a time and place when I
might be merely a spectator, and not 'on duty,' or ordered
to be there, and I might feel that by exposing myself to
danger for a time I might rectify matters, and I might
therefore think it right to incur that danger; and yet, if I
were to get hit, it would be said 'he had no business
there;' nor should I, as far as the rules of the service go,
though, in my own mind, I should have been satisfied that I
was right. These are times when every man should do his
best, his utmost, and not say, 'No; though I see I can do
good there, yet, as I have not been ordered and am not on
duty, I will not do it.' This is not my idea of a soldier's
duty, and hitherto the results have proved me right."
_August 3d._--Rumor that Sir Henry is dead at Lucknow. The news has
quite unnerved me. 5th.--Nana Sahib, the murderer (you remember the
man at the artillery review, a "swell" looking native gentleman, who
spoke French, and was talking a good deal to Alfred Light), has been
beaten by Havelock, they say has drowned himself.
"I hope it is not true; for it is one of my aims to have the
catching of the said Nana myself. The hanging him would be a
positive pleasure to me.... Nicholson has come on ahead of
our reinforcements from the Punjaub; a host in himself, if
he does not go and get knocked over as Chamberlain did.
"General Wilson has been down for some days, but is now
better, but nervous and over-anxious about trifles.... These
men are, personally, as brave as lions, but they have not
big hearts or heads enough for circumstances of serious
responsibility....
"_August 11th._--Talking of jealousies, one day, under a
heavy fire, Captain ---- came up to me, and begged me to
forget and forgive what had passed, and only to remember
that we were soldiers fighting together in a common cause.
As I was the injured party, I could afford to do this. The
time and place, as well as his manner, appealed to my better
feelings, so I held out my hand at once. Nowadays, we must
stand by and help each other, forget all injuries, and rise
superior to them, or God help us! we should be in terrible
plight."
_August 12th_.--A brilliant affair under Showers; four guns taken.
Brave young Owen wounded, "riding astride one gun, and a soldier with
musket and fixed bayonet riding each horse, the rest cheering like mad
things. I was in the thick of it, _by accident_."
By this time, Pandy, having been beaten severely in twenty-three
fights, has had nearly enough of it, and is very chary of doing more
than firing long shots, so there is no longer so much need of our
Lieutenant in camp. He may surely be useful in clearing the
neighborhood and restoring British rule and order; so we find him
starting for Rohtuck, on 17th August, with three hundred men and five
officers,--all his own men, and first-rate,--and Macdowell, two
Goughs, Ward, and Wise. On the 18th the inhabitants send supplies and
fair words, but there is a body of a thousand infantry and three
hundred horse close by, who must be handled. Accordingly, they are
drawn into the open by a feigned retreat, and come on firing and
yelling in crowds.
"Threes about and at them;" five parties, each headed by an officer,
are upon them. "Never was such a scatter; they fled as if not the
Guides and Hodson's Horse, but death and the devil, were at their
heels." Only eight of my men touched. This will encourage my new
hands, utterly untrained.
Another skirmish, and now--
"In three days we have frightened away and demoralized a
force of artillery, cavalry, and infantry, some two thousand
strong, beat those who stood or returned to fight us, twice,
in spite of numbers, and got fed and furnished forth by the
rascally town itself. Moreover, we have thoroughly cowed the
whole neighborhood, and given them a taste of what more they
will get unless they keep quiet in future.... This is a
terribly egotistical detail, and I am thoroughly ashamed of
saying so much of myself; but you insisted on having a full,
true, and particular account, so do not think me
vainglorious."
Next come orders, but sadly indefinite ones, to look out for and
destroy the 10th Light Cavalry, who are out in the Jheend district:--
"He must either say distinctly 'do this or that,' and I will
do it; or he must give me _carte blanche_ to do what he
wants in the most practicable way, of which I, knowing the
country, can best judge. I am not going to fag my men and
horses to death, and then be told I have exceeded my
instructions. He gives me immense credit for what I have
done, but 'almost wishes I had not ventured so far.' The old
gentleman means well, but does not understand either the
country or the position I was in, nor does he appreciate a
tenth part of the effects which our bold stroke at Rohtuck,
forty-five miles from camp, has produced. '_N'importe_,'
they will find it out sooner or later. I hear both
Chamberlain and Nicholson took my view of the case, and
supported me warmly.... I foresee that I shall remain a
subaltern, and the easy-going majors of brigade,
aides-de-camp, and staff-officers will all get brevets."
Too true, my Lieutenant.
"The Victoria Cross, I confess, is the highest object of my
ambition, and had I been one of Fortune's favorites, I
should have had it ere now."
True again.
"But, whether a lieutenant or lieutenant-general, I trust I
shall continue to do my duty to the best of my judgment and
ability, as long as strength and sense are vouchsafed to
me."
We trust, and are on the whole by this time prepared to hazard a
prophecy, that you will so continue, whether lieutenant or general.
_August 26th._--A glorious victory at Nujjufghur, by Nicholson. I was
not there. Ill in camp; worse luck.... Scouring the country again till
August 30th, when I have to receive an emissary from Delhi to treat.
Sir Colin Campbell is, they say, at Calcutta, and Mansfield, as chief
of the staff; so now we may get some leading.
We are in Delhi at last (September 15th), but with grievous loss. My
dear old regiment (1st Fusileers) suffered out of all proportion.
"Of the officers engaged only Wriford, Wallace, and I are
untouched. My preservation (I don't like the word _escape_)
was miraculous." ...
Nicholson dangerously hit; ten out of seventeen engineer officers
killed or wounded.
... "'You may count our real officers on your fingers now.'
"_Sept. 16th._--I grieve much for poor Jacob; we buried him
and three sergeants of the regiment, last night; he was a
noble soldier. His death has made me captain, the long
wished-for goal; but I would rather have served on as a
subaltern than gained promotion thus.
"_Sept. 19th._--We are making slow progress in the city.
The fact is, the troops are utterly demoralized by hard work
and hard drink, I grieve to say. For the first time in my
life, I have had to see English soldiers refuse, repeatedly,
to follow their officers. Greville, Jacob, Nicholson, and
Speke were all sacrificed to this.
"_Sept. 22d._--In the Royal Palace, Delhi.--I was quite
unable to write yesterday, having had a hard day's work. I
was fortunate enough to capture the King and his favorite
wife. To-day, more fortunate still, I have seized and
destroyed the King's two sons and a grandson (the famous, or
rather infamous, Abu Bukt), the villains who ordered the
massacre of our women and children, and stood by and
witnessed the foul barbarity; their bodies are now lying on
the spot where those of the unfortunate ladies were exposed.
I am very tired, but very much satisfied with my day's work,
and so seem all hands."
This is Hodson's account of the two most remarkable exploits in even
his career. We have no space to give his own full narrative, which he
writes later, upon being pressed to do so; or the graphic account of
Macdowell, his lieutenant, which will be found in the book, and it
would be literary murder to mutilate such gems. As to defending the
shooting of the two princes, let those do it who feel that a defence
is needed, for we believe that no Englishman, worth convincing, now
doubts as to the righteousness and policy of the act, and probably the
old Radical general-officer and M. P., who thought it his duty to call
Hodson hard names at the time, has reconsidered his opinion. Whether
he has or not, however, matters little. He who did the deed, and is
gone, cared not for hasty or false tongues,--why should we?
"Strange," he says, "that some of those who are loudest
against me for sparing the King, are also crying out at my
destroying his sons. 'Quousque tandem?' I may well exclaim.
But, in point of fact, I am quite indifferent to clamor
either way. I made up my mind, at the time, to be abused. I
was convinced I was right, and when I prepared to run the
great physical risk of the attempt, I was equally game for
the moral risk of praise or blame. These have not been, and
are not times when a man who would serve his country dare
hesitate, as to the personal consequences to himself, of
what he thinks his duty."
"By Jove, Hodson, they ought to make you Commander-in-Chief for this,"
shouts the enthusiast to whom the prisoners were handed over. "Well,
I'm glad you have got him, but I never expected to see either him or
you again," says the Commander-in-Chief, and sits down and writes the
following despatch:--
"The King, who accompanied the troops for some short
distance last night, gave himself up to a party of Irregular
Cavalry, whom I sent out in the direction of the fugitives,
and he is now a prisoner under a guard of European
soldiers."
Delhi is ours; but at what a cost in officers and men! and Nicholson
is dead.
"With the single exception of my ever revered friend, Sir
Henry Lawrence, and Colonel Mackeson, I have never met his
equal in field or council; he was preeminently our best and
bravest, and his loss is not to be atoned for in these days.
"The troops have behaved with singular moderation towards
women and children, considering their provocation. I do not
believe, and I have some means of knowing, that a single
woman or child has been purposely injured by our troops, and
the story on which your righteous indignation is grounded is
quite false; the troops have been demoralized by drink, but
nothing more."
In November he gets a few weeks' leave, and is off to Umbala to meet
his wife for the last time, safe after all, and no longer a lieutenant
under a cloud. What a meeting must that have been.
With the taking of Delhi our narrative, already too long, must close,
though a grand five months of heroic action still remained. Nothing in
the book exceeds in interest the ride of ninety-four miles from
Seaton's column, with young Macdowell, to carry a despatch to Sir
Colin, on December 30th. The tale of the early morning summons, the
rumors of enemies on the road, the suspense as to the Chief's
whereabouts, the leaving all escort behind, their flattering and
cordial reception by Sir Colin, (who gets them "chops and ale in a
quiet friendly way,") the fifty-four miles' ride home, the midnight
alarm and escape, and the safe run in, take away our breath. And the
finish is inimitable.
"All Hodson said," writes Macdowell, "when we were at Bewar,
and safe, was 'By George! Mac, I'd give a good deal for a
cup of tea,' and immediately went to sleep. He is the
coolest hand I have ever yet met. We rode ninety-four miles.
Hodson rode seventy-two on one horse, the little dun, and I
rode Alma seventy-two miles also."
One more anecdote, however, we cannot resist. On the 6th of January,
1858, Seaton's column joins the Commander-in-Chief; on the 27th, at
Shumshabad, poor young Macdowell (whose letters make one love him) is
killed, and Hodson badly wounded. They were in advance, as usual, with
guns, and had to charge a superior body of cavalry:--
"But there was nothing for it but fighting, as, had we not
attacked them, they would have got in amongst our guns. We
were only three officers, and about one hundred and eighty
horsemen,--my poor friend and second in command, Macdowell,
having received a mortal wound a few minutes before we
charged. It was a terrible _melee_ for some time, and we
were most wonderfully preserved. However, we gave them a
very proper thrashing, and killed their leaders. Two out of
the three of us were wounded, and five of my men killed and
eleven wounded, besides eleven horses. My horse had three
sabre-cuts, and I got two, which I consider a rather unfair
share. The Commander-in-Chief is very well satisfied, I
hear, with the day's work, and is profusely civil and kind
to me."
In another letter he writes:--
"They were very superior in number, and individually so as
horsemen and swordsmen, but we managed to 'whop' them all
the same, and drive them clean off the field; not, however,
until they had made two very pretty dashes at us, which cost
us some trouble and very hard fighting. It was the hardest
thing of the kind in which I ever was engaged in point of
regular '_in_ fighting,' as they say in the P. R.; only
_Bell's Life_ could describe it properly. I got a cut,
which laid my thumb open, from a fellow after my sword was
through him, and about half an hour later this caused me to
get a second severe cut, which divided the muscles of the
right arm, and put me _hors de combat_; for my grip on the
sword-handle was weakened, and a demon on foot succeeded in
striking down my guard, or rather his tulwar glanced off my
guard on to my arm. My horse, also, got three cuts. I have
got well most rapidly, despite an attack of erysipelas,
which looked very nasty for three days, and some slight
fever; and I have every reason to be thankful."
He is able, notwithstanding wounds, to accompany the forces, Colonel
Burn kindly driving him in his dog-cart. Nothing could exceed Sir
Colin's kind attentions. Here is a chief, at last, who can appreciate
a certain captain, late lieutenant under a cloud. The old chief drinks
his health as colonel, and, on Hodson's doubting, says:--
"_I_ will see that it is all arranged; just make a
memorandum of your services during the Punjaub war, and I
venture to prophesy that it will not be long before I shake
hands with you as Lieutenant-Colonel Hodson, C.B., with a
Victoria Cross to boot."
By the end of February he is well, and in command of his regiment
again, and in his last fight saves the life of his adjutant, Lieut.
Gough, by cutting down a rebel trooper in the very act of spearing
him.
And now comes the end. For a week the siege had gone on, and work
after work of the enemy had fallen. On the 11th of March the Begum's
Palace was to be assaulted. Hodson had orders to move his regiment
nearer to the walls, and while choosing a spot for his camp heard
firing, rode on, and found his friend Brigadier Napier directing the
assault. He joined him, saying, "I am come to take care of you; you
have no business to go to work without me to look after you." They
entered the breach together, were separated in the _melee_, and in a
few minutes Hodson was shot through the chest. The next morning the
wound was declared to be mortal, and he sent for Napier to give his
last instructions.
"He lay on his bed of mortal agony," says this friend, "and
met death with the same calm composure which so much
distinguished him on the field of battle. He was quite
conscious and peaceful, occasionally uttering a sentence,
'My poor wife,' 'My poor sisters.' 'I should have liked to
have seen the end of the campaign and gone home to the dear
ones once more, but it was so ordered.' 'It is hard to leave
the world just now, when success is so near, but God's will
be done.' 'Bear witness for me that I have tried to do my
duty to man. May God forgive my sins, for Christ's sake.' 'I
go to my Father.' 'My love to my wife,--tell her my last
thoughts were of her.' 'Lord receive my soul.' These were
his last words, and without a sigh or struggle his pure and
noble spirit took its flight."
"It was so ordered." They were his own words; and now that the first
anguish of his loss is over, will not even those nearest and dearest
to him acknowledge "it was ordered for the best?" For is there not
something painful to us in calculating the petty rewards which we can
bestow upon a man who has done any work of deliverance for his
country? Do we not almost dread--eagerly as we may desire his
return--to hear the vulgar, formal phrases which are all we can devise
to commemorate the toils and sufferings that we think of with most
gratitude and affection? There is somewhat calming and soothing in the
sadness which follows a brave man to his grave in the very place where
his work was done, just when it was done. Alas, but it is a bitter
lesson to learn, even to us his old schoolfellows, who have never seen
him since we parted at his "leaving breakfast." May God make us all
braver and truer workers at our own small tasks, and worthy to join
him, the hard fighter, the glorious Christian soldier and Englishman,
when our time shall come.
On the next day, March 13th, he was carried to a soldier's grave, in
the presence of the head-quarters, staff, and of Sir Colin, his last
chief, who writes thus to his widow:--
"I followed your noble husband to the grave myself, in order
to mark, in the most public manner, my regret and esteem for
the most brilliant soldier under my command, and one whom I
was proud to call my friend."
What living Englishman can add one iota to such praise from such lips?
The man of whom the greatest of English soldiers could thus speak,
needs no mark of official approbation, though it is a burning disgrace
to the authorities that none such has been given. But the family
which mourns its noblest son may be content with the rewards which his
gallant life and glorious death have won for him and them,--we believe
that he himself would desire no others. For his brothers-in-arms are
erecting a monument to him in Lichfield Cathedral; his schoolfellows
are putting up a window to him, and the other Rugbaeans who have fallen
with him, in Rugby Chapel; and the three regiments of Hodson's Horse
will hand down his name on the scene of his work and of his death as
long as Englishmen bear rule in India. And long after that rule has
ceased, while England can honor brave deeds and be grateful to brave
men, the heroes of the Indian mutiny will never be forgotten, and the
hearts of our children's children will leap up at the names of
Lawrence, Havelock, and Hodson.
To the Memory
OF
SIR HENRY LAWRENCE, K. C. B.
THE TRUE CHRISTIAN, THE BRAVE SOLDIER,
THE FAITHFUL FRIEND,
THESE EXTRACTS FROM THE LETTERS OF
ONE WHOM HE TRAINED
TO FOLLOW IN HIS FOOTSTEPS, AND WHO NOW
RESTS NEAR HIM AT LUCKNOW,
Are Dedicated
BY THE EDITOR.
They were lovely and pleasant in their lives,
And in their deaths they were not divided.
PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.
I have now been able to complete the series of extracts from my
brother's letters, down to the morning of the fatal 11th March. The
greater portion of the Fourth Chapter of Part II. will be found to
have been added since the first edition.
I have to apologize for an inaccuracy in the quotation which I gave
from Sir Colin Campbell's letter on the occasion of my brother's
death. A correct copy of the letter in full will be found at page 431.
I have not found it necessary to make any other corrections of
importance. Cases have been pointed out to me, in which officers who
took part in different operations described, and did good service, are
not mentioned by name; but I felt that I could not supply any such
omissions, without taking upon myself a responsibility which I have
disclaimed.
It was very natural that my brother, in writing to his wife, should
make especial mention of those in whom she was interested. It is
probable, too, that in some cases, subsequent information would have
modified views expressed at the moment, but I have adhered to the
principle of giving his letters as they were written day by day.
The favorable reception given to the former editions of this work, has
quite satisfied me that I was not wrong in supposing that my brother's
character only required to be known, in order to be estimated as it
deserved, by Englishmen of every class and profession.
COOKHAM DEANE, _July, 1859_.
PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.
It can scarcely be needful to make any apology for offering to the
public this record of one who has attracted to himself so large a
measure of attention and admiration. Many, both in this country and in
India, have expressed, and I doubt not many others have felt, a desire
to know more of the commander of Hodson's Horse, and captor of the
King of Delhi and his sons.
My original intention was to have compiled from my brother's letters
merely an account of the part he bore in the late unhappy war. I very
soon, however, determined to extend the work, so as to embrace the
whole of his life in India.
I felt that the public would naturally inquire by what previous
process of training he had acquired, not merely his consummate skill
in the great game of war, but his experience of Asiatics and
marvellous influence over their minds.
The earlier portions of this book will serve to answer such inquiries;
they will show the gradual development of my brother's character and
powers, and that those exploits which astonished the world by their
skill and daring, were but the natural results of the high idea of the
soldier's profession which he proposed to himself, honestly and
consistently worked out during ten years of training, in perhaps the
finest school that ever existed for soldiers and administrators. They
will explain how it was that, in the midst of a struggle for the very
existence of our empire, he was able to call into being and bring into
the field around Delhi an "invincible and all but ubiquitous" body of
cavalry.
The dragon's teeth which came up armed men, had been sown by him long
before in his earlier career in the Punjaub. There, by many a deed of
daring and activity, by many a successful stratagem and midnight
surprise, by many a desperate contest, he had taught the Sikhs, first
to dread him as an enemy, and then to idolize him as a leader. Already
in 1849 the Governor-General had had "frequent occasions of noticing
not only his personal gallantry, but the activity, energy, and
intelligence with which he discharged whatever duties were intrusted
to him." Even then the name of Hodson, although unknown in England,
except to the few who watched his course with the eyes of affection,
was a sound of terror to the Sikhs, and a bugbear to their children.
In 1852 he earned this high praise from one best qualified to judge:
"Lieutenant Hodson, marvellously attaching the Guides to himself by
the ties of mutual honor, mutual daring, and mutual devotion, has on
every opportunity proved that the discipline of a public school and
subsequent University training are no disqualification for hazardous
warfare, or for the difficult task of keeping wild tribes in check."
The title given to this book will sufficiently indicate the principle
on which, particularly in the first part, I have made selections from
my brother's letters. My object has been to show what a soldier's life
in India may be, and what in his case it was; how wide and varied is
the field which it opens for the exercise of the highest and noblest
qualities, intellectual and moral, of our nature; and how
magnificently he realized and grasped the conception.
His letters, written in all the freedom of unreserved intercourse,
will give a truer notion of his character than the most labored
description; they exhibit the undercurrent of deep feelings that ran
through even his most playful moods, the yearning after home that
mingled with the dreams of ambition and the thirst for the excitement
of war, the almost womanly tenderness that coexisted with the stern
determination of the soldier. They show that though his lot was cast
in camps, he was not a mere soldier; though a hanger-on on the
outskirts of civilization amidst wild tribes, he had a keen
appreciation of the refinement and elegancies of civilized life; that
though in India, he remembered that he was an Englishman; that though
living amongst the heathen, he did not forget that he was a
Christian.
I have not attempted to write a biography, but have allowed my brother
to speak for himself, merely supplying such connecting links as seemed
absolutely necessary.
Indeed, I could do no otherwise; for unhappily, during the twelve
years of his soldier's life,--those years in which his character
received its mature development,--I knew him only by his letters, or
by the reports of others; when we parted on board the ship that
carried him from England, in 1845, we parted to meet no more in this
world. My recollections of him, vivid as they are, are not of the
leader of men in council and the battle-field, but of the bright and
joyous boy, the life of the home circle, the tender and affectionate
son, the loving brother, the valued friend, the popular companion.
Of what he became afterwards my readers will have the same means of
judging as myself. He seems to me to have been one of whom not only
his family, but his country may well be proud,--a worthy
representative of the English name and nation amongst the tribes of
India, an impersonation of manly straightforwardness, and unhesitating
daring, and irresistible power.
I cannot doubt but that the verdict of his countrymen will confirm my
judgment.
Many too, I believe, will agree with me in thinking that these pages
prove that the poetry and romance of war are not yet extinct, that
even the Enfield rifle has not reduced all men to a dead level, but
that there is still a place to be found for individual prowess, for
the lion heart, and the eagle eye, and the iron will. One seems
transported back from the prosaic nineteenth century to the ages of
romance and chivalry, and to catch a glimpse, now of a Paladin of old,
now of a knightly hero _sans peur et sans reproche_; now, of a
northern chieftain, "riding on border foray," now of a captain of
free-lances; yet all dissolving into a Christian soldier of our own
day.
Most striking of all, it has appeared to me, is the resemblance to the
romantic career of that hero of the Spanish ballads, who, by his many
deeds of heroic daring, gained for himself the distinguished title of
"El de las Hazanas,"--"He of the exploits." Those who are acquainted
with the chronicles of the Conquest of Granada, will almost fancy in
reading these pages that they are hearing again the story of Fernando
Perez del Pulgar; how at one time by a bold dash he rode with a
handful of followers across a country swarming with the enemy, and
managed to force his way into a beleaguered fortress; how at another
he galloped alone up the streets of Granada, then in possession of the
enemy, to the gates of the principal mosque, and nailed a paper to the
door with his dagger; how again he turned the tide of battle by the
mere charm of his eagle eye and thrilling voice, inspiring the most
timid with a courage equal to his own; how he made the enemy lay down
their arms at his word of command; how the Moorish mothers frightened
their children with the sound of his name; how he was not only the
harebrained adventurer, delighting in peril and thirsting for the
excitement of the fight, but also the courteous gentleman, the
accomplished scholar; as profound and sagacious in the council as he
was reckless in the field, and frequently selected by the wily
Ferdinand to conduct affairs requiring the greatest prudence and
judgment.[1]
It may be, however, that affection has biassed my judgment, and that I
shall be thought to have formed an exaggerated estimate of the
grandeur and nobleness of the subject of this memoir. Even if this be
so, I shall not take much to heart the charge of having loved such a
brother too well, and I shall console myself with the thought that I
have endeavored to do something to perpetuate his memory.
If, however, any young soldier be induced, by reading these pages, to
take a higher view of his profession, to think of it as one of the
noblest fields in which he can serve his God and his country, and
enter on it in a spirit of self-sacrifice, with "duty" as his guiding
principle, and a determination never to forget that he is a Christian
soldier and an Englishman, I shall be abundantly rewarded; my main
object will be attained.
COOKHAM DEANE, _December, 1858_.
FOOTNOTE:
[1] See Washington Irving, &c.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PART I.
CHAPTER I.
EARLY LIFE--RUGBY--TRINITY COLLEGE, CAMBRIDGE--GUERNSEY
MILITIA pp. 57-61
CHAPTER II.
ARRIVAL IN INDIA--CAMPAIGN ON THE SUTLEJ, BATTLES OF
MOODKEE, FEROZESHAH, SOBRAON--OCCUPATION OF
LAHORE--1845-6 62-81
CHAPTER III.
FIRST BENGAL EUROPEAN FUSILEERS--CASHMERE WITH SIKH
ARMY--LAWRENCE ASYLUM--APPOINTMENT TO GUIDE
CORPS--_June, 1846-Oct. 1847_ 82-102
CHAPTER IV.
EMPLOYMENT IN THE PUNJAUB AS SECOND IN COMMAND OF THE
CORPS OF GUIDES, AND ALSO AS ASSISTANT TO THE RESIDENT
AT LAHORE--ROAD-MAKING AND SURVEYING--CAMPAIGN OF
1848-9--CAPTURE OF FORTS--BATTLE OF GUJERAT--ANNEXATION
OF PUNJAUB--_Oct. 1847-March, 1849_ 103-141
CHAPTER V.
ANNEXATION OF PUNJAUB--INCREASE OF CORPS OF GUIDES AT
PESHAWUR--TRANSFER TO CIVIL DEPARTMENT AS ASSISTANT
COMMISSIONER--_April, 1849-April, 1850_ 142-156
CHAPTER VI.
TOUR IN CASHMERE AND THIBET WITH SIR HENRY LAWRENCE
--TRANSFER TO CIS-SUTLEJ PROVINCES--_June, 1850-Oct.
1851_ 157-177
CHAPTER VII.
MARRIAGE--COMMAND OF THE GUIDES--PESHAWUR--EUZOFZAI
--FRONTIER WARFARE--MURDAN--_Jan. 1852-Nov. 1854_ 178-204
CHAPTER VIII.
REVERSES--UNJUST TREATMENT--OFFICIAL ENMITY--LOSS OF
COMMAND--SUPPRESSION OF REPORT--RETURN TO REGIMENTAL
DUTIES--BETTER PROSPECTS--MAJOR TAYLOR'S
REPORT--TESTIMONY OF SIR R. NAPIER--MR.
MONTGOMERY--_Nov. 1854-May, 1857_ 205-226
PART II.
NARRATIVE OF THE DELHI CAMPAIGN, 1857, 1858.
CHAPTER I.
OUTBREAK OF REBELLION--MARCH DOWN TO DELHI FROM DUGSHAI
WITH FIRST EUROPEAN BENGAL FUSILEERS--APPOINTMENT TO
INTELLIGENCE DEPARTMENT--RIDE FROM KURNAL TO MEERUT TO
OPEN COMMUNICATION--ORDER TO RAISE REGIMENT--DEATH OF
GENERAL ANSON--_May 10th-June 8th_ pp. 227-245
CHAPTER II.
SIEGE OF DELHI--_June-August_ 246-306
CHAPTER III.
SIEGE OF DELHI, CONTINUED--ROHTUCK EXPEDITION--ASSAULT
--DELHI TAKEN--CAPTURE OF KING--CAPTURE AND EXECUTION
OF SHAHZADAHS--_August 17th-Sept. 25th_ 307-359
CHAPTER IV.
OPERATIONS IN THE NEIGHBORHOOD OF DELHI--SHOWERS'S
COLUMN--SEATON'S COLUMN--ACTIONS AT GUNGEREE, PUTIALEE,
MYNPOOREE--RIDE TO COMMANDER-IN-CHIEF'S CAMP--JUNCTION
OF FORCES--SHUMSHABAD--_Oct.-Jan._ 360-418
CHAPTER V.
ALUMBAGH, LUCKNOW--THE BEGUM'S PALACE--BANKS'S
HOUSE--THE SOLDIER'S DEATH--NOTICES--CONCLUDING
REMARKS--_Feb.-March 12th_ 419-444
TWELVE YEARS OF A SOLDIER'S LIFE IN INDIA.
PART I.
CHAPTER I.
EARLY LIFE.--RUGBY.--CAMBRIDGE.--GUERNSEY.
William Stephen Raikes Hodson, third son of Rev. George Hodson,
afterwards Archdeacon of Stafford and Canon of Lichfield, was born at
Maisemore Court, near Gloucester, on 19th March, 1821.
As a boy, his affectionate disposition and bright and joyous character
endeared him greatly to his family, and made him a general favorite
with all around him, old and young, rich and poor. That which
characterized him most was his quickness of observation and his
interest in everything going on about him. By living with his eyes and
ears open, and never suffering anything to escape his notice, he
acquired a stock of practical knowledge which he turned to good
account in his after-life. With the exception of a short time spent
with a private tutor, the Rev. E. Harland, he was educated at home
till he went to Rugby, in his fifteenth year. Home life, however, had
not prevented him from growing up an active, high-spirited boy, full
of life and energy.
His feats of activity at Rugby still live in the remembrance of his
contemporaries and the traditions of the school. The following is an
extract from a paper in the _Book of Rugby School_, published in
1856:--
Who does not remember the fair-haired, light-complexioned
active man whose running feats, whether in the open fields
or on the gravel walks of the Close, created such marvel
among his contemporaries. He has carried his hare and hounds
into his country's service, and as commandant of the gallant
corps of Guides, has displayed an activity and courage on
the wild frontier of the Punjaub, the natural development of
his early prowess at Crick and Brownsover.
A very similar notice appeared in a periodical during the recent
campaign:--
The Rugboeans have had their Crick run. Six miles over heavy
country, there and back, to the school gates by the road, is
no mean distance to be done in one hour twenty-nine minutes.
There was a day when the gallant leader of _Hodson's Horse_
always led in this run. We think we see "larky Pritchard,"
as he was familiarly designated, in his blue cloth jacket,
white trousers, his well-known belt, and his "golden hair,"
going in front with his nice easy stride, (for he never had
any very great pace, though he could last forever,) and
getting back coolly and comfortably to "Bons" when the rear
hounds were toiling a mile behind. There never was such a
boy to run over, after second lesson, to Dunchurch to see
the North Warwickshire, or to give himself a "pipe-opener"
to Lutterworth and back between callings over, till the
doctor vowed he would injure his heart. How true it is that
men who have distinguished themselves most in school sports
come out the best at last.
It was not, however, only in active sports that he showed ability. As
head of a house, during the later portion of his Rugby life, he gave
equal indications of "administrative capacity."
His tutor, (the present Bishop of Calcutta,) speaking of his having
been transferred to his house, in which there were then no praepostors,
"because, from his energetic character and natural ability, he seemed
to Dr. Arnold likely to give me efficient help," continues: "He gave
abundant proof that Arnold's choice had been a wise one. Though he
immediately reestablished the shattered prestige of praepositorial
power, he contrived to make himself very popular with various classes
of boys. The younger ones found in him an efficient protector against
bullying. Those of a more literary turn found in him an agreeable and
intelligent companion, and were fond of being admitted to sit in his
study and talk on matters of intellectual interest. The democrats had
got their master, and submitted with a good grace to power which they
could not resist, and which was judiciously and moderately exercised.
The _regime_ was wise, firm, and kind, and the house was happy and
prosperous.
"From all that I knew of him, both at Rugby and afterwards, I was not
surprised at the courage and coolness which the _Times_ compared 'to
the spirit of a Paladin of old.' I cannot say how much I regret that I
shall not be welcomed in India by the first head of my dear old house
at Rugby."
From Rugby my brother went, in October, 1840, to Trinity College,
Cambridge. Here, as might have been expected from his previous habits,
he took an active interest in boating and other athletic amusements,
while at the same time he by no means neglected the more serious and
intellectual pursuits of the University. He had a very considerable
acquaintance with, and taste for, both classical and general
literature, but a constitutional tendency to headache very much stood
in the way of any close application to books; and, after he had taken
his degree in 1844, was one strong reason for his deciding on an
active rather than a studious life. The Indian army seemed to offer
the best opening, but while waiting for a cadetship, in order to
prevent superannuation he obtained, through the kind introduction of
Lord de Saumarez, a commission in the Guernsey Militia from
Major-General W. Napier, the Lieutenant-Governor, and there commenced
his military life. From the first he felt that the profession of a
soldier was one that required to be studied, and took every
opportunity of mastering its principles.
On his leaving Guernsey to enter the Hon. East India Company's
service, Major-General W. Napier bore this testimony to his character:
"I think he will be an acquisition to any service. His education, his
ability, his zeal to make himself acquainted with military matters,
gave me the greatest satisfaction during his service with the
militia."
CHAPTER II.
ARRIVAL IN INDIA.--CAMPAIGN ON THE SUTLEJ, 1845-46.
My brother landed at Calcutta on the 13th of September, 1845, and,
with as little delay as possible, proceeded up the country to Agra,
where he found a hearty welcome beneath the hospitable roof of the
Hon. James Thomason, Lieutenant-Governor of the Northwest Provinces,
an old family friend and connection, who, from that time to his death,
treated him with as much affection, and took as deep an interest in
his career, as if he had been his own son.
He was appointed to do duty with the 2d Grenadiers, then forming a
part of the Governor-General's escort, and, accordingly, left Agra on
November 2d. In the following letter he describes his first
impressions of camp life in an Indian army.
After mentioning a delay caused by an attack of fever and dysentery,
on his way to the camp, he proceeds:--
I was able, however, to join the Grenadiers at four o'clock
on the morning of the 7th, and share their dusty march of
ten miles to the village near which the Governor-General's
camp was pitched. Since that day we have been denizens of a
canvas city of a really astonishing extent, seeing that it
is the creation of a few hours, and shifts with its enormous
population, some ten or fifteen miles a day. I wonder more
every day at the ease and magnitude of the arrangements, and
the varied and interesting pictures continually before our
eyes. Soon after four A. M., a bugle sounds the _reveille_,
and the whole mass is astir at once. The smoke of the
evening fires has by this time blown away, and everything
stands out clear and defined in the bright moonlight. The
Sepoys, too, bring the straw from their tents, and make
fires to warm their black faces on all sides, and the groups
of swarthy redcoats stooping over the blaze, with a white
background of canvas, and the dark clear sky behind all,
produce a most picturesque effect as one turns out into the
cold. Then the multitudes of camels, horses, and elephants,
in all imaginable groups and positions,--the groans and
cries of the former as they stoop and kneel for their
burdens, the neighing of hundreds of horses mingling with
the shouts of the innumerable servants and their masters'
calls, the bleating of sheep and goats, and louder than all,
the shrill screams of the Hindoo women, almost bewilder
one's senses as one treads one's way through the canvas
streets and squares to the place where the regiment
assembles outside the camp.
A second bugle sounds "the assembly." There is a blaze of
torches from the Governor's tents; his palanquin carriage,
drawn by four mules, and escorted by jingling troopers,
trots to the front. The artillery thunder forth the morning
gun, as a signal that the great man is gone,--the guns
rattle by,--the cavalry push on after them,--and then at
length our band strikes up. "Forward" is the word, and the
red (and black) column moves along, by this time as
completely obscured by the dense clouds of dust as though
they were in London during a November fog. We are not
expected to remain with our men, but mount at once, and ride
in a cluster before the band, or ride on a quarter of a mile
or so, in twos and threes, complaining of the laziness of
the great man's people, and of the dust and cold, as if we
were the most ill-used of her Majesty's subjects. As soon as
we're off the ground, and the road pretty clear, I dismount,
and walk the first eight miles or so, this being the time to
recover one's powers of locomotion. The cold is really very
great, especially in the hour before sunrise,--generally
about one and a half or two hours after we start. It soon
gets warm enough to make one glad to ride again, and by the
time the march is over, and the white city is in sight, the
heat is very great, though now diminishing daily. It is a
sudden change of temperature, truly,--from near freezing at
starting, to 90 deg. or 100 deg. at arriving; and it is this, I
think, which makes us feel the heat so much in this climate.
In the daytime we get on very well; the heat seldom
exceeding 86 deg., and often not more than 84 deg. and 82 deg. in tents.
It sounds hot, but a house or tent at 84 deg. is tolerably
endurable, especially if there is a breeze. My tent is
twelve feet square inside, and contains a low pallet bed, a
table, chair, two camel trunks, and brass basin for washing.
I will get a sketch of the camp to send you.
_Nov. 18th._--This nomad life is agreeable in many respects,
and very healthy, and one sees a great deal of the country,
but it destroys time rather, as the march is not over,
generally, till half-past nine or ten, and then breakfast,
a most eagerly desired composition, and dressing afterwards,
do not leave much of the day before the cool evening comes
for exercise, or sight-seeing and dining, and by nine most
of us are in bed, or near it.
_Dec. 2._--Umbala.--We had a short march of six miles into
Umbala this morning, and I got leave from our colonel to
ride on and see the troops assemble to greet the
Governor-General. I never saw so splendid a sight: 12,000 of
the finest troops were drawn up in one line, and as I rode
slowly along the whole front, I had an excellent opportunity
of examining the varied materials of an Indian army. First
were the English Horse Artillery; then the dashing dragoons
of the 3d Queen's, most splendidly mounted and appointed;
then came the stern, determined-looking British footmen,
side by side with their tall and swarthy brethren from the
Ganges and Jumna,--the Hindoo, the Mussulman, and the white
man, all obeying the same word, and acknowledging the same
common tie; next to these a large brigade of guns, with a
mixture of all colors and creeds; then more regiments of
foot, the whole closed up by the regiments of native
cavalry: the quiet-looking and English-dressed Hindoo
troopers strangely contrasted with the wild Irregulars in
all the fanciful _un_uniformity of their native costume; yet
these last are the men _I_ fancy for service. Altogether, it
was a most interesting sight, either to the historian or
soldier, especially as one remembered that these were no men
of parade, but assembled here to be poured across the Sutlej
at a word.
The "pomp and circumstance" of war were soon to be exchanged for its
stern realities, as will be seen in the following letter to his
father, dated Christmas Day, 1845:--
CAMP, SULTANPOOR.
I take the first day of rest we have had, to write a few
hurried lines to relieve you from any anxiety you may have
felt at not hearing from me by the last mails, or from
newspaper accounts, which will, I fear, reach you before
this letter can. I am most thankful to be able to sit down
once more to write to you all but unharmed. Since I wrote, I
have been in four general engagements of the most formidable
kind ever known in India. For the first time we had to
contend with a brave and unconquered people, disciplined,
and led on like our own troops by European skill; and the
result, though successful to our arms, has been fearful
indeed as to carnage. You will see accounts in the papers
giving details more accurate than I can possibly furnish,
both of our wonderfully rapid and fatiguing marches, and of
the obstinate and bloody resistance we met with. On the 10th
of this month, on our usual quiet march to Sirhind with the
Governor-General's camp, we were surprised by being joined
by an additional regiment, and by an order for all
non-soldiers to return to Umbala. From that day we have had
the fatigues and exertions of actual warfare in their
broadest forms,--marching day and night unprecedented
distances, scarcity of sleep and food, and all the varieties
of cold and heat. I enjoyed all, and entered into it with
great zest, till we came to actual blows, or rather, I am
(_now_) half ashamed to say, till the blows were over, and I
saw the horrible scenes which ensue on war. I have had quite
enough of such sights now, and hope it may not be my lot to
be exposed to them again. Our loss has been most severe,
especially in officers. Our Sepoys could not be got to face
the tremendous fire of the Sikh artillery, and, as usual,
the more they quailed, the more the English officers exposed
themselves in vain efforts to bring them on. The greatest
destruction was, however, among the Governor-General's
staff,--only two (his own son and Colonel Benson) escaped
death or severe wounds. They seemed marked for destruction,
and certainly met it most gallantly. On the 15th we joined
the Commander-in-Chief, with his troops from Umbala, were
put off escort duty, and joined General Gilbert's division.
On the 17th we had a march of thirty miles, (in the daytime,
too,) with scanty food; on the 18th, after a fasting march
of twenty-five miles, we were summoned, at half-past four in
the afternoon, to battle, which lasted till long after dark.
Almost the first shot which greeted our regiment killed the
man standing by my side, and instantly afterwards I was
staggered by a ball from a frightened Sepoy behind me
grazing my cheek and blackening my face with the powder,--so
close was it to my head! We were within twenty, and at times
ten, yards of three guns blazing grape into us, and worse
than all, the bushes with which the whole ground was covered
were filled with marksmen who, unseen by us, could pick us
off at pleasure. No efforts could bring the Sepoys forward,
or half the loss might have been spared, had they rushed on
with the bayonet. We had three officers wounded out of our
small party, and lost many of the men. We were bivouacked on
the cold ground that night, and remained under arms the
whole of the following day. Just as we were going into
action, I stumbled upon poor Carey, whom you may remember to
have heard of at Price's, at Rugby. On going over the field
on the 30th, I found the body actually cut to pieces by the
keen swords of the Sikhs, and but for his clothes could not
have recognized him. I had him carried into camp for burial,
poor fellow, extremely shocked at the sudden termination of
our renewed acquaintance. On Sunday, the 21st, we marched
before daybreak in force to attack the enemy, who had
intrenched themselves behind their formidable artillery. The
action began in the afternoon, lasted the whole night, and
was renewed with daybreak. They returned again to the charge
as often as we gained any advantage, and it was evening
before they were finally disposed of by a charge of our
dragoons, _and our ammunition was exhausted!_--so near are
we in our most triumphant successes to a destruction as
complete! The results are, I suppose, in a political point
of view, immense indeed. We took from them nearly one
hundred large guns, and routed their vast army, prepared,
had they succeeded in beating us, to overrun Hindostan; and
it must be owned they had nearly succeeded! It will scarcely
be believed, but they had actually purchased and prepared
supplies as far into the interior of our country as Delhi,
and unknown to our authorities; and the whole of Northern
India was, as usual, ready to rise upon us at an hour's
notice. On the evening of the 21st, as we rushed towards the
guns, in the most dense dust and smoke, and under an
unprecedented fire of grape, our Sepoys again gave way and
broke. It was a fearful crisis, but the bravery of the
English regiments saved us. The Colonel (Hamilton), the
greater part of my brother officers, and myself, were left
with the colors and about thirty men immediately in front of
the batteries! Our escape was most providential, and is, I
trust, thankfully acknowledged by us. A ball (from a shell,
I fancy) struck my leg below the knee, but happily spared
the bone, and only inflicted a flesh wound. I was also
knocked down _twice_,--once by a shell bursting so close to
me as to kill the men behind me, and once by the explosion
of a magazine or mine. I am most thankful indeed for my
escape from death or maiming. The wound in my leg is
nothing, as you may judge when I tell you that I was on foot
or horseback the whole of the two following days. Last night
we moved on here about five miles from the scene of action,
and got some food, and into our beds, after four days and
nights on the ground, alternately tried with heat and cold
(now most severe at night), and nothing but an occasional
mouthful of black native bread. I think, during the four
days, all I had to eat would not compose half a home
breakfast-loaf, and for a day and night we had not even
water; when we did get water, after driving the enemy from
their camp, it was found to have been spoiled with
gunpowder! It was like eating Leamington water, but our
thirst was too great to stick at trifles.
_Dec. 26th._--We are resting here comfortably again in our
tents, and had a turkey for our Christmas dinner last night.
The rest is most grateful. We had only nine hours in bed out
of five nights, and then the next four were on the ground.
So you see I have come in for the realities of a soldier's
life pretty early in my career; and since I am spared, it is
doubtless a great thing for me in every way. There never has
been anything like it in India, and it is not often that an
action _anywhere_ has lasted thirty-six hours as ours did.
It is called a succession of three engagements, but the
firing never ceased for a quarter of an hour. Infantry
attacking guns was the order of the day, and the loss
occasioned by such a desperate resort was fearful. How
different your Christmas week will have been from mine! This
time last year I was quietly staying at Bisham, and now
sleeping on the banks of the Sutlej, with a sea of tents
around me for miles and miles! The last few days seem a
year, and I can scarcely believe that I have only been four
months in India, and only two with my regiment.
* * * * *
_To the_ Hon. James Thomason, _Lieutenant-Governor of Northwest
Provinces_.
CAMP, BOOTAWALLAH, _January 22d, 1846_.
There is very much in the state of things in this army both
discouraging and deeply disappointing to one who like myself
comes into the service with a strong predilection for the
profession, and a wish to enter into its duties thoroughly
and _earnestly_. I do not like to enter into particulars,
for I hold it very unmilitary, especially in so young a
soldier, to attempt to criticize the acts and motives of
one's superior, but I may _in private_ again express my
extreme disappointment at the state in which the Sepoys are
at present, and as far as I can judge from what is said in
conversation, there are but few officers in the army who do
not deplore it. In discipline and subordination they seem to
be lamentably deficient, especially towards the native
commissioned and non-commissioned officers. On the march, I
have found these last give me more trouble than the men
even. My brother officers say that I see an unfavorable
specimen in the 2d, as regards discipline, owing to their
frequent service of late, and the number of recruits; but I
fear the evil is very wide-spread. It may no doubt be traced
mainly to the want of European officers. This, however, is
an evil not likely to be removed on any large scale.
Meantime, unless some vigorous and radical improvements
take place, I think our position will be very uncertain and
even alarming in the event of extended hostilities. You must
really forgive my speaking so plainly, and writing my own
opinions so freely. You encouraged me to do so when I was at
Agra, if you remember, and I value the privilege too highly
as connected with the greater one of receiving advice and
counsel from you, not to exercise it, even at the risk of
your thinking me presumptuous and hasty in my opinions. I
imagine (in my own defence be it said) that three months of
marching and of service give you more insight into the
_real_ efficiency or evils of an army, than a much longer
time spent in cantonments. It is, of course, a deeply
interesting subject to me, and one of deep and anxious
reflection. I think the period of "doing duty," which I
shall have passed ere joining my future regiment, of the
greatest consequence and benefit, as enabling me to form a
judgment, to the best of my abilities, of the course to be
steered in the difficult voyage. It seems to me that the
great problem to be solved is how "_to do your own
business_," at the same time that "_you study to be quiet_"
_i. e._, how unostentatiously to do your appointed duty
thoroughly, without being deterred by the fear of being
_thought_ over-zealous or ostentatious.
At a later period, when it was proposed to erect a monument in
Lichfield Cathedral to the 80th Queen's, he wrote with reference to
their conduct in this action:--
It is, you know, a Staffordshire regiment, having been
raised originally by the Marquis of Anglesey, and has still
a great number of Staffordshire men in its ranks. It is a
splendid corps, well-behaved in cantonments, and first-rate
in action. I lay between them and my present regiment (1st
E. B. Fusileers) on the night of the 21st of December, at
Ferozeshah, when Lord Hardinge called out "80th! that gun
must be silenced." They jumped up, formed into line, and
advanced through the black darkness silently and firmly;
gradually we lost the sound of their tread, and anxiously
listened for the slightest intimation of their
progress,--all was still for five minutes, while they
gradually gained the front of the battery whose fire had
caused us so much loss. Suddenly we heard a dropping
fire,--a blaze of the Sikh cannon followed, then a thrilling
cheer from the 80th, accompanied by a rattling and murderous
volley as they sprang upon the battery and spiked the
monster gun. In a few more minutes they moved back quietly,
and lay down as before in the cold sand: but they had left
forty-five of their number and two captains to mark the
scene of their exploit by their graves.
* * * * *
CAMP, ARMY OF THE SUTLEJ, _Feb. 12th, 1846_.
The fortune of war has again interfered between me and my
good intentions of answering all my correspondence by this
mail. We have been knocked about for some days so
incessantly that there has been no chance of writing
anything; and even this scrawl, I fear, will hardly reach
you. You will hear publicly of our great victory of the
10th,[2] and of the total and final rout of the Sikh force.
But first, I must tell you that the 2d Grenadiers were sent
back about a week ago to the villages and posts in our rear,
to keep open the communication. Not liking the notion of
returning to the rear while an enemy was in front, I applied
immediately to do duty with another regiment; my petition
was granted; and I joined the 16th Grenadiers on the evening
of the 9th inst. About three in the morning we advanced
towards the Sikh intrenchments along the river's bank. Our
guns and ammunition had all come up a day or two before, and
during the night were placed in position to shell their
camp. At daybreak, seventeen heavy mortars and howitzers,
rockets, and heavy guns commenced a magnificent fire on
their position; at half-past eight the infantry
advanced,--Sir R. Dick's division on the right, and ours
(Gilbert's) in front,--covered by our fire from the
batteries. On we went as usual in the teeth of a dreadful
fire of guns and musketry, and after a desperate struggle we
got within their _triple_ and _quadruple_ intrenchments; and
then their day of reckoning came indeed. Driven from trench
to trench, and surrounded on all sides, they retired,
fighting most bravely, to the river, into which they were
driven pell-mell, a tremendous fire of musketry pouring on
them from our bank, and the Horse Artillery finishing their
destruction with grape. The river is literally choked with
corpses, and their camp full of dead and dying. An
intercepted letter of theirs shows that they have lost
20,000 in killed, wounded, and missing; all their guns
remaining in our hands. I had the pleasure myself of spiking
two guns which were turned on us. Once more I have escaped,
I am thankful to say, unhurt, except that a bullet took a
fancy to my little finger and cut the skin off the top of
it,--a mere pin scratch, though it spoiled a buckskin glove.
I am perfectly well; we cross in a day or two, but I fancy
have done with fighting.
* * * * *
_To his Sister._
LAHORE, _Feb. 27th, 1846_.
In honor of your birthday, I suppose, we crossed the Sutlej
on the 17th, and are now encamped close to old Runjeet
Singh's capital, without a shot having been fired on this
side the river! The war is over: sixty days have seen the
overthrow of the Sikh army, which, when that period
commenced, marched from the spot on which the victors are
now encamped, with no fewer than 100,000 fighting men, _now_
A broken and a routed host,
Their standards gone, their leaders lost.
So ends the tale of the mightiest army, and the best
organized, which India has seen.
I hope you will have got a scrap I wrote after the fight at
Sobraon in hopes it would reach you before the newspapers,
as I have no doubt you were all anxious enough on my
account, and indeed you well might be, for I can hardly
imagine (humanly speaking) how it was possible to go through
that storm of bullets and shot unhurt. I have indeed much to
be thankful for, and I hope I shall not forget the lesson. A
campaign is a wonderful dispeller of false notions and young
imaginations, and seems too stern a hint to be soon
forgotten.
About this time Mr. Thomason says, in a letter to my father:--
"I hear of William constantly from friends in camp, and am glad to
find that he is a great favorite in his regiment. I had some little
fear that his great superiority in age and attainments to those of his
own standing in the army might make him the object of envy and
disparagement. I felt that he had no easy task before him, and that it
would be difficult to conduct himself with discretion and becoming
humility in such a position. He was quite aware of the difficulty when
we talked the matter over at Agra, and I am much pleased to see the
success which has attended his prudent exertions."
LAHORE, _March 4th, 1846_.
The army breaks up now very soon, but I shall be posted
before that. I am trying to get into the 1st European
regiment, now stationed at Umbala, who have just been styled
Fusileers for their distinguished service. It is the finest
regiment in India, with white faces, too, and a very nice
set of officers. I have been brigaded with them all along.
It seems an age since the campaign opened. One _day_ of
fighting such as we have had fastens itself on the memory
more than a year of peaceful life. We must really have a
natural taste for fighting highly developed, for I catch
myself wishing and "asking for more," and grumbling at the
speedy settlement of things, and the prospect of cantonments
instead of field service. Is it not marvellous, as if one
had not had a surfeit of killing? But the truth is, _that_
is not the motive, but a sort of undefined ambition.... I
remember bursting into tears in sheer rage in the midst of
the fight at Sobraon at seeing our soldiers lying killed and
wounded. Don't let any of my friends forget me yet. I have
found a new one, I think, in Major Lawrence,[3] the new
President at this Court, thanks to the unwearying kindness
of Mr. Thomason.
In a letter of the same date to Hon. J. Thomason, the following
sentence occurs:--
I must thank you very much for making me known to Major
Lawrence, from whom I have received every sort of attention
and kindness. I have been very much struck with his
superiority, and freedom from diplomatic solemnity and
mystery, which is rather affected by the politicals and
officials.
* * * * *
CAMP, NUGGUR GHAT, ON THE SUTLEJ, _March 27th, 1846_.
The last returning regiment of the army of the Sutlej
crossed that river yesterday morning, and by to-morrow every
man will have left its banks, on their way to their
stations. It was a most interesting and picturesque sight to
see the army filing across the splendid bridge of boats
constructed by our engineers at this place. So many of the
native corps have been required for the new province and for
the Lahore garrison, that we had hardly any but Europeans
homeward-bound, which gave an additional and home interest
to the passage of the river. Dusty, travel-stained, and
tired, but with that cool, firm air of determination which
is the most marked characteristic of English soldiers,
regiment after regiment passed on, cavalry, artillery, and
infantry in succession, their bands playing quicksteps and
national tunes, as each stepped upon the bridge. To _you_
the sight would have been only interesting; but to those of
us who had seen the same corps three months ago, their
reduced numbers and fearfully thinned ranks told a sadder
tale. Regiments cut down to a third, individual companies
to a fourth or fifth of their former strength, gave a silent
but eloquent reply to the boastful strains of martial music,
and to the stirring influence of the pageant. As each
regiment moved up on this side the river, our fine old chief
addressed a few words of congratulation and praise to each;
they pushed on to their tents, and a genuine English cheer,
caught up and repeated from corps to corps, and a thundering
salute from the artillery, proclaimed the final dispersion,
and bid an appropriate farewell to the army of the Sutlej.
Thus ends my first campaign! To-morrow I march with the 26th
Native Infantry to Umbala, where I hope to be transferred to
the 1st Europeans. I was posted to the 26th a few days ago,
but have not joined yet, as I applied at once for an
exchange. Marching and living in tents is becoming
unpleasantly hot now, and in another fortnight will be very
bad. Yesterday we had a regular storm of wind and dust,
filling everything with sand, and darkening the air most
effectually; one's mouth, eyes, ears, and pockets get filled
with dust; you sit down to breakfast, and your plate is
ready loaded with sand, your coffee is excellently
thickened, and your milk would pass for clotted cream,--but
for the color. Then you get a sheet of paper, and vainly
imagine you're writing, but the sand conceals the last word
you write ere the ink can dry, and your pens split of
themselves with the dryness of the air. In truth, it is next
to impossible to do anything while the storm lasts, for
one's eyes smart and cry with the plenitude of grit; and if
you talk, you are set coughing with eating small stones! Yet
all this is far better than the damp-exhaling heat of
Bengal. Here the ground and air are as dry by night as by
day, and no exhalation poisons the freshness of any wind
that may be stirring.
* * * * *
UMBALA, _April 13th, 1846_.
Here I am once more. I am writing in a comfortable house,
and actually slept in one last night,--the first time I have
eaten or slept under a roof since the 3d of November; and on
the 10th I saw a lady again!
I find General Napier has written to his brother about me.
Scindh has been given over to the Bombay army, so that Sir
Charles can't do anything for me, but still the kindness is
all the same. Unfortunately, the note reached me three days
after Sir Charles left the army to return to Scindh, or I
might have had the pleasure of seeing him and speaking to
him.
* * * * *
CAMP, MORADABAD, ROHILCUND, _April 29th, 1846_.
It is time indeed to be getting under cover, for we have
been in the thick of the "hot winds." This sounds a very
mild word, but you should only just try it! Do you remember
ever holding your face over a stove when it was full of
fire? and the rush of hot air which choked you? Well,
something of that sort, of vast volume and momentum, blowing
what they call at sea "half a gale of wind," comes quietly
up, at first behind a wall of dust, and then with a roar
bursts upon you, scorching you, and shrivelling you up as if
you were "a rose that was plucked." It feels as if an
invisible, colorless flame was playing over your face and
limbs, scorching without burning you, and making your skin
and hair crackle and stiffen until you are covered with
"crackling" like a hot roast pig. This goes on day after day
from about eight or nine o'clock in the morning till sunset;
and, accompanied with the full power of the blazing sun of
India, produces an amount of heat and dryness almost
inconceivable. The only resource is to get behind a tatta
(or wet grass mat) hung up at one of the doors of the tent,
and to lie on the ground with as little motion as possible,
and endeavor to sleep or read it out. _Nunc veterum libris,
nunc somno et inertibus horis_,--I cannot go on, for the
"sweet forgetfulness" of the past is too much to expect!
To-day we have a new nuisance in the shape of a plague of
wood-lice; our camp is pitched in an old grove of
mango-trees, and is literally swarming with huge pale lice,
in numbers numberless. You cannot make a step without
slaying them, and they have already (noon) covered the whole
sides of the tents, chairs, beds, tables, and everything.
But one is really getting used to everything, and I hardly
expect to be _proud_ again. Our rest has been terribly
destroyed by this last month's marching, the usual hour for
the _reveille_ being two A. M., and this morning a quarter
to one!! and no power of quizzing can move our worthy major
to let us take it easily, though I don't scruple to tell him
that he has sold his shadow or his soul to the evil powers,
and forfeited the power of sleep, he is such a restless
animal! We breakfast at seven, or even a quarter past six,
constantly, and dine at seven P. M.; so one has a fair
opportunity of practising abstinence, as I rigidly abstain
from eating in the mean time, or drinking. After all, it is
very healthy weather, and I imagine there is less harm done
to the health in the hot winds than even in the cold
weather. I have never been so well in India.
* * * * *
NYNEE TAL, _May 14th, 1846_.
I am writing from the last new Hill Station, discovered
about three years ago by an adventurous traveller, and now
containing forty houses and a bazaar. It is a "tal," or
lake, of about a mile in length, lying in a basin of the
mountains, about 6,200 feet above the sea; the hills rising
about 1,800 feet on all sides of it, and beautifully wooded
from their very summits down to the water's brink. How I got
here remains to be told. You will remember that I had
applied, some time ago, to be transferred to the 1st Bengal
European Fusileers. Well, after keeping me in suspense some
seven weeks, and sending me the whole way from Lahore to
Bareilly in April and May, I received notice that my
application was granted, and a civil request to go back
again. I had had enough of marching in the plains, and
travelling dak would have been madness for me, so I
determined on going up into the hills, and making my way
across the mountain ranges to Subathoo, where my regiment is
stationed. A good-natured civilian at Bareilly offered to
take me with him to this place, from whence I could make a
good start. We started on the morning of the 11th, and drove
to Rampoor, stayed there till midnight, and then set off for
the hills. By daylight we got to the edge of the "Terai,"
the far-famed hotbed of fever and tigers, swamps and timber,
along the whole ridge of the Himalayas, stretching along the
plains at their feet in a belt of about twenty miles from
the Indus to the Burhampooter. Here we found horses awaiting
us, and, mounting at once, started for a ride of
twenty-seven miles before breakfast. The first part of the
"Terai" is merely a genuine Irish bog, and the oily, watery
ditches and starved-looking cows shout out "Fever," on all
sides of you. The last ten miles, to the foot of the hills,
is through a dense mass of ragged trees in all stages of
growth and decay, "horrida, inculta, hirsuta,"--moist,
unpleasant, and ugly. At length we reached the first low
woody ranges of the hills, and following the dry bed of a
mountain stream, by noon we doubled the last ridge, and
descended upon our lake. None of these hills are to be
compared in beauty with Scotland and Wales, though very
fine, and inexpressibly refreshing, almost _affecting_,
after the dead flat we have lived in so long. As soon as my
servants arrive, I start hence by myself, through an
unfrequented sea of vast mountains, by way of Landour, for
Mussoorie, to Simla and Subathoo. It is about 340 miles, and
will take me thirty-two or thirty-four days to accomplish. I
mean to take no pony, but trust that my old powers of
walking and endurance will revive in the mountain air.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] At Sobraon.
[3] Sir H. Lawrence, K. C. B.
CHAPTER III.
FIRST BENGAL EUROPEAN FUSILEERS.--LAWRENCE ASYLUM.--APPOINTMENT
TO GUIDE CORPS.
SUBATHOO, _June 16th, 1846_.
When I wrote to you last from Sireenuggur, I hoped to have
been able to reach this place by way of the hills and Simla;
but, before I got to Mussoorie, the early setting in of the
rains made it so difficult and unpleasant (and likely to be
dangerous) to get on, that, after spending two days there, I
rode down to Deyra Dhoon, and came dak through Saharunpoor
and Umbala to Kalka, at the foot of these hills, where I
found my beast awaiting my arrival, and mounted the
seventeen miles of hill at once. Here I am, at last, with my
own regiment, and with the prospect of being quiet for four
months. I am eighth Second Lieutenant; a distinguished
position (is it not?) at the age of five-and-twenty. The
campaign, I am sorry to say, did me no good in the way of
promotion, owing to my not having been "posted" permanently
before it commenced.
* * * * *
SUBATHOO, _July 3d, 1846_.
I hope you will congratulate me on getting into my present
splendid corps, the 1st Fusileers, now, alas, a mere shadow
of what it was six months ago. We could only muster 256 men
under arms when we were inspected by Sir R. Gilbert on the
1st; but, then, there was a most picturesque body of
convalescents present with their empty sleeves, pale faces,
and crutches, but looking proudly conscious of their good
conduct, and ready "to do it again." We are under much
stricter discipline in this corps, both officers and men,
and obliged to be orderly and submissive. No bad thing for
us either. I hold there is more real liberty in being under
a decent restraint than in absolute freedom from any check.
I have been much more reconciled to India since I joined
this regiment. It is pleasant to have white faces about one,
and hear one's own tongue spoken; and then, besides, there
is a home-loving feeling in this corps which I have never
met with in India. I believe we would each and all migrate
to England, if we had our own way.
* * * * *
_To his Father._
SIMLA, _Sept. 2d, 1846_.
I came here on the 31st for a week, to stay with Major
Lawrence (now a Colonel and C. B.), who dined and slept with
me at Subathoo last week, and pressed me to come here. I am
nothing loth, as I like him amazingly, and value his
friendship very much, and pick up a great deal of
information as to India, and Indians black and white. He has
kindly offered to take me with him for a tour through
Jullunder Doab, and up to Jummoo, Rajah Gholab Singh's camp
and court. He says he can give or get me leave to accompany
him. My colonel says he won't give any one leave after the
14th of this month. Which is right remains to be seen, but
I think you may calculate that the "Agent to the
Governor-General" will prevail, and I shall see Jummoo.
I am now writing in his room with the incessant entrances
and exits of natives,--rajahs, princes, vakeels, &c. &c.,
and officers civil and military; and the buzz of business
and confusion of tongues, black and white, learned and
unlearned, on all subjects, political, religious (at this
minute they are disputing what "the Church" means), and
military, so that I am tolerably puzzled. I have been taking
a tremendously long walk this morning about the hills and
valleys, with Mr. and Mrs. Currie, and enjoying the beauties
of Simla.
* * * * *
SIMLA, _Sept. 14th, 1846_.
My original week at Simla has grown into a month, thanks to
Colonel Lawrence's pressing, and Colonel Orchard's (_my_
colonel's) kindness. I should hardly like staying so long
with Colonel Lawrence, (especially as I live day and night
in the same room with him and his papers, regularly camp
fashion,) but that he wishes it, and I manage to give him a
slight helping hand by making _precis_ of his letters, and
copying confidential papers. He is amazingly kind, and tells
me all that is going on, initiating me into the mysteries of
"political" business, and thus giving me more knowledge of
things and persons Indian than I should learn in a year of
ordinary life, aye! or in three years either. This is a
great advantage to my ultimate prospects, of course
independently of the power he possesses of giving me a lift
in the world when I am of sufficient standing to hold any
appointment.
He makes me work at Hindostanee, and has given me a lesson
or two in the use of the theodolite, and other surveying
instruments, to the end that I may get employed in the
Surveying Department, after two years of which he says "I
shall be fit for a Political."
I have been very fortunate in many ways, more so than I had
any right to expect. If I were only nearer to you all, and
had any old friends about me, I should have nothing to
regret or wish for. It is _there_ that the shoe especially
pinches. All minor annoyances are easily got rid of, but one
_does_ find a wonderful lack of one's old friends and old
associations. Society is very different here from ours at
home, and different as it is I have seen very little of it.
Nor am I, with my previous habits, age, and education, the
person to feel this an indifferent matter; but on the
contrary, all the drawbacks of Indian existence come with
redoubled force from the greatness of the contrast. Still I
do not let these things annoy me, or weigh down my spirits,
but strive, by keeping up English habits, tastes, and
feelings, and looking forward to a run home, (thus having a
motive always in view,) to make the best of everything as it
occurs, and to act upon the principle, that mere outward
circumstances don't make a man's happiness. If I have one
feeling stronger than another, it is contempt for a "regular
Indian," a man who thinks it fine to adopt a totally
different set of habits and morals and fashions, until, in
forgetting that he is an Englishman, he usually forgets also
that he is a Christian and a gentleman. Such characters are
happily rare now, but there are many fragments of it on a
small scale, and always must be so, so long as the men who
are to support the name and power of England in Asia are
sent out here at an age when neither by education nor
reflection can they have learnt all or even a fraction of
what those words imply. It would be a happy thing for India
and for themselves if _all_ came out here at a more advanced
age than now, but _one_ alone breaking through the custom in
that respect made and provided, must not expect to escape
the usual fate, or at least the usual annoyances, of
innovators.
I have enjoyed my visit here very much, and though I have
not sought them, have made one or two very pleasant
acquaintances, or improved them. I have been very little
out, and passed my time almost entirely with Colonel
Lawrence and his family, _i. e._, his brother and the two
sisters-in-law. Things are not looking well on the frontier.
Cashmere and the hill country wont submit to Gholab Singh,
to whom we gave them over, and have been thrashing his
troops and killing his ministers; and I expect October will
see an army assembled to frighten them into submission, or
interfere with a strong arm, as the case may be.
We seem bound to see him established on the throne we carved
out for him, and it is our only chance of keeping peace and
order; though at the best he is such a villain, and so
detested, that I imagine it will be but a sorry state of
quietness:--
The torrent's smoothness ere it dash below.
In a letter to his wife, written during this visit, Sir H. Lawrence
says:--
_Sept. 1st._--"I brought up with me from Subathoo a fine
young fellow, by name Hodson, son of the Archdeacon of
Stafford. He is now (10 P. M.) sleeping in my little
office-room, where I am writing. Thomason recommended him
to me, and I have seldom met so promising a young fellow. He
left the native branch of the army at the expense of some
steps, because he did not like the conduct of the Sepoys. He
was for four years with Dr. Arnold, and two in the sixth
form under his eye. He speaks most affectionately of him. I
will try to get leave for him for a month to accompany me to
Lahore and Jummoo in October.... I get a good deal of help
from Hodson, who works _willingly_ and _sensibly_. Perhaps
you may meet the family at Lichfield."
LAHORE, _October 14th, 1846_.
As I hoped when I wrote last, I am again writing from the
capital of the "Singhs," but, alas for the "lions," their
tails are very much down in the world since this time last
year, when the "fierce and formidable army" assembled to
invade our tempting provinces. Nearly half the garrison has
marched across the Ravee, and not more than 5,000 or 6,000
British troops now hold the far-famed capital of Runjeet
Singh.
You must not be alarmed by the accounts you will see in the
papers by this mail of the advance of two forces from Lahore
and Jullunder towards Jummoo. They are not to take any
active part in the operations of Gholab Singh for the
recovery of Cashmere from the rebellious Sheikh Imaumoodeen;
our troops are to hold the Maharaja's country for him while
he advances with his whole disposable force, augmented by a
Sikh auxiliary army.
It is probable that the Sheikh will give in without
fighting as soon as he hears the preparations made by both
powers for his coercion. Indeed, a letter has arrived from
Cashmere to say he _has_ given in; but he is a wily fellow,
and I mightily distrust him. I only know if _I_ was in
Cashmere with my army at my back, _I_ would not give in as
long as a man was left to pull a trigger! The Agent (Colonel
Lawrence) and I start to-morrow evening, going seventy miles
the first day, and hope to reach Bhimbur, at the foot of the
hills, on the 17th, thence to go up and join the Maharaja,
and accompany his army to Cashmere. If he fights we shall
see the fun; if not, we are to accompany him and keep him
from excesses and injustice in the valley, and return here,
I fancy, in about a month or six weeks. Of course, in event
of the two armies coming to blows, it will probably be some
time longer ere we return. I am delighted at the thoughts of
seeing Cashmere, and am gaining great advantage from being
with these "politicals" in the way of learning the
languages, and method of governing the natives. I have been
hard at work day and night for some time now, writing for
Colonel Lawrence. I left Subathoo on the 1st, and after a
ride of some twenty miles through the hills, joined Colonel
Lawrence and Mr. Christian, and after a shake-down in a
little mud bungalow, and an amusing dinner, (served up in
two brass basins, standing on a bed,) and a breakfast to
match, we rode down to Roopur, on the Sutlej. Here we took
boat, and floated down the river to Ferozepoor, and came
across to Lahore during the night in a capital barouche
belonging to the Ranee, with relays of horses and an escort
of cavalry.
* * * * *
THANNA, AT THE FOOT OF THE PASS INTO CASHMERE, _Oct.
26th, 1846_.
Our tent is pitched on the top of a little spur from the
mountain side, and beneath us lie, in quaint picturesque
confusion, scattered over the valley and the little
staircase-like rice-fields, the mingled hosts of Lahore and
Jummoo. The spare stalwart Sikh, with his grizzled beard and
blue turban of the scantest dimensions, side by side with
the huge-limbed Affghan, with voluminous headgear and
many-colored garments. The proud Brahmin in the same ranks
with the fierce "Children of the Faithful;" the little
active Hillman; the diminutive, sturdy, platter-faced
Ghoorka, and the slight-made Hindostanee, collected in the
same tents, and all alike clothed in a caricature of the
British uniform. I have been very much interested and amused
by this march with a native army, so different from our own
proceedings and our own military power,--albeit the British
army will soon be as varied in its composition.
I have seen a great deal of the native Sirdars or chiefs,
especially Tej Singh who commanded the Sikh forces in the
war, and of the Maharaja. The former a small, spare little
man, marked with the smallpox, and with a thin and scanty
beard, but sharp and intelligent, and by his own account _a
hero_. The Maharaja is a fine, tall, portly man, with a
splendid expressive face, and most gentlemanly, pleasing
manner, and fine-toned voice,--altogether the most pleasing
Asiatic I have seen,--to all appearance the gentlest of the
gentle, and the most sincere and truthful character in the
world; and in his habits he is certainly exemplary; but he
is the cleverest hypocrite in the world; as sharp and acute
as possible, devoured by avarice and ambition, and when
roused, horribly cruel. This latter accusation he rebuts, by
alleging the necessity of the case and the ferocity of those
he has to deal with. To us, however, his fondness for
flaying men alive, cutting off their noses and ears and
hands, &c., savors _rather_ of the inexcusable. He was
accused of having flayed 12,000 men, which he indignantly
asserted was a monstrous calumny, as he only skinned
_three_; afterwards he confessed to _three hundred_! Yet he
is not a bit worse, and in many ways infinitely better, than
most native princes. Lawrence doubts whether _one_ could be
found with fewer faults, if placed in similar circumstances.
Avitabile, to the disgrace of his European blood, was far
more cruel. The stories current in the Punjaub of his
abominations are horrible. The costumes of these chiefs
would delight you: they never make a mistake in colors, and
the effect is always good, however bright they may be. This
force is (as I told you) moving up to turn the Sheikh
Imaumoodeen, the rebellious vassal of the Lahore Government,
out of Cashmere, in virtue of the treaty ceding it to Gholab
Singh. Up to yesterday, I expected it would be a fight, but
yesterday the Sheikh sent letters to say he was sorry and
repentful, and was on his way to tender his submission. So
we wait here to receive him. This will not, however, prevent
my visit to the valley, as Colonel Lawrence intends to
accompany the Maharaja to pacify and take possession.
It is very cold here, though not much above 5,000 feet above
the sea.
* * * * *
_To his Father._
SHUPYEN, IN CASHMERE, _Nov. 6th, 1846_.
I write a hurried line to announce my safe arrival in the
valley. On the 1st instant we got hold of the rebellious
Sheikh, and sent him down to the plains; and yesterday,
Colonel Lawrence, Captain Browne, and myself, rode into the
valley, amid the acclamations of an admiring population--of
beggars! I am writing at sunrise in a little tent, and in
spite of two coats and waistcoats, I am nearly "friz." We
crossed the Pir Punjal Pass on the 4th, 12,000 feet above
the sea, with snow all around us, and slept on this side in
an old serai; I say _slept_, because we went to bed; but
sleeping was out of the question, from the cold and uproar
of all our followers and their horses, crowded into a
court-yard thirty feet square, horses and men quarrelling
and yelling all night long. The view from the top of the
Pass was very fine, but the wind far too high to take more
than a peep of it without losing one's eyes; but the road
from Thanna to the summit was most lovely the whole way,
winding up a glen wooded magnificently, and the rocks
towering above us on all sides; the trees were all in their
varied autumn dress, surmounted by forests of pine;
altogether, I never saw so grand a scene. As the Sheikh's
submission has cut the Gordian knot of politics here, we
shall only stay a few days to see the valley, and install
the Maharaja, (who is following us with his force by slow
stages,) and then rush back to Lahore and Subathoo.
This is said to be the largest town but three in the valley.
It is a poverty-stricken, scattered hamlet of mud houses
with wooden roofs, the upper half being generally rough open
lattice-work or railing, with alternate supports of unbaked
bricks; low mud inclosures, and open waste spaces between,
dedicated to dogs and dunghills. The whole is thickly grown
over with fine apple and walnut trees, the staple fruits
(with the grape) of the valley, and the food of the people.
_They_ are a poor wretched set, only good for beasts of
burden,--and certainly they can carry a vast load,--their
dress, both men and women, being a loose, wide-sleeved
smock-frock of dirty sackcloth-looking woollen. The men wear
a dirty skullcap on their shaven "nobs," and the women a
crimson machine, like a flower-pot saucer inverted, from
which depends a veil or cloth of the same texture as the
frock; legs and feet clothed in their native dirt. The women
are atrociously ugly, and screech like the witches in
_Macbeth_,--so much so, that when the Agent asked me to give
them a rupee or two, I felt it my duty to refuse, firmly but
respectfully, on the ground that it would be encouraging
ugliness! I fancy the climate and the soil are unrivalled,
but years of poverty and oppression have reduced to a nation
of beggars what ought to be a Paradise. We go hence after
breakfast to Islumabad, at the eastern end of the valley;
and spend a day or two in looking about us, and floating
down the river to Cashmere itself, by which time our
"prince" will have arrived. I am the luckiest dog unhung to
have actually got into Cashmere. I fancy I am the first
officer of our army who has been here, save the few who have
come officially. These delightful breezes are most
invigorating. I only wish you could all enjoy these travels
with me. I expect to be back at Subathoo by the 1st of
December.
In a letter to my father about this time, Mr. Thomason says:--
"I am very glad to observe that such an intimacy has sprung up between
Colonel Lawrence and your William. He could not be under better
direction.
"Colonel Lawrence has evidently taken him entirely into his
confidence, which cannot but be of the greatest use to him in his
future career. He will have opportunities of observation and
instruction now, which very few possess after a long period of
service. To be selected, too, as his confidant by a man of Colonel
Lawrence's stamp, is no small feather in the cap of any young man. He
stands deservedly high also in the esteem of all who know him; and if
it please God to spare his life and give him health, his prospects are
as good as any man's can be in this country."
Colonel Lawrence having discovered that my brother could _work_, was
by no means disposed to let him remain without full occupation, as his
next letter will show:--
SUBATHOO, _April 1st, 1847_.
I am wonderfully well and flourishing, and have lots to do.
Lawrence has made me undertake the secretaryship of the new
Asylum for European Children, building some ten miles hence,
which will give me volumes of correspondence, and leagues,
nay latitudes of riding. Nevertheless, it is well, and it is
a good work. The responsibility will be great, as a
committee of management, on an average three hundred miles
apart, are rather nominal in their supervision of things.
SUBATHOO, _April 1st, 1847_.
If my locomotive instinct has been brought into play in
India, as you suggest, my constructive organs are likely to
have their share of exercise. I have the entire direction
and arrangement of the new Hill Asylum on my hands just now.
It is seven miles hence, of mountain roads, and what with
going and coming, planning, instructing, and supervising, my
time is pretty well occupied, to say nothing of my regiment,
and private affairs. Building a house in India is a
different affair from one's previous experiences. You begin
from the forest and the quarry, have to get lime burnt,
trees cut down, bricks made, planks sawn up, the ground got
ready, and then watch the work foot by foot,--showing this
"nigger" how to lay his bricks, another the proper
proportions of a beam, another the construction of a door,
and to the several artisans the mysteries of a screw, a
nail, and a hinge. You cannot say to a man, "Make me a wall
or a door," but you must with your own hands measure out his
work, teach him to saw away here, to plane there, or drive
such a nail, or insinuate such another suspicion of glue.
And when it comes to be considered that this is altogether
new work to me, and has to be excuded by cogitation on the
spot, so as to give an answer to every inquirer, you may
understand the amount of personal exertion and attention
required for the work.
I have the sole direction and control of nearly four hundred
and fifty workmen, including paying them, keeping accounts,
drawing plans, and everything. I have to get earth dug for
bricks, see the moulds made and watch the progress of them
till the kiln is full, get wood for the kiln, and direct the
lighting of the same, and finally provide a goat to
sacrifice to the demon who is supposed to turn the bricks
red! Then I must get bamboos and grass cut for thatching,
and string _made_ for the purpose; send about the hills for
sand for mortar, and limestone to burn, see it mixed and
prepared, and then show the niggers how to use it. Then the
whole of the wood-work must be set out and made under one's
own eye, and a lump of iron brought from the mine to be
wrought (also under one's direction) into nails and screws,
before a single door can be set up; and when to all this is
added the difficulty of getting hands (I mean in the hills),
and the bother of watching the idlest and most cunning race
on earth, you may suppose my "unpaid magistracy" is no
sinecure. I am not exaggerating or indeed telling half the
difficulty, for fear you should think the whole a romance.
You will naturally ask how I learnt all these trades. I can
only say that you can't be more astonished than I am myself,
and can only satisfy you by the theory that "necessity is
the mother of invention." I am seldom able to sit down from
sunrise to sunset, when I get a hasty dinner, and am then
only too glad to sleep off the effects of the day. How I
have escaped fever during the last month I cannot think, as
it has been terribly hot in the sun, even in the hills, and
I have lived in the blaze of it pretty constantly. Colonel
Lawrence seems determined I shall have nothing to stop me,
for his invariable reply to every question is, "Act on your
own judgment;" "Do what you think right;" "I give you _carte
blanche_ to act in my name, and draw on my funds," and so
forth.
Are you aware of the nature of the institution? It was
started, in idea, by Colonel Lawrence some two or three
years ago, and a sufficient sum of money for a commencement
having been raised, he charged me with the erection of the
necessary buildings, and the organization and setting in
motion of the great machine which is to regenerate and save
from moral and physical degradation, sickness, and death,
the children of the British soldiers serving in India. The
object is to teach them all things useful, while you give
them the advantage of a healthy climate, removed from the
evil influence of a barrack-room. The children are to remain
in the Asylum until their parents return to England, or till
old enough to join the ranks, or be otherwise provided for.
Another drag upon my hands is the care of a small European
boy, who was lately found up in Cabul, and is supposed to be
the son of some soldier of the destroyed army. He has been
brought up as a Mussulman, and made to believe his father
was such, and is a very bigot. Colonel Lawrence sent him to
me from Lahore, but forgot to write about him, so I know no
more of him than I have seen in the newspapers, and have no
idea what to do with him, or where he is to go. He is rather
a nuisance, and I shall be glad when he goes, as there is
little but his odd fate to interest one in him; and I have
considerable doubts as to his genuine origin. He is more
like a half-caste than an "European." Our communication is
brief, as he speaks but little Hindostanee, and I less
Persian. The Asylum is a much more interesting occupation,
as, independently of its object, there is a pleasure in
covering a fine mountain with buildings of one's own
designing.
A few days later he writes:--
My last few days at the Asylum were enlivened by the arrival
of Mrs. George Lawrence, whose tent was pitched close to
mine, on the hill-top. She is a great acquisition in a
forest life, and a very nice person,--the wife of the
Captain Lawrence who was one of the Cabul prisoners. She is
to be superintendress until the arrival of the future man
from England. I have fourteen little girls to take care of,
by the same token, and listen to the grumblings of their
nurses. In short, I don't know myself, and that is the long
and short of it. I am going to Simla for a day or two, to
see Mr. Thomason.
And again, to his brother:--
The state of things is so provokingly quiet and placid, that
there seems but small chance of our being called upon for
another rush across country (called a "forced march"), like
the one of December, 1845; and one is obliged to take to
anything that offers, to avoid the "taedium vitae" which the
want of employment engenders in this "lovely country," in
those, at least, who have not learnt to exist in the
philosophical medium of brandy and cheroots. Did I tell you,
by-the-bye, that I abjured tobacco when I left England, and
that I have never been tempted, by even a night "al fresco,"
to resume the delusive habit? Nor have I told you (because I
despaired of your believing it) that I have declined from
the paths of virtue in respect to beer also, these two years
past, seldom or never even tasting that once idolized
stimulant!! It has not been caused alone by a love of
eccentricity, but by the very sensitive state of my inner
man, (achieved in India,) which obliges me to live by rule.
This is all very edifying, no doubt, to _you_; to me it is
especially so, for I believe if I get on well in India, it
will be owing, physically speaking, to my _digestion_.
SUBATHOO, _June 18th, 1847_.
I am getting on famously at the Asylum just now, and have
succeeded in getting the children under cover before the
rains. I have narrowly escaped a bad fever through overwork
in the sun, but, by taking it in time, I got right again.
The weather has since taken a turn, and become much cooler,
besides which my principal anxiety is over for the season. I
have certainly had a benefit of work, both civil and
literary, for the Institution, and since Colonel Lawrence
put an advertisement in the papers, desiring all anxious
persons to apply to me, I have had enough on my hands. It is
all very well, but interferes with my reading no little; and
I am sure to get more kicks than thanks for my pains from an
ungrateful and undiscerning public. However, as long as
Colonel Lawrence leaves everything so completely in my
hands, and trusts so implicitly to my skill and honesty, it
would be a shame not to work "_un_-like a nigger."
It is intended that the children should remain in the
Institution until they are eighteen years of age, if their
fathers be alive, and until somehow or other provided for,
should they be orphans. The majority of the boys will, of
course, become soldiers; but my belief is, that having been
brought up in the delightful climate of the Himalaya, they
will, after ten or fifteen years, settle down in the various
stations and slightly elevated valleys in these hills, as
traders and cultivators, and form the nucleus of the first
British colony in India. My object is to give them English
habits from the first, which they have in most cases to
learn, from being brought up by native nurses from infancy.
Part of the scheme is to make the Institution support
itself, and I am very shortly going to start a farm-yard. I
have already got a fine large garden in full swing; and here
you may see French beans, cabbages, strawberry plants, and
fine potatoes (free from disease). I steadfastly refuse the
slightest dash of color in admitting children. People may
call this illiberal, if they please; the answer is obvious.
Half-castes stand the climate of the plains too well to need
a hill sanitorium, and by mixing them with English children
you corrupt those whom you wish to benefit. The little boy
who was lately redeemed from Cabul, and whom Colonel
Lawrence consigned to my care, is the plague of my
existence. He has the thoroughly lying, deceitful habits,
and all the dirt, of the Affghan races, and not a single
point of interest to counterbalance them.
* * * * *
SUBATHOO, _August, 1847_.
I have some hopes, though but faint ones, of being relieved
from the necessity of a move to Cawnpore, [whither his
regiment had been ordered,] by obtaining a berth under
Colonel Lawrence. I know that he has asked for me, and, I
believe, for an appointment which would please me more than
any other he could find, as being one of the most
confidential nature, and involving constant locomotion, and
plenty of work both for head, nerve, and body. But I must
not be sanguine, as we have already a large proportion of
officers away from the regiment, and I am a young soldier,
though, alas! growing grievously old in years.
The appointment alluded to was to the "Corps of Guides," then recently
organized by Colonel Lawrence for service in the Punjaub. While this
question, however, was still pending, there seemed a prospect of
Lieut. Hodson's succeeding to the adjutancy of his regiment, and
Colonel Lawrence, as will be seen from the subjoined letter,
recommended his accepting it, if offered:--
"SIMLA, _Sept. 11th_.
"MY DEAR HODSON,--I have spoken to the Governor-General
about you, who at once replied, 'Let him take the
adjutancy.' He wishes you well, but is puzzled by the
absentee question. We are all, moreover, agreed on the
usefulness to yourself of being employed for a time as
adjutant to a regiment. There are always slips, but I know
of no man of double or treble your standing who has so good
a prospect before him. Favor and partiality do occasionally
give a man a lift, but depend upon it that _his_ is the best
chance in the long run who helps himself. So far you have
done this manfully, and you have reason to be proud of being
selected at one time for three different appointments by
three different men.[4] Don't however, be too proud. Learn
your duties thoroughly. Continue to study two or three hours
a day; not to pass in a hurry, but that you may do so two or
three years hence with _eclat_. Take advantage of Becher's
being at Kussowlee to learn something of surveying. All
knowledge is useful; but to a soldier, or official of any
sort in India, I know no branch of knowledge which so well
repays the student.
"In Oriental phrase, pray consider that much is said in this
hurried scrawl, and believe that I shall watch your career
with warm interest.
"I am, very sincerely yours,
"H. M. LAWRENCE."
The expected vacancy, however, did not occur, and Colonel Lawrence
accordingly renewed his application for my brother's services in the
Punjaub, and, as will be seen, with success. In the beginning of
October he writes:--
I have every reason to expect that before many days I shall
be gazetted as attached to the Guide Corps. The immediate
result of my appointment will be a speedy departure to
Lahore with Colonel Lawrence, who returns there to arrange
matters before going home.
And on the 16th:--
You will, I am sure, rejoice with me at my unprecedented
good fortune in being appointed to a responsible and
honorable post, almost before, by the rules of the service,
I am entitled to take charge of a company of Sepoys. I shall
even be better off than I thought; instead of merely "doing
duty" with the Guide Corps, I am to be the second in
command.
The next chapter will show how well Lieut. Hodson justified Colonel
Lawrence's selection of him for so responsible a command, one which
the course of events made far more important than could then have
been foreseen. It was in this that he laid the foundations of his
reputation as an "unequalled partisan leader," and acquired his
experience of the Sikhs, and extraordinary influence over them.
FOOTNOTE:
[4] At this very juncture, the Adjutant-General of the army had also
applied for Lieut. Hodson.
CHAPTER IV.
EMPLOYMENT IN THE PUNJAUB AS SECOND IN COMMAND OF THE CORPS
OF GUIDES, AND ALSO AS ASSISTANT TO THE RESIDENT AT LAHORE.
_From October, 1847, during the Campaign of 1848-9, to the Annexation
of the Punjaub in March, 1849._
CAMP, KUSSOOR, _Nov. 15th, 1847_.
I almost forget the many events that have happened since I
wrote last. I believe I was "at home" in my snug little
cottage in Subathoo, and now I am in a high queer-looking
native house among the ruins of this old stronghold of the
Pathans; with orders "to make a good road from Lahore to the
Sutlej, distance forty miles," in as brief a space as
possible. On the willing-to-be-generally-useful principle
this is all very well, and one gets used to turning one's
hand to everything, but certainly (but for "circumstances
over which I had no control") I always labored under the
impression that I knew nothing at all about the matter.
However, Colonel Lawrence walked into my room promiscuously
one morning, and said, "Oh, Hodson, we have agreed that you
must take in hand the road to Ferozepoor,--you can start in
a day or two;" and _here I am_. Well, I have galloped across
the country hither and thither, and peered into distances
with telescopes, and inquired curiously into abstruse (and
obtuse) angles, rattled Gunter's chains, and consulted
compasses and theodolites, till I have an idea of a road
that will astonish the natives not a little. Last night I
was up half the night, looking out for fires which I had
ordered to be lighted in sundry places along the line of the
Sutlej at a fixed hour, that I might find the nearest point.
This morning, I had a grand assembly of village "punches,"
to discuss with them the propriety of furnishing able-bodied
men for the work. By a little artful persuasion, I succeeded
in raising 700 from a small district, and am going onwards
to hold another such "county meeting" to-morrow. The mode
and fashion that has always obtained in public works under
native governments, has been to give an order to seize _all_
the inhabitants, and make them work,--_and not pay them
then_. These gentry, therefore, have been so bullied by
their Sikh masters, that they hardly believe my offers of
ready-money payments. My predecessor, an artillery officer,
who came here on the same errand, was turned off for
resorting to violent measures in his anxiety to get hold of
workmen, having hung some of the head men up by the heels to
trees _till they were convinced_. He got no good (nor hands
either) by his dodge. So I was sent here on the other
persuasion, and you will be glad to hear, for the credit of
the family, that I am gammoning the dear old punches most
deliciously. They'd give me anything, bless their innocent
hearts! when I get under the village tree with them, or by
the village well, and discourse eloquently on the blessing
to society of having destroyed the Sikhs, and on the
lightness of their land-tax. I hope to be relieved in a
month, and go up to Peshawur to join "the Guides," for this
is cruelly hard work, and I have had enough for one year of
native work-people. Besides, I am not strong yet, and have
a horrid cold. I would give anything to be able to sit down
and read a book quietly, a luxury I have not enjoyed for
many a long day. Colonel Lawrence starts for England on the
30th for two years. I hope you will contrive to see him, and
make his acquaintance. Sir F. Currie is to be his successor
during his absence.
_December 1st._
I have been at Lahore to receive Colonel Lawrence's parting
instructions, and say good-bye to him, poor fellow. He is a
genuinely kind-hearted mortal, and has been a brother to me
ever since I knew him. I hope to see him back in two years,
invigorated and renewed, to carry out the good work which he
has so nobly begun.
* * * * *
_To his Sister._
CAMP, KUSSOOR, _Dec. 15th, 1847_.
Your letter met me on my road two days ago, and emerged from
the folds of a Sikh horseman's turban, to my great delight.
I got off my horse, and walked along, driving him before me
till I had read the packet. You must not conclude, because I
am writing to you a second time from this place, that I have
been here ever since I first commenced operations in these
parts. I have been twice to Lahore, and several times to
various intermediate and more distant places, since then. In
short, you may give up all idea of being able to imagine
where I may be at any given time. My work has progressed
considerably. In three weeks I have collected and got into
working order upwards of a thousand most unwilling
laborers, surveyed and marked out some twenty miles of road
through a desert and forest, and made a very large piece of
it. I am happy to say I am to be relieved in a day or two,
and sent to survey another district. I have had one or two
visitors the last few days, and therefore not been so lonely
as usual; but my time has been even more than ever occupied.
My duties are nearly as various as there are hours in the
day; at one time digging a trench, at another time
investigating breaches of the peace. I am a sort of justice
of the peace for general purposes, and have to listen to and
inquire into complaints, and send cases which I think worthy
of it for trial to Lahore. I caught as neat a case of
robbing and murder the other day as ever graced Stafford
Assizes; to say nothing of endless modes of theft, more or
less open, according to the wealth or power of the stealer.
This is the most remarkable scene of ruin I have met with
for many a long day; erst, a nest of the abodes of wealthy
Pathan nobles, and now a desert tract, of many miles in
extent, covered with ruins, with here and there a dome, or
cupola, or minaret, to mark what has once been.
I am happy to say that I have succeeded in obtaining a
respite on Sundays. Hitherto, all the works I have had in
hand have gone on the same every day, and consequently one's
annoyance and responsibility continued equally on Sundays.
This is happily put an end to, and I shall have one day's
rest a week at least, to say nothing of higher
considerations. An order on the subject was issued six
months ago, but great difficulties were in the way of its
execution.
CAMP, DEENANUGGUR, _Jan. 15th, 1848_.
Here I am off again like a steam-engine, calling at a series
of stations, puffing and panting, hither and thither, never
resting, ever starting; now in a cutting, now in a tunnel;
first in a field, next on a hill: thus passes day after day,
week after week, a great deal of work going through one's
hands, and yet one can give very little account of one's
self at the end of it. At present I am moving rapidly along
the banks of a small canal which traverses the Doab, between
the Ravee and Beas rivers, for purposes of irrigation;
accompanying Major Napier,[5] to whom the prosecution of all
public improvements throughout the Land of the Five Rivers
belongs. We (the "Woods and Forests" of the day) have nearly
reached the point where the river debouches from the hills,
and have put up for the day in a little garden-house of
Runjeet Singh's, in the midst of a lovely grove of great
extent, through whose dark-green boughs we have a splendid
panorama of the snowy range to back our horizon. We have
great projects of extending the canal by various branches to
feed and fertilize the whole extent of the Doab, which wants
nothing but water to make it a garden, so fertile is the
soil. We have come along a strip of beautiful country,
richly cultivated, lying along the banks of this life-giving
little watercourse, and the weather is perfect, so I am as
happy as mere externals can make one. Certainly we whose lot
has fallen on this side of India, are much to be envied.
Here, all day long, one rides about, clothed as warmly, and
even more so, than in England at this season, enjoying the
bright clear sunshine, and never troubled with thinking of
the sun; whilst at Calcutta they are running into their
houses at nine o'clock to avoid the heat of the day! I
imagine two years in Calcutta would be more _wearing_ than
ten up here; by the same token, I have achieved the
respectable weight of eleven stone ten pounds, being an
increase of seventeen pounds since July. May my shadow never
be less!
I live from the arrival of one mail in expectation of the
next. I had meant to have written a long series of
despatches for this opportunity, and have asked you to do
some commissions for me, but I must postpone it now to
another time, as Major Napier has lots of work for me. I
want a pair of thick blankets; mine were plundered at
Ferozeshah, and I have always mourned over them since, when
cold nights and long marches come together. In these far
countries it is next to impossible to get anything decent.
* * * * *
CAMP, RAJA KE BAGH, _Jan. 29th, 1848_.
For some days I was staying in, and intend returning again
to, a fine picturesque old castle or fort built by the
Emperor Shahjehan. Its lofty walls, with their turrets and
battlements, inclose a quadrangle of the size of the great
court of Trinity, while from the centre rises a dark mass of
buildings three stories high, forming the keep; presenting
externally four blank walls pierced with loopholes, but
within, arches and pillars and galleries, with an open space
in the centre, in which they all face. The summit rises
sixty-four feet, which, in addition to the great elevation
of the mound on which the castle stands, gives a noble view
of mountain, river, and plain, covered with the finest
timber and green with young corn; the whole backed by range
on range, peak after peak, of dazzling snow. Another, nearly
similar, lies about ten miles to the north, and I am now
"pitched" at the foot of a third to the west; all monuments
of the taste and grandeur of the Mogul Emperors. That Goth,
Runjeet Singh, and his followers have as much to answer for
in their way, as Cromwell and his crop-eared scoundrels in
England and Ireland. They seem only to have conquered to
destroy,--every public work, every castle, road, serai, or
avenue, has been destroyed; the finest mosques turned into
powder magazines and stables, the gardens into cantonments,
and the fields into deserts. I had a pretty specimen the
other day of the way in which things have been managed here.
I was desired to examine into, and report on, the accounts
of revenue collected hitherto in 180 villages along the
"Shah Nahr," or Royal Canal. By a convenient mixture of
coaxing and threats, compliment and invective, a return was
at last effected, by which it appeared that in ordinary
cases about one half the revenue reached the treasury, in
some one third, and in one district _nothing_! To my great
amusement, when I came to this point, the gallant collector
(a long-bearded old Sikh) quietly remarked,--"Yes, Sahib,
this was indeed a great place for us entirely." I said,
"Yes, you villain, you gentry grew fat on robbing your
master." "Don't call it robbing," he said; "I assure you I
wouldn't be dishonest for the world. I never took more than
my predecessors did before me." About the most _naive_
definition of honesty I have had the luck to meet with. I
fancy our visit to these nooks and corners of the Punjaub
has added some 50,000_l._ a year to the revenue. My present
_role_ is to survey a part of the country lying along the
left bank of the Ravee and below the hills, and I am daily
and all day at work with compasses and chain, pen and
pencil, following streams, diving into valleys, burrowing
into hills, to complete my work. I need hardly remark, that
having never attempted anything of the kind hitherto, it is
bothering at first. But one is compelled to be patient under
this sort of insult, and I should not be surprised any day
to be told to build a ship, compose a code of laws, or hold
assizes;--in fact, 'tis the way in India; every one has to
teach himself his work, and do it at the same time; if I go
on learning new trades as fast during the remainder of my
career as I have done at its commencement, I shall have to
retire as a Jacksonian professor at least, when "my dog has
had his day." Well! I have fairly beaten the cold this
time,--I turned back one side of the tent, and had a big
fire lighted outside, protected from draughts by a canvas
screen, and the whole tent is now in a jolly glow; a gypsy
light reflected on the trees around, and on the two tall
picturesque Affghans who, seated cross-legged on each side
of the fire, either replenish it with sticks, fan it into a
flame, or watch my pen with the large, black, inquisitive
eye of a dog looking out for a crust.
They make much better servants for wandering folks like
myself than the Hindostanee servant-tribe, have fewer or no
prejudices, (save against clean water,) and trudge along the
livelong day as merrily as if life was a joke to them,
instead of the dull heavy reality it is.[6]
_Feb. 27th, 1848._
I really have very little to tell you of my new Guide Corps
duties from the somewhat strange fact that I have never yet
actually entered upon them; this will soon come to an end,
however, as I have directions to proceed to Peshawur as soon
as the survey I have been at work on is completed. The grand
object of the corps is to train a body of men in peace to be
efficient in war; to be not only acquainted with localities,
roads, rivers, hills, ferries, and passes, but have a good
idea of the produce and supplies available in any part of
the country; to give _accurate_ information, not running
open-mouthed to say that 10,000 horsemen and a thousand guns
are coming, (in true native style,) but to stop to see
whether it may not be really only a common cart and a few
wild horsemen who are kicking up all the dust; to call
twenty-five by its right name, and not say _fifty_ for
short, as most natives do. This of course wants a great deal
of careful instruction and attention. Beyond this, the
officers should give a tolerably correct sketch and report
of any country through which they may pass, be _au fait_ at
routes and means of feeding troops, and above all (and here
you come close upon practical duties) keep an eye on the
doings "of the neighbors" and the state of the country, so
as to be able to give such information as may lead to any
outbreak being nipped in the bud. This is the _theory_,
what the _practice_ may be I'll tell you some day or other
when I know. Hitherto I have been making myself generally
useful under the chief engineer, and learning to survey. One
has to turn one's hand to everything if one wishes to get
on.
Meanwhile, I am busily collecting every species of
information about the people and the land they live in. Hard
work and fatigue, of course, but a splendid opening and
opportunity for making one's self known and _necessary_.
* * * * *
DEENANUGGUR, _March 14th, 1848_.
The night your letter reached me, Napier (our chief
engineer) and I were encamped on a spur of grass land
separating two streams of the river "Chukkir," and had been
so for some days. That evening it began to rain, (if a
sluice of water, apparently _struck down from the heavens_
by a flood of the fiercest lightning, can be called so,) and
for thirty-six hours the torrent descended without
intermission, as only Asiatic storms can descend. At length
a pause ensued, and the sky was visible, and we emerged from
our sodden tents only to be threatened with water in a worse
form. The hills, valleys, and mountains began to send down
to us what they had so plentifully received from above, and
the hitherto quiet stream, whose wide stony channel
surrounded us, was in a single hour a powerful torrent,
tearing over the country as if to prove what it could do. By
one of the singular freaks common to all tropical rivers, it
dammed up one of its own widest outlets by the quantity of
stones which it brought along with it, and came tearing down
the one nearest to us. Across this, not a hundred yards
from our tents, we had just built a powerful breakwater some
sixteen feet wide, but the water quietly walked over, under,
and round it; roared, groaned, stormed, and swelled angrily
for two hours, and our breakwater was a "thing of history;"
meantime, we were gradually getting more and more surrounded
with water, it rose and rose until only four inches were
wanting to set us well afloat. The pegs of my tent-ropes
were undermined, and a notice to quit was as plainly written
on the face of the water as ever on a legal process. There
was but one way of escape, so mustering the whole of a
neighboring village, we loaded all our valuables and
movables on their backs, and made a dash at the hamlet. Once
having succeeded in turning us out, the valiant Chukkir was
content, and we slept in our tents as usual, but not
without, as it turned out, considerable risk of finding
ourselves landed in some unknown field on waking.
When this flood subsided, it appeared that the scene of our
unfortunate dam had become the deepest part of the channel,
and the old course choked with stones and boulders which you
and I couldn't lift in a week of Sundays. Is not this an
incident?
Since I wrote last, in consequence of representations I sent
to head-quarters as to the amount of plundering going on, a
large party of horse, with one of the principal chiefs, was
sent out here, with directions to act on the information I
gave them. We have, accordingly, had a robber-hunt on a
large and tolerably successful scale. Numbers have been
caught. One shot _pour encourager les autres_, and we have
traces of others, so that my quiet practice (originally for
my own amusement and information) has been very useful to
the State. I found out the greatest part of it by sending
clever fellows disguised as "faqueers" (you know what they
are, I think;--religious beggars) to the different villages
to talk to the people and learn their doings. Some of the
stories of Sikh violence, cruelty, and treachery which I
have picked up are almost beyond belief. The indifference of
these people to human life is something appalling. I could
hardly get them to give a thought or attempt an inquiry as
to the identity of a man whom I found dead, evidently by
violence, by the roadside yesterday morning; and they were
horrified at the thought of tying up or confining a sacred
ox, who had gored his _thirteenth_ man the evening before
last! They told me plainly that no one had a right to
complain of being hurt by so venerable a beast.
In such pursuits, combined with surveying, my time passes
away tolerably well. I am alone again, Napier having gone to
Lahore; but this is a sweet place, and I am staying in a
pleasant summer-house of Runjeet Singh's, in the midst of a
fine garden, or grove of mango and orange trees.
* * * * *
CAMP ON RAVEE, _March 29th, 1848_.
Just as I had completed my somewhat lengthy reply to your
question, I was interrupted by a camel-rider, who had come
in hot haste with a letter from Sir F. Currie, at Lahore,
with the most agreeable intelligence in the world,--_voila_.
"MY DEAR MR. HODSON,--Pray knock off your present work, and
come into Lahore as quickly as you can.
"I want to send you with Mr. Agnew to Mooltan. Mr. Agnew
starts immediately with your acquaintance, Sirdah Sumshere
Singh, to assume the government of that province, Moolraj
having sent in his resignation of the Nizamut. Lieutenant
Becher is to be Agnew's permanent assistant, but he cannot
join just now, and I wish you to go with Agnew. It is an
_important mission_, and one that, I think, you will like to
be employed in. When relieved by Becher, you will join the
Guides at Lahore, and be employed also as assistant to the
Resident. The sooner you come the better.
"Yours, sincerely,
"F. CURRIE."
The last line of Sir Frederick's letter was not lost on me,
and to keep up my character for locomotion, I started at
daybreak for Deenanuggur, finishing off my work _en rou
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