"_April 15th._
"You ask for some detail of our life out here, and the history of one day will be a picture of every one, with little variation.
"At the first bugle, soon after daylight, W. gets up and goes to parade, and from thence to superintend the proceedings at the fort.
"By nine o"clock we are both ready for breakfast, after which W. disappears into his business tent, where he receives regimental reports, examines recruits, whether men or horses, superintends stores and equipments, hears complaints, and settles disputes, &c. &c. The regimental business first dispatched, then comes "kutcherry," or civil court matters, receiving pet.i.tions, adjusting claims, with a still longer &c. You may have some small idea of the amount of this work, when I tell you that during the month of March he disposed of twenty-one serious criminal cases, such as murder, and "wounding with intent," and nearly 300 charges of felony, larceny, &c. At two o"clock he comes in for a look at his bairn, and a gla.s.s of wine. Soon after five a cup of tea, and then we order the horses, and in the saddle till nearly eight, when I go with him again to the fort, the garden, and the roads, diverging occasionally to fix the site of a new village, a well, or a watercourse.
"You can understand something of the delight of galloping over the almost boundless plain in the cool, fresh air, (for the mornings and evenings are still lovely,) with the ground now enamelled with sweet-scented flowers, and the magnificent mountains nearest us a.s.suming every possible hue which light and shadow can bestow. On our return to camp, W.
hears more reports till dinner, which is sometimes shared by the other officers, or chance guests.
"When we are alone, as soon as dinner is over, the letters which have arrived in the evening are examined, cla.s.sified, and descanted on, sometimes answered; and I receive my instructions for next day"s work in copying papers, answering letters, &c. And now do you not think that prayers and bed are the fitting and well-earned ending to the labors of the day?
"When you remember, too, that, in building the fort, roads, and bridges, W. has to make his bricks and burn them, to search for his timber and fell it, you will not deny that his hands are full enough; but in addition, he has to search for workmen, and when brought here, to procure them food and means of cooking it. Some are Mussulmans and eat meat, which must be killed and cooked by their own people. Some are Hindoos, who only feed on grain and vegetables, but every single man must have his own chula or fireplace, with an inclosure for him and his utensils, and if by chance any foot but his own overstep his little mud wall, he will neither eat nor work till another sun has arisen. Then some smoke, while others hold it in abhorrence; some only drink water, others must have spirits; so that it is no easy matter to arrange the conflicting wants of some 1,100 laborers. I shall be very thankful when this Murdan Kote is finished, for it will relieve my poor husband of half his labor and anxiety.
"By way of variety, we have native sports on great holidays,--such as throwing the spear at a mark, or "Nazabaze," which is, fixing a stake of twelve or eighteen inches into the ground, which must be taken up on the spear"s point while pa.s.sing it at full gallop, or putting an orange on the top of a bamboo a yard high, and cutting it through with a sword at full speed. W. is very clever at this, rarely failing, but the spears are too long for any but a lithe native to wield without risking a broken arm.
The scene is most picturesque;--the flying hors.e.m.e.n in their flowing many-colored garments, and the grouping of the lookers-on, make me more than ever regret not having a ready pencil-power to put them on paper.
"The weather has been particularly unfavorable to the progress of the fort, so that we are still in our temporary hut and tents. Of course we feel the heat much more, so domiciled. W. 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."
ATTOK, _June 9th, 1854_.
... We are so far on the way to Murree, and here, I grieve to say, we part for the next three months. I hope to rejoin them for a month in September, and accompany them back to our new home, for by that time I trust that my fortified cantonment will be ready, and our house too. This said fort has been a burden and a stumbling-block to me for months, and added grievously to my work, as I am sole architect. It is built regularly, but of earthworks and mud, and as it covers an area of twelve acres, you may believe that it has been no slight task to superintend its construction. It is a sad necessity, and the curse of Indian life, this repeatedly recurring separation, but anything is better than to see the dear ones suffer. I am fortunately very well, and as yet untouched by the unusual virulence with which the hot weather has commenced this year.
_To his Father._
MURREE, _July 17th, 1854_.
I was summoned from Euzofzai to these hills, on the 26th June, by the tidings of the dangerous illness of our sweet baby. I found her in a sinking state, and though she was spared to us for another fortnight of deep anxiety and great wretchedness, there was, from the time I arrived, scarcely a hope of her recovery. Slowly and by imperceptible degrees her little life wasted away until, early on the morning of the 10th, she breathed her soul away, so gently that those watching her intently were conscious of no change. The deep agony of this bereavement I have no words to describe. We had watched her growth, and prided ourselves on her development with such absorbing interest and joy; and she had so won our hearts by her extreme sweetness and most unusual intelligence, that she had become the very centre and light of our home life, and in losing her we seem to have lost everything. Her poor mother is sadly bowed down by this great grief, and has suffered terribly both in health and spirits.
I have got permission to remain with her a few days, but I must return to my duty before the end of the month.
We had the best and kindest of medical advice, and everything, I believe, which skill could do was tried, but in vain. She was lent to us to be our joy and comfort for a time, and was taken from us again, and the blank she has left behind is great indeed.
I dare not take Susie down with me, much as she wishes it, at this season, and in her state of health. I must therefore leave her here till October. It is very sad work to part again under these circ.u.mstances, but in this wretched country there is no help for us. Your kind and affectionate expressions about our little darling, and your keen appreciation of the "unfailing source of comfort and refreshment she was to my wearied spirit," came to me just as I had ceased to hope for the precious babe"s life.
... It has been a very, very bitter blow to us. She had wound her little being round our hearts to an extent which we neither of us knew until we woke from the brief dream of beauty, and found ourselves childless.
CAMP, MURDaN, _Sept. 17th, 1854_.
I am alone now, having none of my officers here save the doctor. But the border is quiet, and except a great deal of crime and villany, I have not any great difficulties to contend with. My new fort to hold the regiment and protect the frontier is nearly finished, and my new house therein will be habitable before my wife comes down from Murree. So after two years and a quarter of camp and hutting, I shall enjoy the luxury of a room and the dignity of a house.
FORT, MURDaN, _Oct. 31st, 1854_.
I can give better accounts of our own state than for many a long day. Dear Susie is much better than for a year past, and gaining strength daily, and I am as well as possible. We are now in our new house in this fort, which has caused me so much labor and anxiety; and I a.s.sure you, a most comfortable dwelling we find it. Our houses (I mean the European officers") project from the general front of the works at the angles of the bastions, and are quite private, and away from the noisy soldiers; and we have, for India, a very pretty view of the hills and plains around us. Above all, the place seems a very healthy one. To your eye, fresh from England, it would appear desolate from its solitude and oppressive from the vastness of the scale of scene. A wide plain, without a break or a tree, thirty miles long, by fifteen to twenty miles wide, forms our immediate foreground on one side, and an endless ma.s.s of mountains on the other.
We have just heard by telegraph of the engagement at Alma, but only a brief electric shock of a message, without details. We are in an age of wonders. Ten months ago, there was not a telegraph in Hindostan, yet the news which reached Bombay on the 27th of this month, was printed at Lah.o.r.e, 1,200 miles from the coast, that same afternoon.
MURDaN, _Nov. 16th, 1854_.
As yet, we have only felt the surging of the storm which convulses Eastern Europe. The only palpable sign of the effects of Russian intrigue which we have had, has been the commencement of negotiation with the Dost Mahomed Khan, of Cabul, who, under the pressure from without, has been fain to seek for alliance and aid from us. Nothing is yet known of his demands, or the intentions of Government, but one thing is certain, that the commencement of negotiations with us, is the beginning of evil days for Affghanistan.
In India, we must either keep altogether aloof or absorb.
All our history shows that sooner or later connection with us is political death. The sunshine is not more fatal to a dew-drop than our friendship or alliance to an Asiatic Kingdom.
FOOTNOTE:
[15] No two troops or companies were of the same race, in order to prevent the possibility of combination. One company was composed of Sikhs, another of Affreedees, others of Pathans, Goorkhas, Punjaubee Mahomedans, &c., with native officers, in each case, of a different race from the men.
CHAPTER VIII.
REVERSES.--UNJUST TREATMENT.--LOSS OF COMMAND.--RETURN TO REGIMENTAL DUTIES.
Up to this time my brother"s career in India had been one of almost uninterrupted prosperity. He had attained a position unprecedented for a man of his standing in the service, and enjoyed a reputation for daring, enterprise, and ability, only equalled by the estimation in which he was held by all who knew him, for high principle and sterling worth. He was, as he described himself, the most fortunate and the happiest man in India. But now the tide of fortune turned.
A storm had for some time been gathering, the indications of which he had either overlooked or despised, till it burst with its full force upon him, and seemed for the moment to carry all before it, blasting his fair fame and sweeping away his fortunes. Many circ.u.mstances had conspired to bring about this result, some of which will only be fully appreciated by those who are acquainted with the internal politics of the Punjaub at that period. His appointment to the command of the Guides, over the heads of many of his seniors, had from the first excited much jealousy and ill-will among the numerous aspirants to so distinguished a post. In India, more than in any other country, a man cannot be prosperous or fortunate without making many enemies; and every ascent above the level of your contemporaries secures so many additional "good haters;" nor is there any country where enmity is more unscrupulous in the means to which it has recourse. This mattered comparatively little to my brother, so long as Sir Henry Lawrence, to whose firm and discriminating friendship he owed his appointment, remained in power. He, however, had been removed from the Administration of the Punjaub, and those who had effected his removal, and now reigned supreme, were not likely to look with very favorable eyes upon one who, like my brother, was known as his _protege_ and confidant, and had not perhaps been as guarded, as in prudence he ought to have been, in the expressions of his opinion on various transactions. More recently still, Colonel Mackeson, the Resident at Peshawur, his immediate superior, for whom he entertained the highest regard and affection, which was, I believe, reciprocated, had fallen a victim to the dagger of the a.s.sa.s.sin. This had, if possible, a still more injurious influence on my brother"s position, as the new Resident was, both on public and private grounds, opposed to him, and made no secret of his wish to get rid of him from the charge of the frontier.
With a prospect of such support, my brother"s enemies were not likely to be idle. He had been warned more than once of their undermining operations; but strong in conscious integrity, and unwilling to suspect others of conduct which he would have scorned himself, he "held straight on" upon his usual course, till he found himself overwhelmed by a ma.s.s of charges affecting his conduct, both in his military and civil capacity.
All that malice could invent or ingenuity distort, was brought forward to give importance to the accusations laid against him. Every trifling irregularity or error of judgment was so magnified, that a mighty fabric was raised on a single grain of truth; and the result was, that towards the close of the year he was summoned before a court of inquiry at Peshawur.
That which seemed princ.i.p.ally to give color to the charges against him was, that there was undeniably confusion and irregularity in the regimental accounts; but this confusion, far from having originated with him, had been very materially rectified. He had succeeded to the command in October, 1852, and within twenty-four hours started on a campaign which lasted between seven and eight weeks, without any audit of accounts between himself and his predecessor, who had, immediately on making over the command, left for England; so that he found a ma.s.s of unexplained confusion, which he had been endeavoring, during his period of command, gradually to reduce to some order. This he had to a certain extent accomplished when summoned unexpectedly to undergo an investigation and meet the gravest accusations.
I will, however, in preference to any statements of my own, which might not unnaturally be suspected of partiality, insert here, though it was written at a later period, a letter, giving an account of the whole affair, from one whose opinion must carry the greatest weight with all who know him, either personally or by reputation, Sir R.
Napier. It has somewhat of an official character, as it was addressed to the colonel of the 1st Bengal European Fusileers, when my brother subsequently rejoined that regiment.
And I may here observe, with regard to anything which I may now or hereafter say reflecting on the conduct and motives of those concerned in this attempt to ruin my brother"s prospects, that I should not have ventured to make these remarks simply on his authority, unless I had had them confirmed, and more than confirmed, by men of the highest character, both civil and military, who were cognizant of all the transactions, and did not scruple to express their indignation at what they characterized as a most cruel and unjust persecution.
_From_ COLONEL (_now_ SIR R.) NAPIER, _Chief Engineer, Punjaub, to_ COLONEL WELCHMAN, _1st Bengal Fusileers_.
"UMBaLA, _March, 1856_.