CHAPTER III.
Native sobriety and European drunkenness--Hindoo Mahoram feast Ceremony--Native habits--Shooting Sandgeese, Ducks, Parrots, Monkeys--Report of death of Shah-Soojah--Akbar Khan assumes the government--General Elphinstone retires--Mr. McNaughton killed--Massacre in Guddulock Pass by Akbar Khan--44th foot cut to pieces--A few escape to Jellelabad--Colonel Denny--Major Havelock--Colonel Sale attacks Akbar--Denny killed--Havelock in command--General Pollock pushes on from Bengal--Doctor Brydon--His miraculous escape through the Pass--General Nott ordered to Ghuznee--Pollock reinforces Sale--Lord Auckland succeeded by Lord Ellenborough--The Gates of the Temple of Somnuth--The Maharajah of Lahore pays his respects to Lord Ellenborough--Durbar at Delhi--Review before the King and Indian Princes--Meerut again--My comrade Jaco--The Spaniel and Jaco.
I have often been ashamed in India, when called a Christian, to see an officer or a man under the influence of liquor. Both Mahomedans and Hindoos are very abstemious--never touching anything that intoxicates. I had now more proof of this than at any other time, there being so many attendants allowed soldiers, indeed as many followers as men, I could well judge their aversion to drink. Of all the native cooks, belt-wallas, scyses for horses, and grass-cutters, I never knew one to drink ask them, they grimace and turn away.
During the time we were recruiting our strength the Hindoos had a festival called the Mahoram. They assemble by thousands from all parts, with richly dressed elephants and camels, and gorgeously dressed Princes and Nabobs. The common folk go through a sort of sham-fight with bladders. A large image made of wicker work and filled with combustibles is elevated some seventy feet high. Two beautiful children are drawn in a car richly dressed by two sacred bulls. These children fire two arrows each at the image, and are then taken to the Temple, and, as I was informed, sacrificed in the evening amid a great display of fire-works.
[Sidenote: Shooting sand-geese, ducks, etc.]
All the natives sleep during the great heat of the day, and are up all night around the fires made of horse and cow manure, which keep off mosquitoes. They make a horrid din, beating a drum called tum, tum, and singing, so that with the noise all through the bazaars, the drumming and the mosquito chorus, a foreigner has little rest. Our men enjoyed plenty of shooting, sand-geese, ducks, parrots, and peacocks; although dangerous to shoot the latter, the Hindoos holding them as sacred. We had almost everything to beguile our time; drill and field-days at early morning, besides a good library, ball-alley, racket, quoits, cricket, and a theatre, named the Victoria.
Returning to quarters one evening, after a shooting excursion, and the day having been intensely hot, many were enjoying a cool nap on the cot outside the door of the camp. Apart from all the rest, by himself, was an old crusty sergeant, nicknamed "Old Nick,"--a bath, there being plenty about for the use of the men, stood near him, and after a moment's consultation, as he snored away, we decided to play him a trick. Our party being all of the same rank, (four sergeants) even if we were discovered, it would not be deemed so bad as if it were done by inferiors, but this we thought nothing of. Lifting him very carefully, and so gently as not to disturb his heavy snoring, we conveyed our friend "Old Nick" to the bath, laid him evenly and gently as possible, looking round seeing each our way clear for a good run--let go, and soused he fell into the water. Splutter, splutter, occasionally as we ran, a fierce yell and a curse. We were in bed in five minutes, in fact before he had time to properly shake himself, and although enquiry and enquiry was made, and a reward for the miscreants offered by himself, no one ever learned who did it for years after.
We were not to remain long at peace, war broke out again on the death of Shah-Soojah. Akbar Khan had seized the reins of government of Afghanistan, shot Mr. McNaughton, the agent, had prevailed on General Elphinstone to retire, who was weak enough to do so, instead of holding his position until aid arrived; and as soon as Akbar got him into the Guddulock Pass, commenced an indiscriminate massacre. The 44th Regiment was almost cut to pieces; some were taken prisoners with the officers' wives, including Lady Sale; some few escaped to Jellelabad, at the entrance of the Kyber Pass, where General Sale, Colonel Denny, and Major Havelock were with the 13th Light Infantry. When the winter was far enough advanced to march, Akbar wanted to attack Sale, but he, not wishing to be caught, marched out and met him in battle, and fully routed him and his army. Poor Colonel Denny being killed, Havelock then assumed the command.
[Sidenote: Doctor Brydon--his miraculous escape.]
In the early spring General Pollock was pushed on with a force from Bengal.
Before I proceed farther I will here give the following incident which occurred at the time of the massacre in the Guddulock Pass, in 1842:--
When the slaughter was nearly complete, a Doctor Brydon endeavoured to escape; among the survivors was a native assistant, who, seeing Brydon sorely pressed, called to him, saying, "Doctor Saib, I cannot possibly escape, I am dying of cold and hunger, take my pony and do the best you can for yourself." Brydon tried to encourage him, but no, he was dying. Brydon mounted, and through the confusion, forced his way to the front. Reaching all safe, he found a group of mounted officers, who knowing they were just at the end of the Pass where it opens on the plain where Jellelabad stands, determined to make a bold push for life. Seeing Brydon on a wretched pony, they declared they could not wait for him, mounted as he was, and any delay would be sure to cause their immediate destruction. On they went, leaving Brydon slowly toiling after them. The Afghans saw the group advancing at full swing, met them and slew them every man, and thinking no one else was coming, went back to the hills; just then Brydon jogged past unobserved. News of Elphinstone's force was anxiously waited for at Jellelabad. Towards evening one man slowly riding a worn-out pony was descried at the entrance of the Pass,--cavalry were immediately sent to bring him in--it was Brydon. As he entered the gate he fell senseless from fatigue. When restoratives were applied, at least such as were at hand, he revived, and the first question he asked was about his pony, the pony that had saved his life--it was dead. Brydon was with General Sale during the gallant defence of Jellelabad, and lived to take part in the defence of Lucknow.
[Sidenote: Gates of the temple of Somnuth.]
Pollack pushed through the Kyber Pass to the relief of Sale. Another force under General Nott marched from Bombay towards Ghuznee, to the relief of our troops hemmed in there--the two divisions were to meet at Cabul as an avenging army. Both pushed on as rapidly as possible, and after long and arduous marches, reached Cabul, rescued the prisoners, and burnt the capital to the ground. General Elphinstone having died, completely broken down through this sad disaster, Lord Auckland was called home, and Lord Ellenborough replaced him as Governor-General of India.
In January, 1843, an army of observation was formed on the banks of the Sutledge, to meet Generals Nott and Pollock on their return through the Kyber Pass, bringing with them the gates of the temple of Somnuth, from in front the Mahomedan mosque, at Ghuznee,--carried off eight hundred years before, on the conquest of India and subjugation of the Hindoos--and now restored after that lapse of time by British valour, and thereby conciliating the original possessors of Hindostan.
These gates were made of sandal-wood, each one drawn on a waggon by twelve bullocks; they were also covered with crimson curtains fringed with gold.
The Maharajah of Lahore came down with six thousand cavalry as an escort to pay his respects to Lord Ellenborough. We marched towards Delhi on the first of February, through the protected Sikh states. Arriving at Delhi we encamped on the race course. Lord Ellenborough had summoned all the Rajahs and petty princes to meet him and the king at a Durbar; along with the King of Delhi was the Rajah of Burtpoor, the Rajah of Jypoor, the Rajah of Puttealea. All the Indian nobility gave a grand dinner to the Governor-General, Lord Gough, and all the British officers. A large place was built of wicker-work, covered with flags, banners, streamers, and variegated lamps; and tables were laid for five hundred guests; the service was of silver and gold. The Governor-General and staff went down in three carriages, escorted by two troops 16th Lancers--my troop happened to be one of them--when the cavalcade arrived, a royal salute was fired, and salvo after salvo almost shook the air; the crowd was so dense we could almost ride over turbaned heads. After dinner there was a grand presentation to Lord Ellenborough,--a gold salver full of jewels, two elephants, richly caparisoned, and four Arab horses--then came such a display of fireworks as never has been equalled since. It was twelve p.m. before we started for camp.
[Sidenote: Meerut again.]
The day following all this display a grand field-day was held, in order to show these native princes the power of Britain, and what good soldiers she boasted of. In all the movements, the troops sustained their traditional name; the 16th made a dashing charge, covering the infantry, who had fallen into square; we astonished the king and the several princes by the quickness of our movements, they calling us the Lall Goral Wallas, or Bullam Wallas. We broke up in a few days afterwards, each regiment marching to their respective stations, the 16th back to Meerut, where we arrived on the 4th of March.
[Sidenote: My comrade Jaco.]
I might have introduced to the reader before this an inseparable companion I had while in cantonments, and one who not only shared my bed and board, but one who, during many hours of serious thought and fretfulness about all at home, mother and sisters, made me laugh and forget what I had been thinking about a few moments before; this creature was Jaco, my monkey; where he was born, or where he originally sprung from, or his race, I cannot tell. I am no Darwinian, but positively, the amount of tact and knowledge displayed by Jaco, often since has led me to consider our possible relationship well. I purchased Jaco for a small sum from a native, intending, if he remained with me, to train him well and keep him as a companion; I took him to my quarters, and as a first lesson to teach him subjection and obedience, tied him to the handle of my trunk; here, I kept him sufficiently long, that, by kind treatment, I thought I had weaned him from any bad tricks he had learned; he, of course, got quite used to a sword, a carbine, and of my dress; I made him a nice-fitting scarlet jacket, blue pants, and a cap with gold lace, and, dear me, how I laughed to see my tiny mock soldier strutting about; this pleased him well. My comrade had a spaniel dog. Jaco and the spaniel got quite friendly. This creature was also very biddable, and on both, my comrade and I commenced a series of drill, providing Jaco with a wooden sword. In a short time they got so advanced, that on the word "mount," Jaco would stride the spaniel, and away out with either of us to parade for guard mounting; this they continued to do, till mounting guard became an every-day's duty, creating a great amount of laughter, and they were never absent. If I happened to be tired, and lying down getting a little rest, Jaco would jump on the table, make faces at himself in the glass, then, to annoy me, or get me up, as he knew he was disturbing me, get pen and ink, as he had seen me do, and destroy any paper that lay about with his scrawling; if I took no notice, and he found it was no use teasing me that way, he usually licked the pen, spitting out several times, made ugly faces, all the time looking at me, I pretending to sleep. I don't know that he had one bad habit, but thieving, and this he was expert at; if I had received a paper, or was sending one home, and left it on the table, nothing pleased poor Jaco better than to make away with it. His usual plan was to leap on my table, watch me well for a time, to make sure I was asleep, he gently came on the bed, above my head, put his finger softly to my eyes and try to open them; this was done, I suppose, to see if I would stir, then with a bound away on the table, seize the package, and away to the woods, where he generally remained till night, when he quietly came back, getting into bed at my feet.
Jaco was a great pet all over the cantonment. I intended, if I had been fortunate enough in keeping him, to bring him home: he, however, often got me into blame for his thieving tricks, and one day returned to my tent with a broken arm; how he got it I could never make out; I applied splints, and he seemed to recover the use of it, but I fancied the pain drove him mad, for he went to the woods one day, and never came back.