CHAPTER V.

Old companionship at Meerut--Arbuthnot and the 16th--Grand turn out--A bet won--40th leave for home--9th Lancers for Umballa--Natives with tattoo bring in fruit, vegetables--Description of the Mango--Sedanna--The Begum or Queen, a pensioner of the Company--Something of her life--Persuades the Rajah to fly--Feigning assassination caused him to stab himself--Proclaimed Queen by her Army--Marries a French adventurer--Visit to our Camp--Her palace--Rumours of an invasion of our territory by the Shieks near Ferozepoor--Lord Gough at Umballa--News from the Punjaub--The Rannie or Queen had dethroned Dulep Sing--Ordered to Punjaub--Sketch of the Sing dynasty--Three French officers revolutionize the Army and bring it under the French model--They possess the whole of the Punjaub Peshwa--An eye on Bengal--Advised to become allies--Treaty with Lord Auckland--The Queen makes away with the three eldest sons--Her paramour, Lal Sing--Confines the youngest in the harem--Lord Gough at Mudkee--Sir R. Sale killed--Ferusha--50th and 62nd Foot--Ignorance at Meerut of all their movements--March on the Sutledge--Sad evidences _en route_ of late havoc.

[Sidenote: General Arbuthnot and the 16th.]

Old companionship of regiment is never forgotten in the service. We had beside us now in cantonment the Fortieth Foot, a corps that had served in times gone by with the 16th in the Peninsular wars and at Waterloo. They had now been four years in Afghanistan, were present at Kilat, Gilzie and Candahar. Having plenty of money on hand, after our late campaign, we often fraternized with them, and indeed were boon companions as far as we could in the pleasures and enjoyments of camp life at Meerut. Dinners and parties, at which I am sorry to add much intoxication prevailed, was an every-day occurrence. So much was revelling carried on that on General Arbuthnot coming to the station to assume command, and when at dinner with the Colonel, the state of the regiment was the subject of discussion. This was the question, "What would you do, Colonel, if your regiment was required to-morrow morning for immediate service; they are all drunk and wandering about anywhere." This matter was soon settled by a heavy wager--I suppose merely in name--by the Colonel, who stated the regiment would be out at daylight in the morning--it was then ten o'clock--and if any man was absent, or should fall off his horse, the bet was forfeited. The Adjutant, Lieutenant Dynon, gave orders at once to sound "boot and saddle," the regiment to turn out half-an-hour before daylight. The trumpeters did their duty, galloped all over the lines sounding the alarm; the men tumbled in from all directions.

The hour named for the parade arrived--the regiment, complete, not a man absent, stood out on the plain awaiting the General and his staff. They, accompanied by a number of ladies, put in an appearance. The roll was called in front of them, and with the exception of ninety-seven men, invalids in hospital, every man of the corps was present. To test the regiment more thoroughly, twenty-four difficult movements were gone through at a gallop, then we advanced in review order, every horse covered with foam. The General, of course, could do nothing after losing his wager, and witnessing our splendid movements, but compliment us most highly. As we marched back to cantonments we were wildly cheered by native and European regiments, and as a reward we received from the Colonel a few more days' leave for enjoyment. Dinner parties and suppers commenced again, and continued well up to the time the Fortieth were ordered to Calcutta, to embark for England.

[Sidenote: 9th Lancers for Umballa.]

In July the rainy season commences. It falls in torrents three weeks at a time, forming deep nullas or ravines, which make it difficult, indeed dangerous, to get about, and this lasts till after the middle of August.

In November, the Ninth Lancers came up from Cawnpore, and as we had not met them, or at least the two regiments had not been together since eighteen hundred and eighteen, what could be expected than that another fraternization as had taken place with the Fortieth would be repeated. This I need hardly say occurred, and continued till the 9th marched for Umballa.

We now enter the months when fruit and vegetables get ripe, and many a visit we had from the natives to our camp, driving or rather leading their tattoos on poneys laden with luxurious fruit. The mango is here very plentiful, and it may be interesting to describe it, the most delicious fruit in the world. The tree is about the size of a large oak; the fruit, when ripe, is of a greenish yellow, with reddish cheeks, the skin, when removed, presents a sort of jelly; a small stone, the size of a peach stone, in the middle. We eat them out of a large pan, in which is first placed some cold water. We had also plentiful supplies of guava, custard fruit, plantain, bananna, and water-melon of the size of an English beer-barrel for three pice, or a penny.

[Sidenote: Queen marries a French adventurer.]

Some five miles from Meerut cantonments is a town called Sedanna, where the Begum or Queen resided, who was once the monarch of this district, subject only to the once powerful Mogul of Delhi, but at this time a pensioner of the East India Company. There is a curious story told of this extraordinary woman, and I will here give it. She was the favourite of a Rajah who reigned some years back. She was instrumental in raising a revolt, and then urged him to fly, which he did. She, of course, accompanied him, but carried in a palanquin. While in this conveyance she pretended to stab herself, and screamed wildly. When the Rajah heard it, thinking she had been assassinated--not a very uncommon thing in India--he plunged a poniard into his heart, and died on the spot. No sooner was the Rajah dead than she jumped on a horse, galloped back, surrounded by her guards, collected the army, harangued them, saying she would now lead them to victory. They cheered. She did lead them against a powerful enemy, and by her perseverance--a second Joan of Arc--conquered. She was established in the favour of her army, who confirmed her Queen. Subsequently she married a French adventurer, Sombra Dyce, and made him general. He, being a Roman Catholic, converted her, at least nominally, built a chapel, which I have been in, and in which she had a tomb erected to the memory of the old Rajah, her first husband. There is also another to that of Sombra Dyce, her second. She had two sons by her second marriage, who were always at law with the old East India Company, claiming some possessions of their mother; but I could never learn the result, as the appeals were frequent to the Home Government.

She was now getting old, but frequently came to our cantonment, as she was friendly with our Colonel, and loved to see the 16th Lancers. She has even been to our theatre, and whenever, in passing, she saw any children, always threw them handfuls of silver coin. A number of her people had embraced Christianity, who were ministered to by a regular priest. Whenever we strolled out to her palace we were received very kindly, were allowed the use of her billiard tables, as all the furniture was of European make, and many a good picnic we enjoyed in the mango grove of the palace.

On Sunday, the thirteenth November, 1845, as we were marching from church, news soon spread that war had again broken out, and the Meerut division were to make forced marches to join Lord Gough, who had pushed on from Umballa, as the Sikhs had crossed into our territory in large force near Ferozepoor. The Cawnpore and Delhi divisions were also to move up in haste. This was astounding news to men so long in India as most of the 16th had been, but nevertheless all felt glad--in fact rejoiced--at the prospects of another good campaign, so eager were our men for it that the sick in hospital, such as were convalescent, would persuade the surgeon they were well enough, and begged to be let go with the regiment.

[Sidenote: Sketch of the Sing dynasty.]

Before starting, we had learned a civil war had broken out in the Punjaub. The Rannie had dethroned Dulep Sing, the rightful heir, the army was divided--one half for her, and the other against--and this state of things had been going on for several months; we then, the army of Her Majesty, as is always the case, had to set matters right. Before entering upon any further particulars, a short history of the Sing family will not be out of place.

Runjeit Sing was the founder of the dynasty; he was a powerful chief, having conquered all the smaller chiefs around him, established himself as Maha Rajah at Lahore. In time, two French officers came along from Persia, soldiers of fortune, as such men are to be found everywhere, ready for anything as long as they get good pay. These men had served under the first Napoleon. One of them offered to raise a regiment to imitate the old French Imperial Guards, and the other made similar offers to raise one of cavalry. The offer was accepted. Both regiments were risen to the satisfaction of the Rajah; he made the first a General, the second a Colonel. To one, the General, he gave one of his daughters to wife. Subsequently, another Frenchman came into the county, named La Court, and his services were accepted, so that between the three old French soldiers the Rajah raised a powerful and well-equipped force; and having defeated a powerful neighbouring chief at Rungier, or the seven-hilled city, he became master of the whole Punjaub, or country of five rivers. After these successes he attacked the Afghans, drove them out of Pesheva, and took possession of the entrance of the Kyber, where he built the fort alluded to previously in this work, called Junrood. Runjeit Sing signifies, in their language, Fierce Lion. When he succeeded thus far in his conquests it became apparent he had an eye on Bengal, and thought he could drive the British back to the sea. His French generals, however, told him different, advising him not to interfere with them, or he might lose all. Craftiness, and perhaps fear, caused him to become an ally, as he made a treaty with Lord Auckland, signing it on the banks of the Sutledge river, bringing very valuable presents to be sent to our Queen. Four sons survived him, named Currick Sing, Nunihall Sing, Sheer Sing, and Dulep Sing. The first three were easily made away with by assassination, by the favourite Queen, who had the youngest, Dulep, placed in the harem, where old Runjeit had five hundred wives and concubines. Having accomplished all this, she united the contending parties under her paramour, Lal Sing, meditating an attack upon the East India Company territories. They assembled at the fort of Umritsa seventy thousand strong, crossed the Sutledge before our Government were aware of their doings.

[Sidenote: Lord Gough at Mudkee.]

[Sidenote: Sad evidences of late havoc.]

Their first action was with Lord Gough, at Mudkee, 19th December, 1845, where he was encamped. The men, when surprised, were preparing their morning meal; they soon, however, got in fighting trim, some in their shirt-sleeves. The 3rd Light Dragoons, assisted by the fiftieth foot and others, gained a complete victory over them. It was here General Sir R. Sale got killed. Lord Gough pushed on that night, 21st December, and came on the main body encamped at Ferusha, fought them all that day, 22nd, and but for a ruse would have been surely defeated. Ammunition falling short, a troop of Horse Artillery galloped off to Ferospoor for a supply. The enemy's cavalry, seeing them through a cloud of sand, imagined their retreat was being cut off, panic-stricken, they bolted, when the 3rd Light Dragoons and 4th Native Cavalry charged under a heavy fusilade from the infantry--50th and 62nd--completely routed them from their position. In this charge, Colonel Somerset, aide to Lord Gough, was killed. The Meerut division knew nothing of all this until we arrived at Muddkee on the 1st January, when the sights we met confirmed our suspicion. At first we came across dead camels, then, on approaching the village, several of our native regiment soldiers came out to greet us. A sad sight indeed--some bandaged almost from head to foot; arms and legs off. All left behind in the hurry to keep up with the enemy. On laying out our picket guard with the Quarter-Master General, as I was in the advanced guard, we came upon a heap of sand, out of which part of a man's hand projected; also, a little further on, part of a hand and wrist, with so much of the cuff of a coat as showed a 50th button. We, of course, performed the duty of burying all such, as the pursuing army had no time. Making a reconnaisance with my captain, we entered a kind of park-like enclosure, and here we found traces of the fearful work of Gough's engagement. Men, horses, and camels lay in heaps unburied, vultures in hundreds feasting on them; none had been touched, all lay as they fell. The Sikhs lay in heaps under their guns, the Light Dragoons as they fell from their horses, the tents of the blind half-hundred still standing, knapsacks around in all directions. The guns we secured, and fatigue parties performed the sickening duty of burying the dead.