Chapter 1
[Transcriber's Note: At the conclusion of this diary, the author writes: "If these notes should ever be written out by my relations after my death--for I am now like to die, let me beg that the many mistakes in spelling, consequent upon the hurry and roughness of the writing, may by corrected and not set down to ignorance." The relations may indeed have corrected many errors, but many remain, and they have been left as in the original.]
THREE MONTHS OF MY LIFE.
A DIARY
OF THE LATE J.F. FOSTER, ASSISTANT-SURGEON, HER MAJESTY'S 36TH FOOT.
_Edited by LIZZIE A. FREETH._
GUERNSEY: LE LIEVRE, PRINTER, STAR-OFFICE, 10, BORDAGE STREET. LONDON: SIMPKIN & MARSHALL 1873.
I DEDICATE,
_Firstly,_
MY GRATITUDE TO GOD-- FOR HIS MERCY IN PRESERVING ME THUS FAR, AND BRINGING ME SAFELY HOME AFTER SEVERAL YEARS SERVICE IN INDIA, TO MEET AGAIN ALL (SAVE ONE) THOSE MOST DEAR TO ME.
_And Secondly,_
MY BOOK TO MY PARENTS, WITH THE CERTAIN AND HAPPY KNOWLEDGE THAT THEY WILL READ WITHOUT CRITICISM AND ONLY WITH AFFECTIONATE INTEREST, THE ACCOUNT OF MY THOUGHTS AND EXPERIENCES WHILE WANDERING IN A REMOTE AND LOVELY CORNER OF THE EARTH.
EDITOR'S PREFACE.
In laying the following pages before the public, I do so with a feeling that they will be read with interest, not only by those who knew the writer, but those to whom the scenes described therein are known, and also those who appreciate a true description of a country which they may never have the good fortune to see. We are all familiar with Kashmir in the "fanciful imagery of Lalla Rookh," at the same time may not object to reading an account--with a ring of truth in it--of that lovely land, lovely and grand, beyond the power of poets to describe as it really is, so travellers say. Readers will see that Mr. Foster intended to have published this Diary himself had he been spared to reach England, he has offered any apology that is necessary, so I will say nothing further than to state, the daily entries were kept in a pocket-book written in pencil, occasionally a word is not quite legible, that will account for any little inaccuracy. After being two years at Elizabeth College, Guernsey, under the Rev. A. Corfe, Mr. Foster entered St. George's Hospital, as Student of Medicine, he received there in his last year the "Ten Guinea Prize" for General Proficiency. From St. George's he went to Netley, and on leaving that he served for a short time in Jersey, with the 2nd Battallion 1st Royals, and 1st Battallion 6th Royals, after which he embarked for India, where from February, 1868, to the beginning of 1869, he served with the following Regiments, &c., 91st Highlanders, at Dum Dum; F Battery C. Brigade Royal Horse Artillery, at Benares; 27th Inniskillings, at Hazareebagh, Bengal Depôt, Chinsurah; Detachment 58th Regiment, at Sahibgunge; Head-Quarters 58th Regiment, at Sinchal, again at the Bengal Depôt Chinsurah; Head-Quarters 107th Regiment, at Allahabad; Detachment 107th Regiment, at Fort Allahabad; G Battery 11th Brigade Royal Artillery, at Cawnpore; Left Wing 36th Regiment, Moradabad; Head-Quarters 36th Regiment, Peshawur, from whence ultimately we find he started for Kashmir in the hope of regaining his health, a vain hope as events proved, as he died on the passage home at Malta. During the course of publication I have received many letters from people who were personally acquainted with Mr. Foster who had met him at home and abroad, from the tone of which letters I gather he was held in the highest possible estimation as a friend, a medical man, and an officer. I am indebted to the kindness of his father, Dr. John L. Foster, of this island, for being allowed to publish these interesting memorials of one who had now passed "To where beyond these voices there is peace."
LIZZIE A. FREETH. Montpellier, Guernsey, Nov. 1873.
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
This Work requires few prefatory remarks. I have transcribed without alteration, the Diary that I kept during my visit to Kashmir. It may seem a strange jumble of description and sentiment, jocularity and seriousness. During the greater part of each day I enjoyed perfect rest, smoking and thinking--sometimes soberly, often I fear idly--and for mere occupation sake, my thoughts were written as they arose. My mind as influenced by scene or incident, is fully exposed in these pages, and while I have concealed nothing, neither have I added to that which I originally indited. I am necessarily, and indeed intentionally egotistical, because I write for those who will chiefly value a personal narrative. Still, I am not ashamed if others see my book, although I would deprecate their criticism by begging them to remember that I only offer it for the perusal of those near and dear to me.
INTRODUCTION.
In the early morning of Midsummer's-day, 1868, I might have been seen slowly wending my way towards the office of the Deputy Inspector General of Hospitals, at Peshawur--for the purpose of appearing before the standing Medical Committee of the station, and having an enquiry made concerning the state of my health. A Dooley followed me lest my strength should prove inadequate to the task of walking a quarter of a mile. But let me make my description as short as the Committee did their enquiry. My face, as white as the clothes I wore, told more than my words could, and I was hardly required to recount how that one burning May-day I was called at noon to visit a sick woman, and that while all other Europeans were in their closed and darkened bungalows with punkahs swinging, and thermautidotes blowing cool breezes, I went forth alone on my medical mission to encounter the fierce gaze of the baneful sun, and was overpowered by its fiery influence, or how that I laid a weary month on the sick bed, tormented by day with a never ceasing headache, and by night with a terrible dread, worse than any pain, or to conclude, how the deadly climate of that notoriously evil station afforded me no prospect of improvement. This relation was scarcely needed to procure me a certificate, stating that three months leave of absence to Murree was absolutely essential for my recovery, and a recommendation that I might be allowed to proceed immediately in anticipation of the leave being granted. So the next evening saw me start from Peshawur for Rawul Pindee, in a Dâk Gharie, accompanied by my dog "Silly" and my Madrapee servant or "Boy." Onwards we sped at a gallop, the horses being changed every six miles, through Nowshera, the furnace; over the rapid and icy cold Indus by boat; past Fort Attock, the oven in which our soldiers are done to death; and Hussan Aboul of Lallah Rooke celebrity; arriving at the French Hotel at Pinder, ten miles from Peshawur the following morning. That day I called upon the Officers of the 6th Foot, with whom I had served in Jersey, and was persuaded to dine at mess. A melancholy dinner it was for me, meeting old friends whom I had not seen for so long. Yet not possessing energy enough for conversation or feeling the spirit of "Hail fellows, well met." I felt that my moody silence and ghostlike appearance (for I was dressed in black) threw a gloom over them. This was no doubt a morbid fancy as also was perhaps the idea that they looked at me with pitying eyes. But these feelings seized me, and increased till they became unbearable, and I was glad to escape to my Hotel.
"THREE MONTHS OF MY LIFE."
A DIARY.
JULY 4th, 1868.--Started from Murree for Kashmir at 5.30 a.m. Bell, Surgeon 36th Regt. [Since deceased] came with me four miles. Walked on expecting the dandy to overtake me, but it did not, and I marched all the way, nine miles up a steep hill to Khaira Gullee, where I halted and put up in one of the old sheds formerly used by the working party when the road was being made. I am not tired, though my left heel is blistered, which is fair considering I have not walked half a mile for more than a month. The road is excellent and the scenery fine, the Khuds being sometimes deep, but nothing like the eastern Himalayas. The forest too is quite different, fir trees predominating here. Saw many beautiful birds, and regretted I had not brought my gun. In the evening a thunderstorm came on with a cold wind from the north, so I made a good fire with a few fir logs. In the middle of the night the storm became very violent, and large hailstones fell.
JULY 5th.--Got away at sunrise, the rain having quite cleared off, and marched on to Doonga Gullee, up a hill to an elevation of 9,000 feet, and then down again to about 7,000; then up a final steep to Doonga Gullee, 8,000 feet above the sea. The Khuds much grander very deep and precipitous, sometimes falling one or two thousand feet from the edge of the road almost perpendicularly. But the hills are too close together to allow the valleys to be termed magnificent. Reached Doonga Gullee at 10 a.m. The length of last march, eleven miles--the road, a good military one, has been cut in the face of the mountain. Put up at the Dâk Bungalow, and dined with the officers of the working party; among them Heath, of the 88th, and Leggatt and Lyons, of the 77th, whom I knew. A number of tents are pitched here for the working parties from the 19th and 77th Regiments (road making). I was carried part of the march in my dandy--a piece of carpet gathered at each end and hooked to a pole,--the pole being carried on the shoulders of two men. I swung below it just off the ground, and could often look down a vast depth between my knees. My first pickled tongue, cooked the day before yesterday was fly-blown at breakfast this morning. This may seem a trifling note, but it is ominous I fear for the whole of my salted stores.
JULY 6th.--Got up at 4 o'clock and marched on to Bugnoota, a distance of thirteen miles. The first four miles a slight rise, and then a rapid descent all the rest of the way. The road is much narrower, only a mule track in fact, I walked twelve miles, and then felt tired, and had a headache afterwards. Pitched my tent in a tope, (a grove of trees) in company with Dr. and Mrs. Holmes, of Rohat, whom I did not know. Slight rain in the middle of the day, but it cleared off towards evening. Felt all right after an hour's sleep and took a stroll before dinner. Scenery grand, tent pitched on the edge of a deep gorge at the bottom of which is a mountain stream, the hills rising abruptly on the opposite side.
JULY 7th.--Marched on to Abbottabad at sunrise, down hill to the river, and then along its course for two miles over very rough and fatiguing ground, the river having to be forded twice. In rainy weather this is very dangerous as its rush is so impetuous. Up hill again then down into the plain of Abbottabad, 4,000 feet above the sea. Distance twelve miles though only put down eight in the route. Met the General at the bottom of the hill. Put up at the Dâk Bungalow, and met Ford, 88th, and De Marylski, R.A., returning from Kashmir, got some hints from them. Abbottabad is a small cantonment on a large plain surrounded by bare mountains, a notice is posted in my room warning travellers not to go unarmed; so I'll gird on my Kookery to-morrow. A Kookery is a formidable native knife, about eighteen inches long and over two inches wide, carried in a peculiar way, sheep and goats heads come off very easily at a single blow from it. Much hotter down here, the sun powerful after 10 o'clock, but Punkahs not necessary. This is the Head-Quarters of the Punjab Frontier force. A pity they do not have an English Regiment stationed here as it is a very pleasant place as regards climate. Snow in winter, and this the warmest time of the year quite bearable. Brigadier gone to the _hills_ for the _hot weather._ Took in supplies of bread and butter and purchased a pair of chuplus or sandals for marching in, as boots hurt my feet.
JULY 8th.--A long tedious march of nearly fifteen miles to Mansera, put down in the guide as a level plain road, but having a good many ups and downs. One of my sandals broke, and I was obliged to ride in the dandy about half way. Some difficulty occurred in getting my baggage off as the Coolies did not come. Left my boy to manage it, he came in about noon with two ponies, I shall not pay for them yet, and then they will come on with me. A warmer day than yesterday. Mountains rising up in front, which I shall begin to ascend to-morrow if I make the whole march of twenty miles. Snow visible above all. The real work of the trip will now soon commence. The marches hitherto have been child's play compared with those to come. Mansera is only a native village, but there is a Dâk Bungalow, in which I am now. Met Captain Ellis, of the 4th Hussars, returning from Kashmir, and had a talk with him. There are _two_ routes open to me, he advises the one which yesterday I was warned against by the other fellows. They have been over both roads, yet do not agree as to which is the best. Ellis was disappointed with Kashmir, but he has only been a few months in India, and has not yet forgotten England, for I expect that Kashmir after all, is only so very pleasant, by contrast with the plains of India.
JULY 9th.--Started an hour before sunrise and did the whole march to Ghuri, distance nineteen miles. Walked the greater part of the way in sandals and socks, which I find the most comfortable way of getting on. First half of the march along the level to the foot of the hill, then an undulating road through a pine forest, the latter half easy walking owing to the ground being covered with fallen fir leaves which made it as soft as a carpet. A fine view from the top of hill, looking down to Ghuri. The river Ghuri, a mountain torrent seen for a long distance rushing with a great roar over its rocky bed, bounded on each side by high hills, and above by mountains covered with snow, from the melting of which it arises. The water is consequently icy cold, and my tub at the end of the march was highly invigorating. Put up at the Dâk Bungalow, a neat, clean, furnished building, standing on the right bank of the river, which is crossed just in front by a very fair suspension bridge. I can trace my route for to-morrow, for several miles, and I look at it with dismay as it ascends a terribly steep hill. There are two other men in the Bungalow, but I do not know who they are. I have not mentioned my equipment. It is so simple that a few lines will tell all. Two suits of old clothes, three flannel shirts, two warm under flannels, two pair of boots, "a light pair and a heavy pair of ammunitions," socks, handkerchiefs, &c., Mackintosh, warm bedding, a small tent called a "shildaree," a two-rolled ridge tent, about eight feet square, a dressing bag containing toilet requisites, a metal basin, salted tongues and humps, potatoes, tea, sugar, flour, mustard, &c., one bottle of brandy, to be reserved for medicinal use, a portable charpoy or bedstead, cane stool, a little crockery, knives and forks, cooking utensils, brass drinking cup for every purpose, a gingham umbrella with white cover, a dandy (previously described), solar topee, and light cap, tobacco, soap, and candles, a kookery, a stout alpen stock, a pass into Kashmir, and bag of money, and "voilà tout." For carrying this baggage, I require two mules, and two Coolies, or when mules are not procurable, seven Coolies. Four other Coolies man my dandy, and these men are going all the way with me. Each Coolie receives four annas, or sixpence a day, and a mule costs eight annas. Stopped under a "pepel tree" and sent some Coolies up it for the fruit, which was ripe. This tree is the Indian fig, and the fruit is very small, not larger than marbles; and without much flavor. The river is running a few yards from me, with a sound as of the surf on a rocky beach. I hope ere long to hear the same pleasant music seated on the cliffs of the south coast of Guernsey. Now my time in India is drawing to a close, I begin to think that it has not been altogether wasted, though I would not prolong it a day. All I have seen and done within a period of three years (so much falls to the lot of few men to perform) must have had some effect upon my mind; at any rate, when safe at home again, I shall have much to talk of, many experiences to relate. My dog Silly who accompanies me, was awfully done up towards the end of the march. At last we came to a running stream in which he laid down and was much refreshed, before that his panting had become gasping though he kept up with us bravely, only lying down for a moment when we came to a little bit of shade--not often met with, the last three or four miles. For the last day or two, I have been almost continually in a cool, gentle perspiration, this is a great contrast to my state when at Peshawur, where my skin was always as dry as a bone, and I look upon that as a healthy symptom, I have had no headache since I left Bugnostan.
JULY 10th.--To Mozufferabad nine miles, but apparently much more, such a bad fatiguing march. I got away with the first grey of the dawn and after a mile's tramp began the ascent of the Doabbuller pass, three and a half miles long and very steep, so steep that I could often touch the ground with my hands without stooping much. This was terribly exhausting and I had to make many halts to recover my breath. Then began a rough descent along the side of a mountain torrent and afterwards over its bed, which is a narrow gorge between high hills. This walking was very rough and difficult; the path being covered with great stones and often undistinguishable. Indeed it was no path at all, only the ground occasionally a little trodden. Through the stream, backwards and forwards _innumerable_ times we went. I found that my feet, though naked except where covered by the straps of the sandals, were able to take care of themselves, and avoid contusion almost without the help of my eyes. Then I came to a large and rapid river called the Kishun-gunga crossed by a rope bridge. Let me describe the bridge. Three or four leather ropes about one inch in diameter tied into a bundle to walk upon, three feet above this, a couple of ropes, two feet apart, the upper ropes connected to the lower one at intervals of four or five yards by stakes. This formed a V shape, and you walk on the point of the V and hold on by the two sides. The breadth of the river is sixty yards, and the bridge which is high above the water forms a considerable curve. The description of the bridge is easy enough, but how shall I describe my feelings, when I had gone a few yards and found myself poised in mid-air like a spider on a web, oscillating, swaying backwards and forwards over a foaming and roaring torrent, the rush of the water if I looked at my feet, made me feel as if I was being violently carried in the opposite direction; the bridge swayed and jumped with the weight of half a dozen natives coming from the opposite side whom I had to pass, the whole thing seemed so weak and the danger so terrible that I turned giddy, lost my head, and cried out to be held. A firm hand at once grasped me behind and another in front. I shut my eyes and so proceeded a few yards. Then those dreadful men had to be passed. Imagine meeting a man on a rope fifty feet above a torrent and requiring him to "give you the wall." However they were passed by a mysterious interlacing of feet; and when half way over I regained confidence, and bid the men "chando" or release me, and so gained the opposite bank, where I sat down and roared with laughter at my "boy" who was then coming over, and who evidently was much more affected than I was. However he arrived safely with his black face _pale_, dripping with perspiration and saying he was sick. What was most amusing was to see him hooking his legs one in front of the other on his way over, but I dare say I was equally laughable to anyone on terra firma. He told me afterwards "water all go down, and I go up and get sick and giddy." Another two miles over a low ridge and I got to Mozufferabad and put up at the Barahduree provided by the Maharajah for the convenience of English travellers free of charge, for we are now in Kashmerian territory. This is an unfurnished bungalow built of mud and pine logs, and there is one at every stage. This saves the trouble of pitching a tent, and is of course much better in wet weather. I have not had a drop of rain though yet. Met Watson, of Fane's Horse, at the bungalow going back to Peshawur. Got Incis's Guide from him for the day, and made some notes at the other end of this book. There is a picturesque fort on this bank of the river commanding the bridge, built by the Pathans, apparently of bright red stone or brick. It was interesting to see mules and ponies swimming across the stream. Holding on by the tail of each was a man supported by two inflated Mussaks or goat skins which are ordinarily used by the Bheisties for carrying water. Though both man and horse struck out vigorously they were carried down many hundred yards before reaching the opposite side. To look at them in the foam and rush of the river, and see their impetuous career down the current, they appeared to be doomed to certain destruction. I saw about twenty cross in this way. I walked the whole of this march, though often tired, as I preferred trusting my own legs to being carried in the dandy over such bad ground. Curran, Assistant-Surgeon, 88th Connaught Rangers, is one march in front of me. He has left his pony here till he returns. I suppose the last march was too much for him. I am very glad I did not bring my horse with me; I was strongly advised to do so, but I am afraid advice has not much weight with me; in this instance anyhow, my own opinion has proved the best. All the men I meet coming back have horses with them, but they are nearly all shoeless, lame and sick, and have not been ridden for weeks.