Chapter VIII (2)

Before I leave the subject I feel I ought to say something about the manners and customs of the people of India. A high-caste Brahmin, be he rich or poor, is venerated by all other castes of Hindoos. The country was ruled by them until we took possession of it; and, although our proud old flag now waves from Calcutta to Afghanistan, we do not interfere in any way with their religious observances, so long as they obey our laws and respect life and property. One of the most important events in civilised society is the selection of suitable partners in life; in happy England it is seldom a third party has any participation in the matter, but throughout India it is quite a different affair. A native, whether Hindoo or Mussulman, rich or poor, old or young, is allowed to have as many wives as he thinks fit or can support. The mode of selecting their wives and the marriage ceremony are very curious. Mr. Kalo, we will say, is a merchant or poor man (Ryot). He has a son (say ten years old). His neighbour's or friend's pet wife of the same caste is in an interesting condition, and the two fathers privately arrange for the children's marriage. The priest or priests of the same caste are sent for, and the boy, decked with jewellery, is betrothed to the forthcoming progeny, provided it should turn out to be of the opposite sex. A grand supper of currie and rice is then given to all friends and relatives, washed down with any amount of bhang. The boy is seated by the side of the happy (?) mother-in-law elect, the priests being masters of the ceremonies. Months roll on, and the happy day approaches. The little stranger is ushered into this world of trouble. Should it prove to be a girl, the priests are again sent for, and the betrothal is repeated, in presence of friends and relatives, a grand supper of course being given, and the portion falling to the lot of the innocent babe is then set apart. At seven years of age, providing both are alive, another ceremony takes place, when they are legally married, and, if of the upper class, the bride is decked with as much jewellery as she can fairly stand under; if of the middle or lower class, the ornaments are generally of silver, beautifully wrought; but the happy pair continue to reside with their respective parents until the bride is from ten to twelve years of age. In the meantime the boy may have been married a dozen times to young ladies whose betrothed husbands had died, and who would be regarded by Hindoo or Mussulman law as widows. The happy day, however, at last approaches. The young bride and bridegroom again meet, but this time at their mutual shrine or musjid. The young couple are here united by the priests. A banquet is then given, at which they are well sprinkled with rice, bhang being freely distributed. The bride is then driven off to the bridegroom's mansion (or hut, as the case may be), and next morning is ushered into the harem, decked with jewellery and precious stones, and from this time is looked upon as its head. She now bids farewell to the outer world, being considered the husband's pet wife, and is withdrawn from the gaze even of her own relatives. We in happy England on meeting with friends or relatives are accustomed, after our first greetings, to inquire after the wives and children; but in India it is the greatest insult you can offer a man, whatever his station, to mention his wife. The furthest you may go, according to Indian etiquette, is to ask whether the family is well. Many in the upper classes have some hundreds of wives, to all of whom they are legally married; and in both the upper and lower classes, in many instances, the husband does not know the names of some of his wives, as they continue to retain their own after marriage.

TAKING THE CENSUS.

During the taking of the census in India, in 1871, I was Garrison Sergeant-Major of Allahabad, and had some eight or ten Native male servants, all of whom were married, but I had never troubled myself about the number of wives or children they had, so long as they performed their duties in my service. Schedules were issued to all officers and non-commissioned officers detached (employed on the staff). I gave directions to my head Sirdar-bearer to parade the whole of my Native establishment, male or female, old or young, at a certain time in the verandah, opposite my door. The time arrived. All the men and children were duly paraded, but not a woman put in her appearance. I enquired where the wives were, and was told that they were in the house. I informed them that I must see them. They all looked at each other in blank despair. I gave them to understand that it was a Government order and that it must be obeyed. One man stated that I might kill him if I liked, but I should not see his wives. I had to be very firm with them, assuring them that I would not lay a finger on them, but that there was the order and it must and should be obeyed, even if I had to force my way into their harems. My wife came to my assistance, and, with a little coaxing from her, we succeeded in unearthing some forty "dear creatures" encased in chudders (or sheets) perforated about the face. They all sat down in families. I then commenced to take from the husbands their names and ages. On inquiring of the men the names and ages of their respective wives, I found they knew neither the one nor the other in many cases, and had to enquire of their spouses. Some of the dark ladies seemed to enjoy the joke, which they expressed in titters of laughter, but were only too glad when they were told they might go to their homes.

SERVANTS AND CASTE.

A gentleman in India is compelled to keep at least eight or ten servants, their salaries ranging from four rupees (8/-) to ten rupees (£1) per month; for the man who cooks your food will not put it on the table for you, or look after the table in any way; the man who brings you clean water won't take away the dirty; the one who sweeps your house will not clean your dog; the one that grooms your horse will not drive you; and the one that looks after your clothing and cash will do nothing else. The gardener will look after the garden, but should he come across anything dead, he will not touch it. The female servants will attend to the mistress and children in dressing them or walking out with them, but will not wash them or do any manual work. The dhoby (washerman) will wash and get up your clothing, but will do nothing else. Such is caste.

THE STEPS TAKEN TO PREVENT ANOTHER MUTINY.

Some of my readers would perhaps like to know what steps our Government has taken to guard against another revolt, as it is necessary that we must have a Native army. Previous to the outbreak, implicit confidence was placed in our Sepoys. Nearly all our forts were held by them. All treasure was in their keeping. They held large tracts of country, without a single company of Europeans near them. They were brigaded together, both horse, foot, and artillery, and not a troop, nor a single gun, manned by Europeans, was near to "contaminate" these much-pampered gents. Our vast magazines were in their custody. Things had come to such a state, that they would only do just as they liked. They had no one to overlook them, and consequently could hatch up just whatever they liked. They commenced to look upon themselves as lords and masters. Now just mark the difference in their relative position:--

1. All forts are manned by Europeans; not a Native company
lives in any fort of any note.

2. All treasures, and military stores of all descriptions,
are kept under the watchful eyes of European soldiers.

3. Not a station of any importance, from Calcutta to
Peshawur, but there are Native troops, with a full
proportion of Europeans to see fair play.

4. There is not a gun on the whole plain of India manned by
Natives--all are manned by Europeans. The only Native
gunners we have are those who man the mountain train
batteries--small guns carried on mules.

5. All ammunition for Infantry is kept in charge of
Europeans. The Natives are allowed three rounds per man.

6. No Native, high or low, rich or poor, is allowed to carry
arms except he holds a license--not even a stick with a
piece of iron attached to it.

7. All Native Regiments, both Horse and Foot, have Native
Christians serving in their ranks; most of the band and
drummers are Native Christians, and a watchful eye is kept
upon them, although perhaps many of them do not think so.
The native officers are now a very intelligent body of men.
They are promoted by merit, and some of them are very clever
fellows; whilst the old school were a lot of doting old
men--it would break their caste to look at them.

Again, the eurasions (half-castes) are now in such numbers all over the country that it would be a matter almost of impossibility for a conspiracy to be got up without their knowing it. The pure native hates them. Some of them are almost as black as one's boot, and yet they ape the European. A native would spit in their faces but for the strong arm of the law. They will tell you that "God made black man, and God made white man, but,"--with a contemptible sneer--"Sahib, who made them?"

So, if ever we have another outbreak, we shall know it is coming, and then, too, we must remember it will not now take our troops five months to reach the shores of India. We have a native army at this time, all told, of nearly 500,000 men, that would go to any part of the globe with us; and some of these fine mornings I dare prophecy Mr. Russia will find out to his cost that we have a really loyal native army, and led by some of the best blood this silver-coasted isle of ours can produce. We have nothing to fear, even from crafty Russia, although she boasts of two million bayonets. I say again our resources of good loyal resolute men even in the Punjaub alone, are inexhaustible, for our equal laws since the Mutiny have gained the high esteem of countless millions, that would, if we required it, follow us to any part of the globe. I do not wish to foster a bellicose spirit, but Russia must not come one yard further or she will have to confront in deadly conflict millions of a free, happy, and contented empire, determined to uphold at all costs our glorious old standard.

Before we close our notes upon India, we will just glance at the final transfer of the great East India Company of merchant adventurers trading in the East Indies. They had but small beginnings: they were nothing but a trading company; but gradually they kept advancing, grasping here a slice and there a slice, until 1757. The terrible tragedy of the Black Hole at Calcutta aroused to the highest pitch all the energies of the sons of Britain; and a Clive, with but a handful of men, dashed at their vast hordes on the plains of Plassey, scattered them in all directions, captured all their guns, dictated his own terms of peace, and laid the foundation of the British Empire in the East. This gigantic Company had extended our rule from Cape Comorin to the Himalayas, and from Bramapootra to the Bay of Combay; but by mismanagement this vast appendage had been shaken to its foundations: oceans of blood had been spilt, and India had had enough of slaughter. At length the happy day arrived (1st November, 1858) when the important announcement was made that the East India Company had ceased to exist, and that some two hundred and fifty millions of people were in future to be governed by Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria. This was truly a happy day throughout the length and breadth of this vast dependency. The Proclamation by the Queen in Council to the princes, chiefs and peoples of India was announced simultaneously at Calcutta, Bombay, Madras, Allahabad, Lahore, and throughout all the stations of India. Amidst the roar of cannon and triumphal martial music, our gracious Queen was proclaimed actual and supreme ruler of India. At the same time and places it was announced in her name that the claims of retributive justice had ceased, and the hand of mercy, with a Christian spirit, was held out for all crimes short of absolute and merciless murders of defenceless men, women and children, in accordance with the laws of God and man, that murderers shall die; but to all others forgiveness was freely offered. Thousands were frantic with joy, and called aloud for God to bless the Queen. We would here note a remarkable instance of the mutability of human grandeur. At Cawnpore (1st November, 1858), while the proclamation was being read, the ex-King of Delhi was brought into that station on his way to Calcutta, under a strong guard. The thunder of the guns, the triumphant strains of the bands, with the glitter and display all around--such a scene at such a station as Cawnpore was emphatically suggestive of the word "retribution." The following is a fair sample of the spirit that pervaded nearly all classes throughout India. The papers were full of speeches from educated native gentlemen. One ran as follows:--"Gentlemen, I see around me many of higher rank, and better able to express the sentiments of our countrymen than I am; but as you have done me the honour to call upon me on this important occasion, I have much pleasure in stating that my intercourse in life has been much with Englishmen, and I know so much of the vast resources, the great power and the great goodness of the English people, that I do not think myself altogether incompetent to offer an opinion. If I had power and influence I would proclaim throughout the length and breadth of the land that never were the natives more grievously mistaken than they have been in adopting the notion palmed upon them by designing and wicked men, that their religion was at stake. That notion has been at the root of the late rebellion. The mass of the people do not understand the English character: they do not understand the generosity, the benevolence of the governing power, the even-handed justice with which that power is willing and anxious always to do that which is right between man and man, without a reference whatever as to whether the man belongs to the governing or to the governed class. If all this were known, where would be rebellion in the land? Certainly there never would have been such an outbreak as that which recently shook the foundations of this empire. The only remedy is education. Nothing has distressed me more, among the acts of the late Government, than the positive prohibition against incurring any expense on the score of education. Lord William Bentinck--a name which must ever be remembered with reverence--once said in this city: That for all the evils, all the oppressions, all the grievances under which India labours, the first remedy was education, the second remedy was education, and the third remedy was education. But, gentlemen, to come to the point, I have read the proclamation of Her Majesty with great pleasure, with awakened feelings, with tears of joy when I came to the last paragraph.[21] A nobler production it has never been my lot to have met with. The most just, the broadest principles are therein set forth: humanity, mercy, justice, breathe through every line, and we ought all to welcome it with the highest hope and the liveliest gratitude. Depend upon it, when our Sovereign tells us, 'In your prosperity is our strength, in your contentment our security, and in your gratitude our best reward,' the future of India is full of encouragement and hope for her children. What could have been nobler or more beautiful, what could have better dignified even the tongue of a queen than language such as that? Let us kneel down before her with every feeling of loyalty: let us welcome the new reign with the warmest sentiment of gratitude and the deepest feeling of devotion. 'God bless our Queen.'" Since then, millions of money have been spent to improve this vast country, on roads, bridges, irrigation, canals, railroads; and last, but not least, education has not been forgotten. Every village has its school, but the creeds are respected, and in a few short years almost every tongue will call upon God to bless the British. They have now equality of laws: the same firm hand of justice that guides the European, guides, guards, and protects the poor, the widow and the fatherless. The teeming millions are governed in a Christian spirit, and are united to us in love and gratitude. "Unity is strength." We are not of those who wish to foster a bellicose spirit, but to live in peace with all mankind. But we would point out to our readers that British India is quite capable of defending herself against all comers, having an inexhaustible supply of men, and requiring only arms and good leaders, both of which are at our command. Our vast magazines throughout the country are well supplied with arms; and as for leaders, we have thousands who would not turn their backs upon the proudest and haughtiest sons of Adam's race, standing sentry, as it were, upon the gates of India.[22] We have nothing to fear, even from the craftiest of our enemies. Within three months, our Government could, if required, put three hundred thousand, four hundred thousand, or a million of men into the field, as well drilled as most of our crack regiments. The Indian Government have, for years past, had a splendid system of putting men or passing men into the Reserves: and each one of the Native regiments could, say within seven days, be brought up to a strength of ten thousand men, well drilled and well armed. The Reserves are being continually drilled at least one month per annum; they have all a life pension to look forward to: it is small, 'tis true--two annas (threepence) per diem; but that amount will keep a native and his family from starving. It is more to him than one shilling is here. Then you must remember he is not an old man: he has not reached the mature age of thirty years. Again, in accordance with the proclamation issued in 1858, we do not interfere in any way by force with their creed or caste, every man being permitted to worship God after the dictates of his own conscience. We have not the slightest hesitation in affirming that if the Lion in India was aroused, we could, within three months, put into the field such an army as would astonish the civilized world--most of them well drilled men, thousands of them not at all to be despised: Ghoorkas, Sikhs, Beloochees, and Afridis, with good leaders that would face Old Nick himself: they would die to a man, but never yield. We conquered them after a lot of hard fighting, as they had no unity. Now they all, united heart and hand, acknowledge one flag and one Empress. It cannot be denied, although crafty Russia holds out the olive branch of peace, that she means to have the whole of India if we will only allow her. Mark it well, reader: the advances of Russia, like those of a tiger, have ever been wary, crouching, and cowardly, until the moment arrives for pouncing upon her prey. They often disarm all apprehension of evil by pretensions to peace and friendliness; but so sure as she attacks India, she will find a "Tartar" in the Briton, backed up by tens, yea, hundreds of thousands of men that are second to none. She will find an united India, with its teeming millions, ready to uphold that flag which proclaims liberty to the slave, the conscience, the press: that protects with a strong arm all law-abiding subjects, whether of European or Asiatic origin. We have not the slightest hesitation in saying, that no European Power could withstand us in India. They must come by land or confront our fleet. A small army, say one hundred thousand, would be rolled up in no time: and a huge army, say of the strength that Napoleon invaded Russia with in 1812, would melt away from the ray of an Indian sun, faster than Napoleon's vast host did from frost. Rest content, reader, we have nothing to fear. India is able to defend herself so long as her sons are guided by the sons of Albion. Imbecile or traitorous must be that Government which slumbers while Russia is approaching its borders: while that grasping Power is approaching close to its frontiers, and with which, ere long, it will have to measure its strength and grapple with its huge battalions. But we see no fear, knowing the stamp, the indomitable pluck of hundreds of thousands of those who will stand by our old flag. In the end, the old Bear will have to retire from the Lion's grasp. But we must not be caught napping: our motto must be, "Fear God and keep your powder dry," and as true Britons we need fear no one else. No one from the Viceroy downwards dare to interfere with the natives. So long as they obey the laws, the strong arm of the law will protect them; the rich cannot oppress them, whilst the poor have the gospel preached to them. They have an open Bible in their own language; they can sit under their own vine and fig-tree, and none dare make them afraid. This is what our forefathers fought so desperately for, and handed down to us. There are now thousands throughout the vast plain and hills of peaceful India that know the joyful sound. Hundreds, yea, thousands whose forefathers worshipped the sun, the moon, the stars, the cow, the bull, the monkey, the peacock, and hundreds of other gods, now worship the only true and living God, through the Great Mediator, the Man Christ Jesus. Again, my readers must remember that thousands of Natives from Calcutta to Peshawur are well educated, fit to go into any society: they know as much about this densely populated God-defended isle as we do, and as much about Russia and its despotic laws, with Siberia and the knout, as we do. They have made the laws of different European nations their study: they know well our vast strength, that we are an undefeated race; that India is but a portion of the great empire that acknowledges London as its capital, and our beloved Queen as their Empress. They know well that the highest positions in the State are attainable by all that will qualify themselves, and yet retain, if they wish, their own religious beliefs. We have now Native judges sitting on our benches to administer justice, to all that seek its protection or that break the law. I hope my readers will be able to see that India is content, is happy and is safe. She will in the future stand or advance, shoulder to shoulder, with the sons of Albion, and side by side with the wild boys of the Green Isle; and any that should try to wrench it from us, will find a hard nut to crack in a hornet's nest.

LETTERS FROM INDIA.

The following are a few of my letters from India from 1857 to 1876. I trust that they will prove of more than passing interest. Some of them will be found amusing, whilst others will be found heart-rending, and will sink deep into more than one parent's heart, and set them thinking, "Where is my boy to-night?" Many of them were written under great difficulty, not with the thermometer below freezing point, but in the midst of heat that was almost enough to give one a slow bake, with the thermometer indicating in the sun 140° of heat, and in the shade 120°, with the sweat rolling off one like rain: in some stations with the hot winds, 30° can be added. But I felt it my duty and a privilege to write as often as I could to those that are near and dear to me. The following are all that can be found:--

Kurrachee, 28th Nov., 1857.

My Dear Parents,

Thank God, we have landed safe and sound once more on _terra
firma_, after a long and tedious sail across the ocean. We
had what is called a splendid voyage until we got near the
Cape of Good Hope, when a storm that threatened our entire
destruction overtook us. It was truly awful, with the
appalling claps of thunder (the loudest I have ever heard),
and the flashes of lightning were dreadful; while a heavy
sea broke completely over us, carrying all before it. I was
on watch on deck. It was about three o'clock a.m. on the
19th of October. Half the watch were ordered below and the
hatches fastened down, when, with a crash, down came the
foremast. The shrieks of the women and children below were
piteous, while the cries of the poor fellows gone overboard
with the fallen mast were dreadful. The watch, I am happy to
say, were calm and did all they could to help the sailors;
but alas! the poor fellows that had gone overboard, we could
not save. The sea was rolling mountains high, and no boat
could live one minute in it. It was as dark as the grave,
save when the flashes of lightning revealed our misery. Then
another terrible sea caught us, dashed us on our beam-ends,
swept away all our boats, with the bulwarks on the port
side, and the two remaining masts were snapped asunder as if
they had been twigs. To all human appearance the
Head-quarters of the Royal Fusiliers (about 350 strong) were
doomed to a watery grave, when the good ship (the "Owen
Glandore") righted herself. We looked in a terrible plight.
A portion of the mainmast was left, with the mainsail all in
ribbons. Seventeen poor fellows were washed overboard to
meet a watery grave. Ropes were thrown to them, but it was
all in vain. The captain was an old salt veteran of some
fifty years; and with his trumpet gave his orders as calmly
as possible. All was right with such a man, in life or in
death. The sea was now breaking completely over us, and we
had to hold on the best way we could. About five a.m. she
gave a terrible dive, as we thought; it was a huge wave
passing completely over us. The timbers of the noble ship
cracked, and she shook from stem to stern; the captain,
lashed to the poop, still calm. I think I see that manly
face uplifted, as he exclaimed with a loud voice: "Thank
God! she still floats." He then shouted to our Colonel
Aldsworth, "If the mainsail goes, all is lost; you are in
greater danger now than ever you were in front of
Sebastopol." We (the watch) could but look at that calm
face, but not a word was uttered. Death was all around us,
but as true Britons it was no use murmuring; all was quiet,
all were calm. We were truly, dear parents, looking death in
the face, for there were no back-doors. But just then, when
skill had done its best, and when to all human appearance we
were about to be launched into eternity, to meet a watery
grave, a still inaudible voice said: "Peace be still." The
wind ceased, and the storm was all over; but the sea was
still rolling heavily, and we were but a helpless tub in the
midst of the raging billows of the fathomless ocean.
Gradually, however, the ocean became a heavy swell, and in a
few hours as calm as a fish-pond. We had had a most
miraculous escape, and our brave old captain requested the
colonel to have prayers at once, and thank Him fervently who
said to the raging billows: "Peace be still." All hands were
at once set to work, and all who could use a needle were set
to sail-making. Jurymasts were brought up out of the hold,
and in a few days, without putting into port, we began to
look quite smart again, and went on our way rejoicing, to
help to revenge our murdered countrymen, women and children.
The captain complimented our colonel upon having such a cool
body of men. We find this country in a terrible state, but I
see no fear but what we shall be a match for them before it
is over. I have not time to say more at present; will drop a
few lines, if possible, next mail, and give you all the news
I can. I am happy to say I am quite well, and we must make
the best of a bad job. It will not do to give in at trifles.
We are to have an execution parade this afternoon; there are
twelve of these beauties to be blown from the mouth of the
cannon. We have had one such parade before. 'Tis a horrible
sight--legs, arms, and all parts of the body flying about,
and coming to mother earth with a thud. The sight is so
sickening that I do not care to dwell upon it. Give my
respects to all old friends, and

Believe me,
My dear Parents,
Your affectionate Son,
T. GOWING,
Sergeant Royal Fusiliers.

Kurrachee, East India, 4th Dec., 1857.

My Dear Dear Parents,

Once more, a line from what some people call a glorious
land, but to give it its proper name just now, it is a hell
upon earth. The fiend-like deeds that are being perpetrated
daily out here are beyond description, and should these
brutes get the better of our troops, every European here
will have to die a terrible death, and we shall have to
commence with another "Plassy." But I see no fear. Mark me,
we shall beat these murderers of women and children, but it
will not do to stop to count them. Thousands of men who
fought and conquered at the Alma, Balaclava, Inkermann, and
twice stormed the bloody parapets of the Redan, are not men
to be easily subdued. I see our Government has put the right
man into the right place as our commander and leader. Sir
Colin Campbell is not a man likely to be "taken short," but
is a regular go-ahead, fire-eating old cock. He is,
moreover, no novice, has been trained in a rough school
under Wellington, Gough, and Napier. It was he that put the
finishing touch on the Russians at the Alma and commanded
the thin red line at Balaclava, thus nobly sustaining the
prestige of the flag that has waved triumphant out here
since Plassey (1757), and which may now with safety be
entrusted to his keeping. We had no idea when we left
Portsmouth that we were bound for such a hell-hole as this,
or I do not think we should have brought our women and
children with us. I find we are to move up country shortly;
we are waiting for reinforcements; the women and children
and all extra baggage to be left behind. That looks like
business. Our Government is not going to play with these
gents; and, as true Britons, if we are to die, we shall meet
death sword in hand. Our men are roused to a pitch almost of
frantic madness to get at the cowardly brutes. Cawnpore and
Jensie will be wiped out with a terrible retribution.
Britons have the feelings of humanity, but one's blood runs
cold to read and to hear daily of the dastard base deeds (of
the rebels), to poor defenceless women and children, for no
other crime than that they have white faces. I dare prophecy
that the enemy will find out we are the true offspring of
their conquerors at Plassey, Seringapatam, Ferozeshah,
Moodkee, Sobraon, Goojerat, and scores of other fields where
they have had to bow in humble submission to our
all-conquering thin red line. As for myself, I see no fear.
I shall not die till my time comes, and the same powerful
Hand that has protected me thus far, is able to do it out
here. Our line--the ever-memorable thin victorious line--is
already advancing, and it will not halt until our proud old
flag is again waved in supremacy over all the fortresses,
cities, and fertile plains of India, and these cringing
brutes begging for mercy (what they are now strangers to). I
will, if I am spared, take notes, and write as often as I
can. You must try and keep your spirits up. I am as happy as
a bug in a rug. I never go half-way to meet troubles, and I
believe the best way to get over all difficulties in this
world is to face them. I have a few pounds that I have no
use for; please accept them as a mark of love from your wild
boy. Poor mother will find a use for them. I enclose a draft
on Gurney's Bank. We have a number of Norwich men in the
Fusiliers, most of them fine-looking men; they joined us as
volunteers from other regiments just before we left home.

It is now the depth of winter, but we find it quite warm
enough during the day. I intend to adhere strictly to
temperance, hot or cold. I could stand the cold in the
Crimea without drink stronger than coffee; and as we crossed
the equator twice on our voyage out here, I think I know a
little already of what excessive heat is, and I did without
it then. Our doctors all agree that the temperate man out
here has the best of it. He is more prepared to resist the
different diseases that prevail among Europeans, such as
fevers, rheumatism, disorder of the liver, and even cholera;
that I can testily from my experience in Turkey and the
Crimea. I find the inhabitants out here are a mixed up lot,
but if one can once master the Hindoostanee language, he can
make himself understood all over the vast plains, from
Calcutta to Peshawur. As soon as things are a little bit
quiet, I shall go in for Hindoostanee. Tell poor mother to
keep her pecker up. I do not believe this "row" out here
will last long, as troops are landing in all directions; and
if they could not subdue a handful of men that were in the
country when it started last May, what may they expect now
that the Crimean veterans are thrown into the scale against
them. It will be a war of extermination. I do not think our
men will wait to quarter the foe; if we can only close with
them, it will be one deadly thrust with that never-failing
weapon, the bayonet, and all debts will be paid: retribution
must eventually overtake such bloodthirsty wretches. But I
must bring this to a close. Give my kind regards to all old
friends, trusting this will find you as it leaves me, in the
enjoyment of that priceless blessing, good health.

And believe me,
My dear Patents, as ever,
Your affectionate Son,
T. GOWING,
Sergeant Royal Fusiliers.

P.S.--I find our old friends of the Light Division the 2nd
Rifles, the 23rd Fusiliers, the 88th Connaught Rangers, the
90th and 97th have already had a "shy" at the foe, and thus
helped to revenge poor defenceless creatures. Our turn will
come yet; it will then be "the d--l take the hindermost."
Please address as above; it will follow me if I am above the
soil. Keep your spirits up, mother dear.

T. G.

Camp, Meean-Meer (Punjaub),
5th April, 1858.

My Dear and ever Dear Parents,

From my former letters from Kurrachee and Mooltan, and by
the newspapers, you will see how near the verge of ruin this
large appendage to our empire has been brought; in fact, it
has been shaken to its foundations, by (what shall I say),
mismanagement. And these much puffed-up Sepoys (native
soldiers) have been spoilt; and, depending upon their
strength and our weakness (for kindness has evidently been
looked upon as weakness), they have risen up to crush us.
The determined stands that our handful of men have made on
the heights around Delhi and other places where the honour
of our glorious old flag has been at stake, has been
sublime, and rendered them worthy to rank beside the heroes
of Albuera, Salamanca, Vittoria, Waterloo, Alma, Inkermann,
the Nile, and Trafalgar; and whilst Old England, side by
side the brave sons of Ireland, can produce such men to
stand beside and guard her flag, she has nothing to fear;
and the Sepoys out here will find, I dare prophecy, before
twelve months have rolled over, that we are the true
descendants of these conquerors. If they could not subdue a
mere handful of men, what may they expect now that the
veterans of Alma and Inkermann are thrown into the scale
against them. A terrible day of vengeance has dawned; the
sword of justice will be plunged into the hearts of the
murderers of defenceless women and children. The lion in the
Briton is roused, the blood of the innocent cry for
vengeance. But remember, it's only the native army that has
risen against us; the inhabitants generally are on the side
of law and order. And, I will be bound, our troops will take
tea with the traitors before we have done with them, and
bring them on their knees begging for mercy (to which they
are strangers). Now for a little news. In my letter from
Kurrachee I told you that we expected to re-embark and go
round to Calcutta; but instead of that, our Government, with
the reinforcements that were arriving almost daily, were
determined to grapple with the mutineers, North, East, West,
and South, at the same time; so strong reinforcements have
been pushed on into the Punjaub to strike its war-like
inhabitants with awe. And the Royal Fusiliers--second to
none--about 1300 bayonets; the 94th, 1200 strong; the 7th
Dragoon Guards (or Black Horse), about 800 sabres, and three
batteries of Horse and Field Artillery, with 24 guns, moved
up country. The natives received us in every camp with joy
and gladness. It was very pleasant when we left Kurrachee in
December last; we had a march of about 120 miles to the
banks of the river Indus--it's a noble stream. We found the
road or track very sandy--we sank near to our ankles in sand
at every stride--which made it hard work to get along. But
the honour of our flag was at stake, and I think I may say,
without egotism, that it was safe in our hands. We had
native guides to take us across the desert, as in many
places there was no trace of road. The inhabitants brought
all sorts of eatables in the way of fish, vegetables, eggs,
fowls, and fruit into our camp. The accounts that appear in
the country papers daily are enough to make one's blood
boil. The murdering, bloodthirsty villains will all meet
their doom yet. I told you a little of how we treated them
in Kurrachee and Mooltan, and should we ever cross the path
of these murdering traitors, I will be bound to say that our
fellows will give it them right and left.

We found flat-bottom boats awaiting us on the Indus, and at
once marched on board. Each steamer had a flat-bottomed boat
to tow up; with each pair they could stow away about 400
men, with kits and arms. As soon as all were on board, off
we started. Our destination, as far as we then knew, was
Mooltan. We found we had to face a very strong current, with
a native at the head of the boat constantly sounding. It was
very amusing to hear him shouting continually, from morning
till night: "No bottom, no bottom." "Stop her; back her."
"Teen put" (3 feet). "Chay put" (6 feet). "No bottom."
"Sanadoo put" (2-1/2 feet). "Stop her!" Often we would stick
fast on a sand-bank, when all the crew, and perhaps some 50
of our men, would jump into the water and shove her back. At
other times we would have to land half our men at a time,
with long ropes to pull the steamer and flat along, or we
should have lost ground. Sometimes it was rough work, with
so many creeks to cross up to our middles, and sometimes our
necks, in mud and water. The first to cross would be a
native boatman to make the rope fast; then it did not matter
much how deep it was. You would be astonished how quickly
our men got over. We have a very witty Irishman in my
Company, and he often kept us all alive. One morning, as we
were about to get over one of these nice creeks, he shouted
out: "Here go, boys, for ould Ireland's home and glory," as
he dashed into it. As you know, I do not drink, and so our
witty friend often gets my go of rum. We found the river
abounded with gigantic amphibious reptiles--crocodiles. We
had a little sport daily, shooting them; also huge snakes
in abundance. So it was not safe even in the creeks to have
a bathe. We lost one man overboard; the poor fellow was
snapped up by a crocodile before a boat could reach him. We
lost another man by the bite of a snake; both these men had
gone through the whole of the Crimean campaign. In due
course we arrived safely at Mooltan--1300 miles from
Kurrachee. Here we remained for a few days and had a good
look at the citadel from whence the valuable
Koh-i-noor--worth about £2,000,000 sterling--was taken by
Lord Gough, and presented to Her Most Gracious Majesty in
1848. We then pushed on here by bullock carts through a vast
desert, the road all the way being strewn with straw. We had
to take turns at riding, one company being sent on daily
until we had all left Mooltan. We had five days of this sort
of travelling.

On the evening of the fifth day our first company--about 130
strong--marched in here. The 81st were delighted to see us.
They were very weak, having suffered heavily last year with
cholera. They had been holding on by the skin of their
teeth, for there are about 4000 mutineers here, and the 81st
were only about 300 strong at headquarters, having two
strong detachments out. Those of our men who were with the
leading companies, came out to meet us with all sorts of
news. We all landed here safely by the end of February,
except sick, lame, and lazy, and women and children who were
left behind at Kurrachee, as we expected to take the field.
Our men were almost mad with rage when the order came in for
us to remain at Meean Meer; the old Fusiliers wanted to
measure their strength with these bloodthirsty wretches at
Lucknow. But we found, after sending out two or three strong
detachments, that we had a handful here, prisoners being
brought in daily from the surrounding country, tried, and
executed at once. The execution parades are ghastly sights
to witness, but the horrible, fiend-like deeds that they
have perpetrated leave but little room in our hearts for
pity. We execute, more or less, every day. The blowing away
from the mouth of the cannon is a sickening sight, and I do
not care to dwell upon it. Since we came here I have been
appointed drill-sergeant of the regiment. It carries one
shilling per diem extra; but I am at it from 4 a.m. until 7
p.m., but rest during the day time. You, I think, will
notice the date of this. I know poor mother will remember
it. I am just 24 years in this troublesome world. I enclose
a small draft for poor mother's acceptance; it is the first
three months' extra pay, and a little with it to make it up
to a "fiver." Mind, this is for mother's use, and no one
else is to interfere with it. If we are ordered into the
field I will drop a line if possible, but not a little
newspaper. I see no fear; I shall not die till my time
comes; I do not believe the man is born yet that is to shoot
me, or surely I never should have escaped so often as I did
in the Crimea. When I look back to the fields of the Alma,
the two Inkermanns, the night of the 22nd of March, the 7th
and 18th of June (1855), the dash at the rifle pits, and no
end of other combats, including the storming of Sebastopol,
I cannot but think that I am being spared by an All-wise God
for some special purpose; that, to all appearance, He has
built a hedge around about me, and has permitted the deadly
weapons to go thus far and no farther, to show me in days to
come the finger of His love. Again, dear parents, look over
my letter wherein I describe that terrible 19th of October,
off the Cape of Good Hope, when to all human appearance the
ship "Owen Glandore" was lost, and all on board consigned to
a watery grave. You note that we lost all our boats, masts
and sail, and were nothing but a helpless tub floating with
a freight of 390 human beings, expecting every moment to be
launched into eternity. But just as our gallant captain said
all was lost, an inaudible voice said: "Peace be still,"
when the wind ceased, and all, except 17 men that had been
washed overboard, were saved. I find by the country papers
that summary punishment is being fast dealt out to these
wretches all over the country, and that they will not face
our men, the dreaded "Feringhees," as they call us, unless
behind strong positions, and that they are receiving daily
some very awkward lessons and have already found that our
reign in India is not all over.

These little Ghoorkas are the inhabitants of the Nepaul
Hills, and just at present they are worth their weight in
gold to us. I should think, from what I have read and heard
of them, that there are no better soldiers in the world, if
well led; and the Sikhs that gave us so much trouble in
1845-6 and 1848-9, are not far behind them. We have a
regiment of the latter here with us; they are fine-looking
men, not at all to be despised. I went, by permission,
through the Mutineers' camp a few days ago. I was astonished
to find that a number of them could speak English--mind,
they are all of them disarmed. We found some of them very
talkative, asking all sorts of questions about the Russians,
when they found we had been fighting them. I asked one
venerable looking officer, with his breast covered with
honours, what he thought about the Mutiny. His answer was
that it was brought about by bad, wicked men who had eaten
the Government salt; that there were good and bad in every
regiment, and that the bad men had roused them all. I asked
him if he, as an old officer, thought our Government would
have given in if we had been beaten at Delhi? "No, never"
was his reply. He stated that he had served us faithfully
for upwards of 40 years, that he had fought many a
hard-fought field against the Sikhs, and would never forsake
us; they might kill him if they liked, but he would be
faithful to the end. This old veteran could say no more, and
with the big tears rolling down his furrowed cheeks, he left
us with a "Salam, salam, sahibs." We found others looked at
us with contempt, but they were silent. The 16th Grenadiers
are one of the disarmed regiments here. I think I never
looked upon such a body of men; they may well be called
Grenadiers. I am not a waster, and I had to look up into the
face of every man I came near. Some rose to salute us, while
others sat contemptuously looking at us. I find they have
the reputation of being the best fighting regiment in the
East India Company. Some of them cursed the cavalry and said
it was all their fault they were disgraced as they were; and
that they would go to Lucknow and fight to the death for us,
if the Lord Sahib would let them. But I must bring this to a
close, or I could keep it up for a week. You ask me if you
may publish my letters. Please yourself; I state nothing but
facts. I hope this will find you all as it leaves me, in the
enjoyment of the best of blessings, good health, and believe
me, as ever,

Your affectionate Son,
T. GOWING,
Drill-Sergeant Royal Fusiliers.

P.S.--A long letter costs no more to send than a short one,
and one feels a pleasure in writing to those we love, but
cannot see. Keep up your spirits, mother.

T. G.

Meean-Meer, 26th May, 1858.

My Dear Parents,