Chapter VII

MARRIAGE.--COMMAND OF THE GUIDES.--FRONTIER
WARFARE.--MURDAN.

On the 5th of January, 1852, Lieut. Hodson was married, at the Cathedral, Calcutta, to Susan, daughter of Capt. C. Henry, R. N., and widow of John Mitford, Esq., of Exbury, Hants. By the first week in March he had resumed his duties at Kussowlee as Assistant Commissioner. On the breaking out of the war with Burmah he expected to rejoin his regiment, (the First Bengal European Fusileers,) which had been ordered for service there, but in August he writes from Kussowlee:--

My regiment is on its way down the Ganges to Calcutta, to
take part in the war, but the Burmese have proved so very
unformidable an enemy this time, that only half the intended
force is to be sent on from Calcutta; the rest being held in
reserve. Under these circumstances, and in the expectation
that the war will very speedily be brought to a close, the
Governor-General has determined not to allow officers on
civil employment to join their regiments in the usual
manner. I am thus spared what would have been a very
fatiguing and expensive trip, with very little hope of
seeing any fighting.

It was not long, however, before an opportunity of seeing active service presented itself, and in a way, of all others, most to his taste. His heart had all along been with his old corps, "the Guides," as his letters show. He had taken an active share in raising and training them originally, and, as second in command during the Punjaub campaign of 1848-9, had contributed in no small degree to gain for the Corps that reputation which it has recently so nobly sustained before Delhi.

The command was now vacant, and was offered to him; but I must let him speak for himself:--

KUSSOWLEE, _Sept. 23d, 1852_.

Lumsden, my old Commandant in the Guides, goes to England
next month, and the Governor-General has given me the
command which I have coveted so long. It is immense good
fortune in every way, both as regards income and
distinction. It is accounted the most honorable and arduous
command on the frontier, and fills the public eye, as the
papers say, more than any other.

This at the end of seven years' service is a great thing,
especially on such a frontier as Peshawur, at the mouth of
the Kyber Pass. You will agree with me in rejoicing at the
opportunities for distinction thus offered to me.

Mr. Thomason writes thus: "I congratulate you very sincerely
on the fine prospect that is open to you, and trust that
you will have many opportunities of showing what the Guides
can do under your leadership. I have never ceased to
reproach myself for advising you to leave the Corps, but now
that you have the command, you will be all the better for
the dose of civilianism that has been intermediately
administered to you."

* * * * *

KUSSOWLEE, _Oct. 7th, 1852_.

Here I am, still, but hoping to take wing for Peshawur in a
few days. It is only 500 miles; and, as there are no
railways, and only nominal roads, and five vast rivers to
cross, you may suppose that the journey is not one of a few
hours' lounge.

I am most gratified by the appointment to the command of the
Guides, and more so by the way in which it was given me, and
the manner of my selection from amidst a crowd of aspirants.
It is no small thing for a subaltern to be raised to the
command of a battalion of infantry and a squadron and a half
of cavalry, with four English officers under him! I am
supposed to be the luckiest man of my time. I have already
had an offer from the Military Secretary to the Board of
Administration to exchange appointments with him, although I
should gain, and he would lose 200_l._ a year by the "swop;"
but I would not listen to him; I prefer the saddle to the
desk, the frontier to a respectable, wheel-going,
dinner-giving, dressy life at the capital; and--ambition to
money!

But though his "instincts were so entirely military," (to use his own words,) this did not prevent his discharging his civil duties in a manner that called forth the highest eulogium from his superiors, as the subjoined letter from Mr. Edmonstone, now Secretary to Government at Calcutta, will testify:--

"KUSSOWLEE, _Oct. 12th, 1852_.

"MY DEAR HODSON,--I am a bad hand at talking, and could not
say what I wished, but I would not have you go away without
thanking you heartily for the support and assistance which
you have always given me in all matters, whether big or
little, since you joined me, now twenty months and more ago.
I have in my civil and criminal reports for the past year
recorded my sense of your services, and your official
merits, but our connection has been peculiar, and your
position has been one which few would have filled either so
efficiently or so agreeably to all parties. You have
afforded me the greatest aid in the most irksome part of my
duty, and have always with the utmost readiness undertaken
anything, no matter what, that I asked you to dispose of,
and I owe you more on this account than a mere official
acknowledgment can repay adequately. I hope that though your
present appointment will give you more congenial duties and
better pay, you will never have occasion to look back to the
time you have passed here with regret; and I hope too that
all your anticipations of pleasure and pride, in commanding
the Corps which you had a chief hand in forming, may be
realized.

"Believe me to be, with much regard,
"Yours very sincerely,
"G. F. EDMONSTONE."

* * * * *

CAMP IN HUZARA, _Dec. 16th, 1852_.

I took command of the Guides on the 1st November, and
twenty-four hours afterwards marched "on service" to this
country, which is on the eastern or left bank of the Indus,
above the parallel of Attok. We are now in an elevated
valley, surrounded by snowy mountains, and mighty cold it
is, too, at night. We have come about 125 miles from
Peshawur, and having marched up the hill, are patiently
expecting the order to march down again. We have everything
necessary for a pretty little mountain campaign but an
enemy. This is usually a _sine qua non_ in warfare, but not
so now. Then we have to take a fort, only it has ceased to
exist months ago; and to reinstate an Indian ally in
territories from which he was expelled by some neighbors,
only he wont be reinstated at any price.

My regiment consists of five English officers, including a
surgeon, Dr. Lyell, a very clever man. Then I have 300
horse, including native officers, and 550 foot, or 850 men
in all, divided into three troops and six companies,[15] the
latter armed as riflemen. My power is somewhat despotic, as
I have authority to enlist or dismiss from the service, flog
or imprison, degrade or promote any one, from the native
officers downwards, always remembering that an abuse of
power might lose me the whole. This sort of chiefdom is
necessary with a wild sort of gentry of various races and
speeches, gathered from the snows of the Hindoo Koosh and
the Himalaya, to the plains of Scinde and Hindostan, all of
whom are more quick at blows than at words, and more
careless of human life than you could possibly understand in
England by any description. I am likely to have civil charge
as well as military command of the Euzofzai district,
comprising that portion of the great Peshawur valley which
lies between the Cabul River and the Indus. So you see I am
not likely to eat the bread of idleness at least. I will
tell you more of my peculiar duties when I have more
experience of their scope and bent.... I am, I should say,
the most fortunate man in the service, considering my
standing. The other candidates were all field-officers of
some standing.

Our good friend and guest, Captain Powys, of the 60th, who
has spent the first six months of our married life under our
roof, is on the way to England. He will see you very soon,
and give you a better account of us than you could hope for
from any one else.

Notwithstanding all appearance to the contrary at its opening, the campaign lasted seven weeks, and supplied plenty of fighting. It was afterwards characterized by my brother as the hardest piece of service he had yet seen. One engagement lasted from sunrise to sunset. He had thus an opportunity of displaying his usual gallantry and coolness, and showing how well he could handle his "Guides" in mountain warfare. They suffered much from cold, as the ground was covered with snow for a part of the time, and from want of supplies.

Colonel (now Sir R.) Napier, speaking afterwards of this expedition, said:--

"Your brother's unfailing fun and spirits, which seemed only raised by what we had to go through, kept us all alive and merry, so that we looked back upon it afterwards as a party of pleasure, and thought we had never enjoyed anything more."

In reply to congratulations on his appointment, my brother wrote from--

PESHAWUR, _March 13th, 1853_.

I have certainly been very fortunate indeed, and only hope
that I may be enabled to acquit myself of the trust well and
honorably, both in the field and in the more political
portion of my duties. It was a good thing that I had the
opportunity of leading the regiment into action so soon
after getting the command, and that the brunt of the whole
should have fallen upon us, as it placed the older men and
myself once more on our old footing of confidence in one
another, and introduced me to the younger hands as their
leader when they needed one. Susie says she told you all
about it; I need therefore only add that it was the hardest
piece of service, while it lasted, I have yet seen with the
Guides, both as regards the actual fighting, the
difficulties of the ground, (a rugged mountain, 7,000 feet
high, and densely wooded,) and the exposure. You will see
little or no mention of it publicly, it being the policy of
Government to make everything appear as quiet as possible on
this frontier, and to blazon the war on the eastern side of
the empire (some 2,000 miles away) as much as they can. I
am, as you justly imagined, to be employed both civilly and
in a military capacity,--at least, it is under discussion.
I was asked to take charge of the wild district of
"Euzofzai," (forming a large portion of the Peshawur
province,) where the Guides will ordinarily be stationed. I
refused to do so unless I had the exclusive civil charge in
all departments, magisterial, financial, and judicial,
instead of in the former only, as proposed, and I fancy they
will give in to my reasons. I shall then be military chief,
and civil governor, too, as far as that part of the valley
is concerned, and shall have enough on my hands, as you may
suppose. In the mean time, I shall have the superintendence
of the building of a fort to contain us all,--not such a
fortress as Coblentz, or those on the Belgian frontier, but
a mud structure, which answers all the purposes we require
at a very, very small cost.

* * * * *

PESHAWUR, _April 30th, 1853_.

I am sorry to say my wife is ordered to the hills, and we
shall again be separated for five or six months. My own
destination for the hot season is uncertain, but I expect to
be either here, or on the banks of the Indus.

* * * * *

CAMP, NEAR PESHAWUR, _June 4th, 1853_.

... I hope to get away from work and heat in August or
September for a month, if all things remain quiet. But for
this sad separation, there would be much charm for me in
this gypsy life. To avoid the great heats of the next three
months in tents, we are building huts for ourselves of
thatch, and mine is assuming the dignity of mud walls. We
are encamped on a lovely spot, on the banks of the swift
and bright river, at the foot of the hills, on the watch for
incursions or forays, and to guard the richly cultivated
plain of the Peshawur valley from depredations from the
hills. We are ready, of course, to boot and saddle at all
hours; our rifles and carabines are loaded, and our swords
keen and bright; and woe to the luckless chief who, trusting
to his horses, descends upon the plain too near our pickets!
Meanwhile, I am civil as well as military chief, and the
natural taste of the Euzofzai Pathans for broken heads,
murder, and violence, as well as their litigiousness about
their lands, keeps me very hard at work from day to day.
Perhaps the life may be more suited to a careless bachelor,
than to a husband with such a wife as mine; but even still
it has its charms for an active mind and body. A daybreak
parade or inspection, a gallop across the plain to some
outpost, a plunge in the river, and then an early breakfast,
occupy your time until 9 A. M. Then come a couple of corpses
whose owners (late) had their heads broken overnight, and
consequent investigations and examinations; next a batch of
villagers to say their crops are destroyed by a storm, and
no rents forthcoming. Then a scream of woe from a plundered
farm on the frontier, and next a grain-dealer, to say his
camels have been carried off to the hills. "Is not this a
dainty dish to set before--your brother." Then each of my
nine hundred men considers me bound to listen to any amount
of stories he may please to invent or remember of his own
private griefs and troubles; and last, not least, there are
four young gentlemen who have each his fancy, and who often
give more trouble in transacting business than assistance in
doing it. However, I have no right to complain, for I am
about, yes, quite, the most fortunate man in the service;
and have I not the right to call myself the happiest also,
with such a wife and such a home?

* * * * *

CAMP, NEAR PESHAWUR, _August 6th, 1853_.

I hear that the new system for India is to throw open
Addiscombe and Haileybury to public competition; that this
public competition will be fair and open, and free from
jobbery and patronage, I suppose no sane person in the 19th
century, acquainted with public morals and public bodies,
would believe for an instant. The change may, however,
facilitate admission into the service to well-crammed boys.
There are, I doubt not, many clever and able men who would
in a year put any boy with tolerable abilities into a state
of intellectual coma, which would enable him to write out
examination papers by the dozen, and pass a triumphant
examination in paper-military affairs. I am not called upon
to state how much of it would avail in the hour of strife
and danger. India is, _par excellence_, the country for poor
men who have hard constitutions and strong stomachs. I fear
you will add, when you have read thus far, that it is not
favorable to charity, or to the goodness which, under the
pious wish to think no evil, gives every one credit for
everything, and believes that words mean what they appear to
express, and that language conveys some idea of the thoughts
of the speaker!... It is very trying that I cannot be with
Susie at Murree; but with a people such as these it is not
safe to be absent, lest the volcano should break out afresh.
Since I began this sheet a dust-storm has covered everything
on my table completely with sand. My pen is clogged, and my
inkstand choked, and my eyes full of dust! What am I to do?
Oh, the pleasures of the tented field in August in the
valley of Peshawur! It has been very hot indeed, lately. We
have barely in our huts had the thermometer under 100 deg., and
a very steamy, stewy heat it is, into the bargain.

* * * * *

MURREE, _Sept. 14th, 1853_.

I am enjoying a little holiday from arms and cutchery up in
the cool here with Susie. Murree is not more than 140 miles
from Peshawur. You say that you do not know "what I mean by
hills in my part of India." This is owing to the badness of
the maps. The fact is, that the whole of the upper part of
the country watered by the five rivers is mountainous. The
Himalaya extends from the eastern frontiers of India to
Affghanistan, where it joins the "Hindoo Koosh," or
Caucasus. If you draw a line from Peshawur, through Rawul
Pindee, to Simla or Subathoo, or any place marked on the
maps thereabouts, you may assume that all to the north of
that line is mountain country. Another chain runs from
Peshawur, down the right bank of the Indus to the sea. At
Attok the mountains close in upon the river, or more
correctly speaking, the river emerges from the mountains,
and the higher ranges end there. The Peshawur valley is a
wide open plain, lying on the banks of the Cabul River,
about sixty miles long by forty broad, encircled by
mountains, some of them covered with snow for eight or nine
months of the year. Euzofzai is the northeastern portion of
this valley, embraced between the Cabul River and the Indus.
Half of Euzofzai (the "abode of the children of Joseph") is
mountain, but we only hold the level or plain part of it.
Nevertheless, a large part of my little province is very
hilly. In the northeast corner of Euzofzai, hanging over the
Indus, is a vast lump of a hill, called "Mahabun" (or the
"great forest"), thickly peopled on its slopes, and giving
shelter to some 12,000 armed men, the bitterest bigots which
even Islam can produce. The hill is about 7,800 feet above
the level of the sea. This has been identified by the wise
men with the Aornos of Arrian, and Alexander is supposed to
have crossed the Indus at its foot. Whether he did so or not
I am not "at liberty to mention," but it is certain that
Nadir Shah, in one of his incursions into India, marched his
host to the top of it, and encamped there. This gives color
to the story that the Macedonian did the same. As in all
ages, there are dominating points which are seized on by men
of genius when engaged in the great game of war. The great
principles of war seem to change as little as the natural
features of the country. Well, you will see how a mountain
range running "slantingdicularly" across the Upper Punjaub
contains many nice mountain tops suited to Anglo-Saxon
adventurers. If you can find Rawul Pindee on the maps, you
may put your finger on Murree, about twenty-five miles, as
the crow flies, to the northeast. You should get a map of
the Punjaub, Cashmere, and Iskardo, published by Arrowsmith
in 1847. George sent me two of them. They are the best
published maps I have seen. As to the Euzofzai fever, that
is, I am happy to say, now over. It was terrible while it
lasted. Between the 1st March and the 15th June, 1853, 8,352
persons died out of a population of 53,500. It was very
similar to typhus, but had some symptoms of yellow fever. It
was confined to natives. It appeared to be contagious or
infectious, but I am so entirely skeptical as to the
existence of either contagion or infection in these Indian
complaints, that I cannot bring myself to believe that the
appearances were real.

Poor Colonel Mackison, the Commissioner at Peshawur, (the
chief civil and political officer for the frontier), was
stabbed, a few days ago, by a fanatic, while sitting in his
veranda reading. The fellow was from Swat, and said he had
heard that we were going to invade his country, and that he
would try to stop it, and go to heaven as a martyr for the
faith. Poor Mackison is still alive, but in a very
precarious state, I fear. I hope this may induce Government
to take strong measures with the hill-tribes.

He had soon to mourn the loss of a still more valued friend:--

_Oct. 15th, 1853_.

You will have been much shocked at hearing of poor dear Mr.
Thomason's death.

It is an irreparable loss to his family and friends, but it
will be even more felt in his public capacity. He had not
been ill, but died from sheer debility and exhaustion,
produced by overwork and application in the trying season
just over. Had he gone to the hills, all would have been
right. I cannot but think that he sacrificed himself as an
example to others. You may imagine how much I have felt the
loss of my earliest and best friend in India, to whom I was
accustomed to detail all my proceedings, and whom I was wont
to consult in every difficulty and doubt.

On the 2d November he wrote from Rawul Pindee to announce the birth of a daughter. He had been obliged previously to return to his duties; but, by riding hard all night, had been able to be with his wife at the time, and, after greeting the little stranger, had immediately to hasten back to his Guides on the frontier.

The Government, with a view to secure the Kohat Pass, were now preparing an expedition against the refractory tribe of the Borees, one of the bravest and wildest of the Affghan race, in order to prove that their hills and valleys were accessible to our troops.

Accordingly, a force consisting of 400 men of her Majesty's 22d, 450 Goorkhas, 450 Guides, and the mountain train, marched at 4 A.M. on the morning of the 29th November, under the command of Brigadier Boileau, to attack the villages in the Boree valley.

I must supply the loss of my brothers own account by a letter from an officer with the expedition:--

"Our party, after crossing the hills between Kundao and the
main Affreedee range at two points, reunited in the valley
at 10.30 A.M., and with the villages of the Borees before us
at the foot of some precipitous crags. These it at once
became apparent must be carried before the villages could be
attacked and destroyed. The service devolved on two
detachments of the Goorkhas and Guides, commanded by
Lieutenants Hodson and Turner, and the style in which these
gallant fellows did their work, and drove the enemy from
crag to rock and rock to crag, and finally kept them at bay
from 11 A. M. to 3 P. M., was the admiration of the whole
force. We could plainly see the onslaught, especially a
fierce struggle that lasted a whole hour, for the possession
of a breastwork, which appeared inaccessible from below, but
was ultimately carried by the Guides, in the face of the
determined opposition of the Affreedees, who fought for
every inch of ground.

"Depend upon it, this crowning of the Boree heights was one
of the finest pieces of light infantry performance on
record. It was, moreover, one which Avitabile, with 10,000
Sikhs, was unable to accomplish. During these operations on
the hill, the villages were burnt, and it was only the want
of powder which prevented the succession of towers which
flanked them being blown into the air. The object of the
expedition having been thus fully achieved, the skirmishers
were recalled at about three, and then the difficulties of
the detachment commenced; for, as is well known, the
Affghans are familiar with the art of following, though they
will rarely meet an enemy. The withdrawal of the Guides and
Goorkhas from the heights was most exciting, and none but
the best officers and the best men could have achieved this
duty with such complete success. Lieutenant Hodson's tactics
were of the most brilliant description, and the whole force
having been once more reunited in the plain, they marched
out of the valley by the Turoonee Pass, which, though
farthest from the British camp, was the shortest to the
outer plains. The force did not return to camp till between
ten and eleven at night, having been out nearly eighteen
hours, many of the men without food, and almost all without
water, the small supply which had been carried out having
soon been exhausted, and none being procurable at Boree.

"Not an officer of the detachment was touched, and only
eight men killed and twenty-four wounded. When the force
first entered the valley, there were not more than 200
Borees in arms to resist; but before they returned, the
number had increased to some 3,000,--tens and twenties
pouring in all the morning from all the villages and hamlets
within many miles, intelligence of the attack being conveyed
to them by the firing."

My brother's services on this occasion were thus acknowledged by the Brigadier commanding, Colonel Boileau, her Majesty's 22d Regiment, in a despatch dated Nov. 29th, 1853:--

"To the admirable conduct of Lieutenant Hodson in
reconnoitring, in the skilful disposition of his men, and
the daring gallantry with which he led his fine Corps in
every advance, most of our success is due; for the safety of
the whole force while in the valley of the Tillah depended
on his holding his position, and I had justly every
confidence in his vigilance and valor.

(Signed)
"J. B. BOILEAU,

"_Brigadier Commanding the Force
at Boree_."

"To Lieutenant W. S. R. Hodson, I beg you will express my
particular thanks for the great service he rendered the
force under your command, by his ever gallant conduct, which
has fully sustained the reputation he has so justly acquired
for courage, coolness, and determination.

(Signed)
"W. M. GOMM,

"_Commander-in-Chief_."

Before Christmas, to his great delight, he was joined in camp by his wife and child. The following letters bring out still more prominently the tender loving side of his character, both as a father and a son:--

_To his Father._

CAMP, MURDAN, EUZOFZAI, _Jan. 2d, 1854_.

I have been sadly long in answering your last most welcome
letter, but I have been so terribly driven from pillar to
post, that I have always been unable to sit down at the
proper time. My long holiday with dear Susie, and
journeyings to and fro to see her at Murree, and our short
campaign against the Affreedees in November, threw me into a
sea of arrears which was terrible to contemplate, and still
worse to escape from. I am now working all day and half the
night, and cannot as yet make much impression on them.

I wish you could see your little grand-daughter being nursed
by a rough-looking Affghan soldier or bearded Sikh, and
beginning life so early as a dweller in tents. She was
christened by Mr. Clarke, one of the Church Missionaries who
happened to be in Peshawur. The chaplain, who ought to have
been there, was amusing himself somewhere, and we could not
catch a spare parson for a fortnight.

You evidently do not appreciate the state of things in these
provinces. There are but two churches in the Punjaub; and
there will be an electric telegraph to Peshawur before a
church is commenced there, though the station has been one
for four years. In the first season, a large Roman Catholic
Chapel was built there, and an Italian priest from the
Propaganda busy in his vocation. I offered Mr. C. all the
aid in my power, though I told him candidly that I thought
he had not much chance of success here. A large sum has been
raised at Peshawur for the Mission, but unfortunately they
have gone wild with theories about the lost tribes and
fulfilment of prophecies respecting the Jews, which has
given a somewhat visionary character to their plans. Mr. C.
wanted me to think that these Euzofzai Pathans were
Ben-i-Israel, and asked me whether I had heard them call
themselves so; and he was aghast when I said they were as
likely to talk of Ben d'Israeli. All I can say is, that if
they be "lost tribes," I only wish they would find out a
home somewhere else among their cousins, and give me less
trouble.... My second in command was stabbed in the back by
a fanatic the other day while on parade, and has had a
wonderful escape for his life.

You would so delight in your little grand-daughter. She is a
lovely good little darling; as happy as possible, and
wonderfully quick and intelligent for her months. I would
give worlds to be able to run home and see you, and show you
my child, but I fear much that, unless I find a "nugget," it
is vain to hope for so much pleasure just now. Meantime, I
have every blessing a man can hope for, and not the least
is that of your fond and much prized affection.

A few months later, again apologizing for long silence, he says:--

_May 1st._

In addition to the very onerous command of 876 wild men and
300 wild horses, and the charge of the civil administration
of a district almost as lawless as Tipperary, I have had to
build, and superintend the building of, a fort to give cover
to the said men and horses, including also within its walls
three houses for English officers, a police station, and a
native collector's office. He who builds in India builds not
in the comfortable acceptation of the term which obtains at
home. He sends not for his Barry or his Basevi; calls not
for a design and specifications, and then beholds his house,
and pays his bill; but he builds as Noah may have built the
Ark.

Down to the minutest detail of carpentry, smithery, and
masonry, and of "muddery," too, for that matter, he must
know what he is about, and show others what to do, or
good-bye to his hopes for a house.

Altogether, I am often fourteen hours a day at hard work,
and obliged to listen for a still longer period.

Our poor little darling had a very severe attack of fever
the other day, but is now well again, and getting strong. I
never see her without wishing that she was in her
grandfather's arms. You would so delight in her little baby
tricks and ways. She is the very delight of our lives, and
we look forward with intense interest to her beginning to
talk and crawl about. Both she and her dear mother will have
to leave for the hills very soon, I am sorry to say. We try
to put off the evil day, but I dare not expose either of my
treasures to the heat of Euzofzai or Peshawur for the next
three months.... The young lady already begins to show a
singularity of taste,--refusing to go to the arms of any
native women, and decidedly preferring the male population,
some of whom are distinguished by her special favor. Her own
orderly, save the mark, never tires of looking at her
"beautiful white fingers," nor she of twisting them into his
black beard,--an insult to an Oriental, which he bears with
an equanimity equal to his fondness for her. The cunning
fellows have begun to make use of her too, and when they
want anything, ask the favor in the name of Lilli Baba (they
cannot manage "Olivia" at all). They know the spell is
potent.

The following letters from his wife's pen give a lively picture of "domestic" life in the wilderness, and of the wilderness itself:--

"_January, 1854._

"Picture to yourself an immense plain, flat as a billiard
table, but not as green, with here and there a dotting of
camel thorn about eighteen inches high, by way of
vegetation. This far as the eye can reach on the east, west,
and south of us, but on the north the lasting snows of the
mighty Himalaya glitter and sparkle like a rosy diadem above
the lower range, which is close to our camp. What would you
say to life in such a wilderness? or how would you stare to
see the officers sit down to table with sword and pistol?
The baby never goes for an airing without a guard of armed
horsemen; what a sensation such a cortege would create in
Hyde Park!"

* * * * *

"_April 15th._

"You ask for some detail of our life out here, and the
history of one day will be a picture of every one, with
little variation.

"At the first bugle, soon after daylight, W. gets up and
goes to parade, and from thence to superintend the
proceedings at the fort.

"By nine o'clock we are both ready for breakfast, after
which W. disappears into his business tent, where he
receives regimental reports, examines recruits, whether men
or horses, superintends stores and equipments, hears
complaints, and settles disputes, &c. &c. The regimental
business first dispatched, then comes 'kutcherry,' or civil
court matters, receiving petitions, adjusting claims, with a
still longer &c. You may have some small idea of the amount
of this work, when I tell you that during the month of March
he disposed of twenty-one serious criminal cases, such as
murder, and 'wounding with intent,' and nearly 300 charges
of felony, larceny, &c. At two o'clock he comes in for a
look at his bairn, and a glass of wine. Soon after five a
cup of tea, and then we order the horses, and in the saddle
till nearly eight, when I go with him again to the fort, the
garden, and the roads, diverging occasionally to fix the
site of a new village, a well, or a watercourse.

"You can understand something of the delight of galloping
over the almost boundless plain in the cool, fresh air, (for
the mornings and evenings are still lovely,) with the ground
now enamelled with sweet-scented flowers, and the
magnificent mountains nearest us assuming every possible hue
which light and shadow can bestow. On our return to camp, W.
hears more reports till dinner, which is sometimes shared
by the other officers, or chance guests.

"When we are alone, as soon as dinner is over, the letters
which have arrived in the evening are examined, classified,
and descanted on, sometimes answered; and I receive my
instructions for next day's work in copying papers,
answering letters, &c. And now do you not think that prayers
and bed are the fitting and well-earned ending to the labors
of the day?

"When you remember, too, that, in building the fort, roads,
and bridges, W. has to make his bricks and burn them, to
search for his timber and fell it, you will not deny that
his hands are full enough; but in addition, he has to search
for workmen, and when brought here, to procure them food and
means of cooking it. Some are Mussulmans and eat meat, which
must be killed and cooked by their own people. Some are
Hindoos, who only feed on grain and vegetables, but every
single man must have his own chula or fireplace, with an
inclosure for him and his utensils, and if by chance any
foot but his own overstep his little mud wall, he will
neither eat nor work till another sun has arisen. Then some
smoke, while others hold it in abhorrence; some only drink
water, others must have spirits; so that it is no easy
matter to arrange the conflicting wants of some 1,100
laborers. I shall be very thankful when this Murdan Kote is
finished, for it will relieve my poor husband of half his
labor and anxiety.

"By way of variety, we have native sports on great
holidays,--such as throwing the spear at a mark, or
'Nazabaze,' which is, fixing a stake of twelve or eighteen
inches into the ground, which must be taken up on the
spear's point while passing it at full gallop, or putting
an orange on the top of a bamboo a yard high, and cutting
it through with a sword at full speed. W. is very clever at
this, rarely failing, but the spears are too long for any
but a lithe native to wield without risking a broken arm.
The scene is most picturesque;--the flying horsemen in their
flowing many-colored garments, and the grouping of the
lookers-on, make me more than ever regret not having a ready
pencil-power to put them on paper.

"The weather has been particularly unfavorable to the
progress of the fort, so that we are still in our temporary
hut and tents. Of course we feel the heat much more, so
domiciled. W. is grievously overworked, still his health is
wonderfully good, and his spirits as wild as if he were a
boy again. He is never so well pleased as when he has the
baby in his arms."

* * * * *

ATTOK, _June 9th, 1854_.

... We are so far on the way to Murree, and here, I grieve
to say, we part for the next three months. I hope to rejoin
them for a month in September, and accompany them back to
our new home, for by that time I trust that my fortified
cantonment will be ready, and our house too. This said fort
has been a burden and a stumbling-block to me for months,
and added grievously to my work, as I am sole architect. It
is built regularly, but of earthworks and mud, and as it
covers an area of twelve acres, you may believe that it has
been no slight task to superintend its construction. It is a
sad necessity, and the curse of Indian life, this repeatedly
recurring separation, but anything is better than to see the
dear ones suffer. I am fortunately very well, and as yet
untouched by the unusual virulence with which the hot
weather has commenced this year.

* * * * *

_To his Father._

MURREE, _July 17th, 1854_.

I was summoned from Euzofzai to these hills, on the 26th
June, by the tidings of the dangerous illness of our sweet
baby. I found her in a sinking state, and though she was
spared to us for another fortnight of deep anxiety and great
wretchedness, there was, from the time I arrived, scarcely a
hope of her recovery. Slowly and by imperceptible degrees
her little life wasted away until, early on the morning of
the 10th, she breathed her soul away, so gently that those
watching her intently were conscious of no change. The deep
agony of this bereavement I have no words to describe. We
had watched her growth, and prided ourselves on her
development with such absorbing interest and joy; and she
had so won our hearts by her extreme sweetness and most
unusual intelligence, that she had become the very centre
and light of our home life, and in losing her we seem to
have lost everything. Her poor mother is sadly bowed down by
this great grief, and has suffered terribly both in health
and spirits.

I have got permission to remain with her a few days, but I
must return to my duty before the end of the month.

We had the best and kindest of medical advice, and
everything, I believe, which skill could do was tried, but
in vain. She was lent to us to be our joy and comfort for a
time, and was taken from us again, and the blank she has
left behind is great indeed.

I dare not take Susie down with me, much as she wishes it,
at this season, and in her state of health. I must therefore
leave her here till October. It is very sad work to part
again under these circumstances, but in this wretched
country there is no help for us. Your kind and affectionate
expressions about our little darling, and your keen
appreciation of the "unfailing source of comfort and
refreshment she was to my wearied spirit," came to me just
as I had ceased to hope for the precious babe's life.

... It has been a very, very bitter blow to us. She had
wound her little being round our hearts to an extent which
we neither of us knew until we woke from the brief dream of
beauty, and found ourselves childless.

* * * * *

CAMP, MURDAN, _Sept. 17th, 1854_.

I am alone now, having none of my officers here save the
doctor. But the border is quiet, and except a great deal of
crime and villany, I have not any great difficulties to
contend with. My new fort to hold the regiment and protect
the frontier is nearly finished, and my new house therein
will be habitable before my wife comes down from Murree. So
after two years and a quarter of camp and hutting, I shall
enjoy the luxury of a room and the dignity of a house.

* * * * *

FORT, MURDAN, _Oct. 31st, 1854_.

I can give better accounts of our own state than for many a
long day. Dear Susie is much better than for a year past,
and gaining strength daily, and I am as well as possible. We
are now in our new house in this fort, which has caused me
so much labor and anxiety; and I assure you, a most
comfortable dwelling we find it. Our houses (I mean the
European officers') project from the general front of the
works at the angles of the bastions, and are quite private,
and away from the noisy soldiers; and we have, for India, a
very pretty view of the hills and plains around us. Above
all, the place seems a very healthy one. To your eye, fresh
from England, it would appear desolate from its solitude and
oppressive from the vastness of the scale of scene. A wide
plain, without a break or a tree, thirty miles long, by
fifteen to twenty miles wide, forms our immediate foreground
on one side, and an endless mass of mountains on the other.

We have just heard by telegraph of the engagement at Alma,
but only a brief electric shock of a message, without
details. We are in an age of wonders. Ten months ago, there
was not a telegraph in Hindostan, yet the news which reached
Bombay on the 27th of this month, was printed at Lahore,
1,200 miles from the coast, that same afternoon.

* * * * *

MURDAN, _Nov. 16th, 1854_.

As yet, we have only felt the surging of the storm which
convulses Eastern Europe. The only palpable sign of the
effects of Russian intrigue which we have had, has been the
commencement of negotiation with the Dost Mahomed Khan, of
Cabul, who, under the pressure from without, has been fain
to seek for alliance and aid from us. Nothing is yet known
of his demands, or the intentions of Government, but one
thing is certain, that the commencement of negotiations
with us, is the beginning of evil days for Affghanistan.

In India, we must either keep altogether aloof or absorb.
All our history shows that sooner or later connection with
us is political death. The sunshine is not more fatal to a
dew-drop than our friendship or alliance to an Asiatic
Kingdom.

FOOTNOTE:

[15] No two troops or companies were of the same race, in order to prevent the possibility of combination. One company was composed of Sikhs, another of Affreedees, others of Pathans, Goorkhas, Punjaubee Mahomedans, &c., with native officers, in each case, of a different race from the men.