mLM'' .^-4 , .V / fC. ^^ ^. «f . >i ^. ? -'^■v. 4 > r^ i: L I E) R^AI^Y OF THE U N IVLRSITY or ILLINOIS 82.3 Wl55^f v.\ NOTICE: Return or renew al) Library Materialsl The Minimum Fee for each Lost Book is $50.00. The person charging this material is responsible for its return to the library from which it was withdrawn on or before the Latest Date stamped below. Theft, mutilation, and underlining of books are reasons for discipli- nary action and may result in dismissal from the University. To renew call Telephone Center, 333-8400 UNIVERSITY OF ILLINOIS LIBRARY AT URBANA-CHAMPAIGN JAil 2 1991 L161— O-1096 Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2010 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign http://www.archive.org/details/fortyyearsinworl01wall FORTY YEARS IN THE WORLD. PRINTED BY COX AND BAYLIS, GREAT QUEEN-STREET. FORTY YEARS IN THE WORLD; SKETCHES AND TALES OP B Solirirr^ flifr. THE AUTHOR OF '' FIFTEEN YEARS IN INDIA," " MEMOIRS OF INDIA," <^c. I'c. 4'-c. " I have song of war for Knight, Lay of love for Lady bright." SCOTT. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. I. LONDON: PRINTED FOR GEO. B. WHITTAKER, AVE-MARIA LANE. 1825. TO ROSS THOMPSON, Esq GREENWOOD PARK, NEAR NEWRY AS A SMALL BUT SINCERE TOKEN ESTEEM FOR HIS WORTH, GRATITUDE FOR HIS FRIENDSHIP, "^ AFFECTION FOR HIS AMIABLE FAMILY, *t THIS PRODUCTION IS INSC&IBKO, 2 WITH THE GREATEST RESPECT, C Q ' V M BY THE AUTHOR. L / I N r R O D U C T I O N. The Author of " Fifteen Years in India" is very grateful to the Public for the reception which that work has experienced. He would have acknowledged his deep sense of British liberality, in the preface to his Memoirs of India ; but it was not his intention so soon to claim his anonymous production: his publishers, however, having an- nounced him in its title-page, by name, as the writer of " P'ifteen Years in India," he avails him- self of this first opportunity. A rap at my door interrupted me. " My dear Charles," exclaimed I, " how rejoiced I am to see you ! I have commenced another volume. Your judgment guided me in my first attempt; it was very successful, and I am, therefore, disposed to prefer your opinion to my own. What do you Vlll INTRODUCTION. think of the probable success of this?" and I handed him my manuscript. The reader will perhaps recollect, or at least he should be told, that my friend, Charles Thought- less, had given me such advice respecting the composition of my " Fifteen Years in India," that the whole impression was circulated in a month. I, therefore, watched very earnestly the turn of his countenance, and waited anxiously for the sound of his voice. " Believe me," said he, at length, " I think your conception a good one ; but it requires a long time to mature a treatise on the art of medi- tation, and you propose publishing next winter. Such an embryo will not be fit for the public eve in less time than three years. Hurry of composi- tion is incompatible with felicity of thought and elegance of style. Recollect the precept of Horace, Saape stylnm vertas, itei um quae digna legi sint Scripturus r Sat. 10, Lib. 1. " Many corrections are necessary in approaching^ I N T R O D U C T I O N. IX even mediocrity as an author. The diamond in the mine has to be cleaned and polished ; so has every gem found in human intellect, before its beauty fully appears. Like the brilliant set in gold, so is good sense in appropriate phrase." He paused. I was mute ; but my countenance said, " Youi* words, Charles, are pregnant with truth and justness." " My advice is this," continued he ; " attempt an amusing narrative^ work, from the various eye and ear sketches, which our portfolios contain. Being in the fortieth year of our age, such a coir lection might be appositely entitled ' Forty Years in the World;' for it will comprize many of our observations on men and things ; but I leave you at liberty to give the bantling whatever name you please." Thus, reader, you have the history of this book ; and in submitting it to your perusal, I sincerely and earnestly hope" it will afford you delight and profit. I beg to remark, that those who have been pleased with Sketches of a Soldier's Life, in X INTRODUCTION. " Fifteen Years in India," will find in this work a continuation of those papers : for it describes such incidents in the life of my friend as are not recorded in the former ; completing an actual Sketch of the Life of a Soldier, a friendless ad- venturer, who had to struggle with many and great difficulties. » To public judgment it is now submitted, with fear and hope ; and should it be pronounced wor- thy of Virtue and Christianity, the most sincere pleasure v/ill be felt by its author. The wisdom, candour, forbearance, charity, obedience, and humility, which should dignify age, and ornament youth, I have recommended; for, " It seems it is as proper to our age To cast beyond ourselves in our opinions, As it is common for tlie younger sort To lack discretion." SHAKS^EAivf. CONTENTS OF VOL. I. Page Intruduction , vii Early Recollections 1 The Youmg Soldier 17 The Passage Out 53 The Young Officer 117 Calcutta , 147 India 165 Superstition in India 186 Commanding Officers 195 The Governor's Ball 201 The Veil.-Part 1 235 The Veil— Part II 263 Idleness and Industry 283 The Vow 295 FORTY YEARS IN THE WORLD; OR, W. I. EARLY RECOLLECTIONS. Remembrance wakes with all her busy train, Swells at my breast, and turns the past to pain. GOLDSMITH. When I was about five years old, I lost my mother. She was the only child of Captain Whitehead, an English officer serving in the army in Ireland, who died soon after her birth, leaving his widow and infant in Dublin, on the pension of his rank. Mrs. Whitehead, who was a native of Dublin, educated her daughter carefully ; and my father, a young attorney, fell in love with and married VOL. I. B 4 FORTY YEARS my stepmother's fortune, and my father's inheri- tance, were swallowed up by the creditors of the late firm, he ultimately sank under the pressure of debt ; and, leaving his wife and her only daughter with his father-in-law, whilst I, much to my satisfaction, returned to my gi^andmother, he crossed the Atlantic, to seek fortune in America, I was, at this melancholy period, about eleven years old : yet, really, I did not feel it a melan- choly time; for I had taken a hearty dislike to my stepmother. She was a wealthy farmer's daughter; a black-haired, heavy eye-browed, good-looking woman ; but I thought she alwaj's wore an ugly scowl when her eye rested on me. It is nearly superhuman to love those who hate us : perhaps, if I had loved her, she would have repaid me with affection. Stepmothers are gene- rally blamed: but, is it not quite natural for them to love their own children best ? Stepsons make no allowances, and they often create maternal hatred, by cherishing unfavourable feelings them- selves. Surely, if it be true, that love, like friend- ship, holds no " cold medium," the woman who really loves the man she marries, must find her IN THE WORLD. 5 heart predisposed to love whateyer is dear to him. I gave my grandmother, however, full credit for treating me with perfect affection ; I was her pet : she regarded me as all that was left of an unfor- tunate son. With this dear old lady I might have remained, had I not possessed a restless mind. Providence has placed a peculiarly roving disposition in some hearts. My imagination con- jured up ten thousand pictures of the future ; and, like Wortley Montague, I panted for adven- ture. It cost me, however, many a tear, to think of leaving the dear old lady, whose tenderness had completely won the affections of my heart ; but I was now in the fifteenth year of my age, and I often reflected upon my dependent situation. The narrow circumstances of my grandmother and her son, who managed her concerns, I well knew : indeed, he had sometimes hurt my pride, by throwing out hints that I was a burthen on him, and that my father's folly had ruined his family; yet, I owe him the justice to say that he was, in general, an affectionate uncle; though, b3 6 FORTY YEARS like his father, a tall, thin, passionate man; and, when angry, he used both his words and hands without respecting thought. He considered me, yery justly I believe, a useless sort of a genius. These circumstances had entered deeply into my mind. I had read the adventures of Captain Robert Boyle, and I longed to imitate him. My lively imagination painted the joy with which my return would be hailed : I was full of my project. —In my reveries, I often laughed and wept aloud, vmmindful of being an object of observa- tion. Indeed, my grandmother at length dis- covered the state of my mind, by questioning me closely respecting the cause of my tears. I repre- sented that I wept at the thoughts of leaving her; having determined to go and push my fortune, and be no longer a trouble to her in old age, when she had far from enough to make her comfort- able. " I shall soon return," said I, kissing her, "with plenty to cheer you." She shed tears on my face, and, embracing me, said, "My darling. He who provides a parent for the cuckooes forsaken egg, wiU take care^ of you. We have plenty. IN THE WORLD. God's holy name be praised. It is not great wealth, but an humble and contented heart, which gives happiness in this world." A whipping, which I received from my uncle a short time after, overturned all my grandmo- ther's wise admonitions. I determined never to receive another like it from the same hand; and that very night, with a wallet, containing my little wardrobe, and a flute, upon which I had learned to make a noise, I sallied forth on the road to Dublin. Many a tear trickled down my cheek, as I looked back on the peaceful thatched roof, shaded with trees, beneath which my grandmother slept: the moon stood in silvery beauty over it. Now that I was going to leave it, many a charm arose to my view which I had not before observed. An indescribable melancholy took possession of my soul; but I slowly removed from the scene. Alas ! there is much selfishness even in our sor- rows : I did not see the tears, through my own, that would jewel my poor grandmother's eyes, when she could no longer behold her favourite ; B 4 8 FORTY YEARS nor was I then conscious of the thought which Barton has most beautifully expressed : — No more shall the accents, whose tones were more dear Than the sweetest of sounds even music can make. In notes full of tenderness, fall on my ear; If I catch them in dreams, all is still when I wakef Most dear old lady! it was not my lot to see thee again, but in dreams ; yet my heart has often felt thy spirit watching me ; for well I know thy love for me was a mother's love ! Nay, it went beyond — it had all the fondness of dotage. He who takes a long farewell of his home, suf- fers all the regrets of an exile ; and, when he re- turns to it after long absence, he has much grief in store. How this thought should bind one to the scenes of boyhood! I had to pass Kitty's door ; she was the rose-bud of early hope to me ; and I thought all about her that a boy could think. "Thou art asleep, Kitty, or, perhaps, thinking of me," said I, as I bent over the gate, looking at her window; "may angels hover round thy bed ! If it be our lot never to meet again, may happiness be thine, whatever becomes of IN THE WORLD. me !" I had also to pass the school of Magher- nahaly, and its play-ground; the scene of many a merry gambol. They were sleeping delight- fully in the moonlight; but my imagination en- livened them with all the associations of memory. Farewell 1 said I, as I dropped a tear over the spot which was often afterwards to rise the morn- ing-star of my anxious thoughts ; and forward I pursued my course. Early next morning I reached Dundalk, through the mountains of Jonesborough ; and, taking a seat on the top of the Newry Fly, I ar- rived, that evening, in the city which had given me birth. My pocket not being heavy in cash, I lost no time in inquiring my way to my father's former residence; and, rapping at the door, made no doubt of seeing my grandmother and aunt in raptures at my arrival : but what was my sur- prise, when I was informed that no such persons resided in that neighbourhood! I traversed all the street? adjoining, stopping people whom I met, and knocking at doors, to inquire for Mrs. Whitehead, but all in vain. Some diverted themselves with my confusion ; others wrongly b5 10 FORTY YEARS directed me; and, at last, a wag sent me to Bolton-street, saying, — " I know Mrs. AMiitehead well." On arriving there, I found a white-head indeed, but it was the head of an old woman, that father Time had silvered. She kept a little shop, and a smile played on her face when she disco- vered how I had been used. " They have been making merry," said Mrs. M'Grah, *' at your expense and mine ; but, perhaps, you could not have been directed better. I know a Mrs. White- head, whose daughter was married to a lawj-er." " The very one I am in search of," answered I : "how fortunate ! I am her grandson !" From Mrs. M'Grah I learned, that, after my father's misfortunes, my grandmother had re- moved with her sister to Temple-bar; having married Mr. Hughes, who kept a grocer's shop there. He soon died; and, as his widow had lost her pension, as Captain Whitehead's relict, by changing her name, she was under the ne- cessity of continuing the business of her. late liusband. Next morning, very early, I rapped at Mrs. Hughes's door for admission. " It is too early IN THE WORLD. 11 to open shop," said one of her neighbours ; *^ if you want any thing, go up that passage, and knock at the first door," I did so, and, at last, heard a voice interrogating, in a tone famihar to my memory: — "Who is that? What do you want so early?" — " Oh !" said I, " it is your grandson, come all the way from the north to see you." The door opened. " Come in," said my grandmother ; " I am glad to see you ;" and, shutting the door, she held me at arm's length towards the v, indow, to identify me, before she gave the welcome hug. " Peggy," said she, " it is certainly our little pet; but much altered for the worse." — '" Mercy upon us !" cried my aunt, com- ing with a cough from her bed half dressed, " can this be he? Oh ! it is !" and she nearly suffocated me with kisses, not of the most savoury descrip- tion. I had very little recollection of these two per- sonages, and I looked at both of them with keen eyes. My grandmother's visage was a fine sharp one, with the traces of beauty still lingering upon it. Her sister Peggy was an asthmatic subject, with a shrivelled-up, sour face, like parchment. " With whom did you come to town ?" said my B 6 12 FORTY YEARS grandmother, "where do you lodge? and how long are you to remain here ?" — " I came alone," answered I, " to push my fortune." I thought my intelligence would have pleased them; but it threw my aunt into a violent fit of coughing, and lengthened my grandmother's fnrce prodigiously. In short, I saw several looks of dissatisfaction pass between the ladies ; and, indeed, they soon inti- mated to me that it was with difficulty they sup- ported themselves : I saw that their circumstances were not very flourishing. They drew upon their slender means, however, gave me a city-like ap- pearance, and employed me in keeping the shop- book, and carrying cash, for orders, to the ware- houses; but, not finding me very expert, they made an attempt to transfer me to their brotlier, who had a brewery in Dublin. I accordingly waited upon Mr. Percival with a letter of introduction ; and, having been ad- mitted into his splendid mansion, delivered my credentials into his own hands. He made me known to his family as a relation ; and I was en- tertained so much to my satisfaction, that I did not fail to return frequently : but, one day, as the dinner-hour was approaching, I was informed IN THE WORLD. 13 that Counsellor Curran was to dine there, and so 1 was requested to go home. This I considered so unhandsome, that I determined never more to enter the brewer's doors, and accordingly pro- tested as much to my grandmother ; who, finding her hopes blasted in that quarter, pressed me to return to the country, and, upon my refusal, threatened to write to my uncle immediately. Fearful of this, I found it necessary to push my fortune elsewhere, and left my grandmother's house for that purpose. My intention was to go to sea, in imitation of Captain Robert Boyle ; and, after a long search, I discovered that the captain of the Hannah, a sloop, belonging to Liverpool, wanted a lad who could write a fair hand and state an account : he liked my appearance, and invited me on board. I informed my grandmother, with a merry heart, that I was ready to leave her ; and, as she thought I had made up my mind to return to the country, I received her praises, and a gui- nea to bear my expenses. The crew on board the Hannah consisted of four men and a boy, besides me. They lived 14 FORTY YEARS well; and the captain gave me a berth in the cabin. But I soon found a most dangerous enemy in the other boy, Tom, who became exceedingly jealous, thinking I had supplanted him ; for he considered himself sufficiently qualified to keep the captain's books, though he could scarcely write a legible word, and had, in fact, officiated as clerk heretofore, being by far a better scribe than his commander. This blade wished to have me out of his way, and he soon succeeded. It happened thus : — As soon as my messmates discovered that I had a guinea, they insisted on being treated, accord- ing to custom ; and Tom was despatched for a can of whiskey, with which, out of seeming love, he plied me so violently, that I became as drunk as any toper, and was carried to bed. When the captain came on board, Tom seized a favourable moment, and pointed me out to him ; with an insinuation that, young as I was, I could take a drop in style. Next mOrning I was thirsty ; and, going to get some water, I found a tin pot on the cabin-table, nearly full, as I thought, of that most precious beverage; but, just IN THE WORLD. 15 as I was putting it to my parched lips, I felt my- self seized by the throat, and heard Tom exclaim- ing — " What I you thief! will nought but our master's gin serve thee ?" Nothing I could say availed ; I and my wallet were sent adrift. Ah ! thought I, when wandering about, friend- less, and almost in despair, it was easy and plea- sant for me, under my kind grandmother's roof in the country, to think of pushing my fortune ; but I now find the truth of all she told me. God forgive me, disobedient wretch that I am ! What will become of me ! ( 1^ ) N^ II. THE YOUNG SOLDIER. Ye'll try the world soon, rny lad, And, Charley, dear, believe me, Ye'll find mankind an unco squad, And muckle they may grieve ye. BURNS. To my grandmother 1 could not return: shame, pride, and fear, prevented my thoughts from travelhng northward. My perplexity was, no doubt, strongly painted on my countenance, for I attracted the attention of a recruiting cor- poral, who persuaded me to try my fortune in his Majesty's service. I was taken by him to Captain Olpherts, and soon qualified for a red coat. I was deeply affected by the dignified appear- ance and generous conduct of the captain. He represented to me the rash step I was about to 18 FORTY YEARS take, and advised me to reflect well, before I bound myself to a course of life which might occasion great uneasiness to my friends ; " for," said he, " I suspect you have run aw^ay from your parents. Think of their anguish, and return : I will give you wherewith to bear your expenses, or support you here, till we apprize them of your situation." However, when I represented my forlorn state, he 'agreed that I had as good a chance in the army, as in any other course of life. What a lively impression benevolent conduct makes on the heart of man ! Captain Olpherts was blown up by the explosion of a mine, together with a great part of the grenadier company of the 59th regiment, at Fort Cornelius, on the island of Java, when it was taken in 1811. Fourteen years have rolled away since that period, and more than two-and-twenty have passed down the stream of time smce I received many kind atten- tions from him and his lovely lady, in Dublin ; yet a tear often starts to my eye when I remem- ber his anxious w^ish to serve a friendless boy, such as I then was. IN THE WORLD. 19 Dear to my heart, yet full of pain, Is every thought I turn to thee ; While Memory can look back, my brain Will picture oft thy form to me. No tardy torments rack'd thy frame I Urg'd forward by thy noble soul, Thou rush'd'st along the road to fame. And Valour saw thee reach the goal. Proud Victory claimed thee as her child ; Thou heard'st applauses rend the skies ; And on the wings of thunder wild, Thy comrades viewed thy spirit rise. Our party of recruits were in depot on Roger- son's Quay, and a serjeant, fairly nick-named Takeall, was appointed to escort us to the Isle of Wight. He supplied us with necessaries, and pocketed as much of our bounty and pay as he could ; turning our credulity and inexperience to his own good account, and that of his bustling wife, who furnished us with tea and other re- freshments. Serjeant Takeall was a middle-aged personage, whose keen and penetrating eyes expressed a cunning, sarcastic intelligence, and said to the beholder, if an inferior — " I think nothing of 20 JORTY YEARS you ;" if a superior — " 1 am your most humble servant." His wife had, as is often seen, the same expression of countenance as her husband, though her features were different; but her tongue was equal to his in powerful shrillness, and her eye, when inflamed with anger or the desire of gain, shot living fire. At length the morning of our departure ar- rived, and I cheered my companions, in our march to the Pigeon- House, with " Fare thee well, Killeavy," on my flute. Takeall was flou- rishing his cane on the pivot ; his wife was on the reverse with all her baggage. Full of hope, life, and whiskey, our party embarked on board a packet for Parkgate. Many a melancholy idea rose in my mind when I looked back on the shore of my native land ; but hope converted retrospection into the joy of grief. Our accom- modations on board were not of the most pleasing description, for a great part of the deck was occupied by carriages, while their horses were in the space below which belonged to us. Our party consisted of fifty wild Irish blades ; and, while they were disputing about room, the IN THE WORLD. 21 packet was cleaving the silvery waves of Dublin Bay. Her reeling motion soon communicated unsteadiness to us land's-men ; but night spread darkness over the scene. Next morning the bil- lows were making foamy dashes over the side of the vessel. During the night a gale had arisen, fearfully heavy; and the captain, at his helm, with all sails close-reefed, was exerting his utmost skill to keep the course: such, however, was the storm, that, with bare poles, at last, he was forced to fly before it; and in the afternoon, when the fury of the wind abated, we again saw the Hill of Howth. Fortunately, a favourable change enabled us to scud back at a flying rate. By this time our lads had pretty well recovered from sea-sickness. Many of them came on deck, clamorously calling on the serjeant for breakfast. He had kept a proportion of pay from each man, under the pretence of laying in sea-stock; but he depended entirely upon the packet for our pro- visions, and the captain did not very readily meet his requisition. We were at length furnished with an enormous dish of lobscouse, prepared bj the sailors, and set on the forecastle in a 22 FORTY YEAR S^ boiling state. As we had not been supplied with spoons, few of us had any ; and such was the eagerness of many to partake of the tempting dish, that hands were substituted for that utensil which cooking has rendered necessary. I was ashamed to be seen in the scramble, and stood aloof, amusing myself, like the cabin-passengers, in laughing at some of the lovers of lobscouse, whose wry faces and bent bodies, running away from the pot, announced that burning fingers re- warded their hot attack. My curiosity was kept so completely on the alert by all I saw and heard, that neither sick- ness 'hor hunger troubled me much. I gazed in astonishment on the wonders of the deep ; for I had never been at sea before, and a thousand new ideas arose in my mind respecting the sublime power of God, and the ingenuity of man, to which I had before been an utter stranger. It is true, I had often stood motionless and mute, in fixed contemplation of the ocean and the sky, in their calm, blue beauty, as well as when rage distorted their composure ; but it is impossible to feel the indescribable awfulness of a storm at sea, without IN THE WORLD. 23 l>eing ill it, and a partaker of all the associations of terror which it excites. We marched through Chester, Wrexham, Ells- more, Shrewsbury, Bridgenorth, Kidderminster, Worcester, Tewkesbury, Cheltenham, Cirencester, Swindon, Marlborough, Everly, Andover, Win- chester, and Southampton. In many of these towns we had battles and blood; every recruit had a shelalah. These terrible weapons they flourished round their heads, made giddy at public- houses as they passed, in the most furious manner, challenging whomsoever they met, nay whole cities, nay all England, to meet in single combat. The courageous young men turned out most readily to fight. I, who had seen but little of such work, was amazed. By the time we reached Shrewsbury, Takeall was astonished, and put in bodily fear. He found it expedient, in that city, to report his party in a state of mutiny. A guard of cavalry was granted to support him in autho- rity. I was the only one considered by him obedient to military discipline. I had crept into his good graces by making out his returns and reports, for he could merely show that he knew 24 FORTY YEARS how to write, by a curious flourish on a sort of pivot, that he called his name. All the others were disarmed, and marched by the troopers, with drawn swords, from Shrewsbury to Bridgenorth, where by due submission and a promise that no more shelalahs were to be carried, the Serjeant again took them into favour. After this, we pro- ceeded with little to call forth observation ; passed over in the ferry-boat from Southampton to Cowes, and soon found ourselves in the army depot. What gratitude swells my heart when I reflect on the goodness of God, in giving me a disposi- tion so different from those companions amongst whom fortune had thrown me ! If I had been pleased with their amusements or manners, I should have been lost; but I felt only disgust for them, and this feeling prevented me from falling into their vices. Instead of joining in their drinking and gaming, after our daily marches, I used to delight in wandering through the church-yards and reading the inscriptions on the tombs ; in admiring the striking objects of art and nature which presented themselves IN THE WORLD. 25 to my eye ; and in moralizing upon the characters, countenances, manners, and customs of the Welch and English people. The neatness of their houses, their cleanliness, industry, and steadiness ap- peared to me in pleasing forms, and made a most favourable and lasting impression on my understanding. The peasantry of England are a noble, brave, generous, and hospitable people. Prejudiced as they were against Irish recruits, their kindness of heart was often displayed. I have seen the farmer's wife applying her lenitives to the swelled foot, or broken head, of one of my comrades, and offering to his thirsty lips the cooling cup. Often would the gentleman ask us questions, as though he thought information might be found even in the refuse of his kind, or, as though he felt as Terence did, when one of the finest sentiments that ever was written flowed from his pen : — " Homo sum humani nil a me alienum puto." And, indeed, it is a similar sensation which in- duces me to dwell so long on adventures which most of my readers will, perhaps, think out of VOL. I. c 36 FORTY YEARS their sphere; but he who speculates upon the diversities of his fellow-creatures, will find a use- ful exercise for his faculties in contemplating the actions and manners of any set of men. It was in the summer of 1803 I arrived in that beautiful and romantic spot, the Isle of Wight, where I remained for about eighteen months. It has been observed, that every man's good opinion is useful : I found this verified in Serjeant Take- all ; for he spoke of me so favourably to the chief clerk in the Inspector-General's office, that I was chosen to fill a vacancy in it. I now belonged to a great establishment, and there was promotion sufficient before me to satisfy reasonable hope. The head of the office had pay nearly equal to that of a field-ofl&cer ; and he had under him several assistants, who were obedient in every respect. He was a very dapper fellow ; but his mouth made up for his want of magnitude in a bodily way. His abilities were equally surprizing ; for, in fact, he carried on the whole business of the recruiting service, the Inspector-General being entirely guided in all details by him. His utility, however, was often considered by himself IN T.HE "WORLD. 27 as a misfortune; for he used to charge it with impeding his promotion in the service. Like all great men, he was ambitious, and panted to throw .up his pay and allowances in the office, nearly equal, as I said, to those of a field-officer, for an ensigncy in a marching regiment. He had only the rank of serjeant in the army; but he disliked the title, and we were instructed to call him Mr. C r. I was placed under his first-assistant; and here I improved my hand-writing consider- ably, my business being to make rolls from attes- tations. My mind, however, was nearly station- ary, for I had little opportunity of improving my understanding at such drudgery. General Hewett was then at our head, but we seldom saw him, as he resided in London, and was busily employed with the army of reserve ; but his assistant. Co- lonel Carey, sometimes came down, and he was a gi'eat favourite with the office. C r used to call him Little Peter, and we, of course, followed his example. His ability and wit displayed them- selves in a thousand modes; and I once saw a caricature of his, representing Major Kent review- c 2 28 FORTY YEARS ing the Newport Volunteers, which was an inimi- table production. Major K. was naturally a very grotesque figure, and Colonel C.'s pencil had done full justice to his outline, the stature being unusually short, with a protuberance of paunch, nose, and chin, truly farcical. Yet he was only one of a group of curiosities, as to personal appearance, that often assembled' at our office. Colonel Barlow, the Deputy Inspector-General, was very tall, carbuncle-faced, and gouty. He used to limp forward to his place, in the morning circle, for news, exhibiting a contortion of countenance cor- responding with every twitch of gout he felt in his passage up the stairs. Captain Jarvis, his ad- jutant, a most worthy and excellent old gentle- man, was always full of duty, and in such a hurry, that he puffed in at all times quite out of breath, as though he had come post-haste to an- nounce the landing of Buonaparte. Captain Macintosh, the quarter-master, always advanced to his post with the caution of his country, making circuitous bows in his progress. Little Peter, though very fond of an innocent laugh at others IN THE WORLD. 29 for any oddity of body or face which nature had given them, was himself grinned at as one of the queer group; for he was of small stature, very thin figure, had French features, and animated expression. I should not mention these circum- stances but for the purpose of shewing that hu- man happiness is occasionally influenced by sucfc trifles. Many of the pleasurable ideas I enjoyed whilst in the office, were produced by internal smiles at unsolicited thoughts, which rambled through my brain as my eye feasted on these origi- nals, and wondered at all their sage conjectures respecting the projects of England and France, and with what bustling importance they acted their parts in the drama of life. My attestations were ofte>- left uncopied until after office-hours, that I might gaze on the scene before me. Although a copying-clerk cannot learn much at his desk, he may, by using his eyes and ears, see and hear enough to gratify reflection and amuse observation. I soon saw that men, like fishes, whcxi congregated, prey upon each other. What is the diflPerence ? thought I : men do not eat each other's bodies here; but our pay-serjeants feed c3 30 FORTY YEARS and live most gloriously on the substance of young recruits. See how their wives and children sport, like gaudy butterflies ! behold how their tables display the weight of their purses ! and mark how they all enjoy those pleasant waters, which are accused of stealing away men's brains, and wo- men's too, when admitted freely into the mouth! "^The quarter-master, I observed, had a barrack - room, as a store, well filled with necessaries : combs, brushes, stockings, heel-balls, and shirts enabled him to drink claret. There was also much to gratify curiosity in the private history of some of the soldiers at the depot: I learned the stories of their lives through their own loquacity, that inveterate propensity which we all have to talk of ourselves or of others: soldiers are particularly prone to this. Confi- dence is of speedy growth in the profession of aiins, for frankness is a strong feature of military character : vanity, one of the weeds that grow up with courage, leads men to recount what, in their estimation, should elevate them in the sight of others, or entitle them to sympathy under sus- tained misfortune. I shall, therefore, please such IN THE WORLD. 31, of my old fellows as may still draw the breath of life, and peruse these sketches, by giving publi- city to particulars which they were so ready to reveal ; particulars which, I trust, will not prove unamusing to the reader. FRANCIS C R. Francis C r was the son of a scrivener, of Birmingham. His father, though of a miserly disposition, gave him an education suitable to his views in life ; and, if he could have turned the course of nature, he would have made young Frank just like himself, — a close, old-fashioned, thread-bare, brown-coated, hare-boned, sharp- featured little man, with a black stuff false sleeve, to save his writing-arm from the friction of the desk, and with a pen stuck over his ear ; summer and winter, ever in office-attendance but when counting his money. Like Cicero, however, he could not make what he pleased of his boy. Strange are the exceptions respecting hereditary qualities : we sometimes observe a mis,erly father punished for his avarice in a spendthrift son ; a most learned doctor tortured with a brainless c4 32 FORTY YEARS heir; and thus it was with old Francis C r, whose only boy was actuated, from youth, with the principle of ruining himself; a principle which political economists have pronounced a public benefit. Frank's mother died when he was a child : his- father had fallen in love with her in consequence of a lamentation she uttered over a broken tea- cup. Frank's ea'rly fancy fixed upon a fair one much fonder of tea than of tea-cUps. His next- door neighbour was a milliner, whose daughter, a sweet-faced, cherry-lipped girl, appeared often in the street, in all the finery of her mother's draw- ers: her eyes had shot destroying glances at our young scrivener; and, like a military spirit, he sought for safety by getting under the batteries, that he might storm them, instead of losing his life in a distant cannonade : in short, he risked all for love and glory. The young dress-maker, he found, slept in a garret; so did he ; and while the old man thought his hopeful sort in the arms of sleep, he was on the roof of the house, making love through a sky-light. The fair object of his devotions was too well schooled, however, to ad- IN THE WORLD. 33 mit him without all the sacred preliminaries : they were privately married, and, for a long time, had a heaven upon earth in an upper story, through the accommodating medium of sky- lights and rope-ladders. At length there was an explosion in the milliner's establishment ; but the old lady remembered the old proverb of the bird and her nest ; and, upon taking her stout daughter to task, she found that matters might have been worse. She made a vow, however, that no maiden daughter of her's should ever again sleep in a room with a sky-light. Her prudence prevented her from revealing what had occurred to Frank's father; yet she insisted that her son- in-law should support his wife and child. This puzzled the young scrivener, whose pecuniary means had never been equal to his wants and wishes. Necessity is a sore tempter: he knew where his father's iron chest, well-stocked with guineas, was chained. Ingenuity soon suggested a mode of getting at his object by false keys ; but, as the old miser was in the habit of constantly counting his hoard, to deceive him was the diffi- culty. This was also overcome : old Frank being c5 g4 FORTY YEARS near-sighted, young Frank substituted counterfeit easy, and my affairs were most prosperous. " To crown all, I was on the point of being- married to the very girl that had fixed my youth- ful fancy. Her father had v>dthheld his sanction, for d5 58 FORTY YEARS he was wealthy, and the descendant of a prudent Scotchman, and thought me hardly rich enough for his daughter; but now he came to market every Saturday, often for no purpose but that of seeing the run at my house, and taking his glass with me in my little parlour. Then, in his mel- low, soft moments, he would bring round his chair close to mine, and say, ' Bob, gee me thy fist, mon ; the time is na far awa — but na mare o' that just noo/ Or when he met me crossing his fields to see Nancy, he would brush up to me with pleasure beaming in his eye, and exclaim, ' What way are ye. Bob, the day, mon? ye ha na been here noo lang syne ; right hearty Nanny's eye will be to see ye/ " But the Newry bank failed; the worthy 'Squire Moore, a real gentleman, beloved like a father by his tenantry and all that knew him, was ruined, and I shared his fate. My creditors came upon me ; I lost the inn ; my relations and friends left me to sink ; my intended father-in-law no more came near me; poor Nancy offered to share poverty with me, but he threatened to dis- inherit her ; and I had strength of mind, at that IN THE WORLD. 59 time, to resist the temptation of making her wretched in poverty. " For some time despair stared me in the face, and I found comfort in the stupor o^Potyeen, with wretches hke myself, lost to hope : in short, I forgot God, and determined to become a self- murderer. With this intention, I wrote a fare- well to poor Nancy, and went to a sturk-shed with a rope, which I fixed to the balk, and was putting the noose round my neck with the inten- tion of jumping off a broken window, when I heard from under some straw in the end of it the voice of Nancy — ' Oh God ! my God !' and my emaciated form was immediately clasped in her dear arms, and my bosom bathed with her tears. " I cannot describe what followed. Nancy went to the straw where she had hidden herself on hearing the approach of steps, and, shewing me a scarf twisted into a rope, she confessed that her visit to this desolate spot had been for the same purpoi^e as mine; for, knowing the life I led, despair had seized her, and she determined on quitting a wretched existence and a merce- d6 60 FORTY YEARS nary world. In short, I married Nanc}^, and en- listed, for the purpose of going to India, where the people in our part believe that all the streets are paved with gold." But, gentle reader, poor Bob and his Nancy were unfortunate adventurers : thev both fell vie- tims to disease in India. Unhapp}' pair ! I sin- cerely hope ye found that felicity in heaven which was not your pbrtion on earth. Your baby also sleeps in the grave ! Cruel father ! what must be your feelings, when you think of their fate ? when you reflect on the misery produced by an injudicious exercise of your parental authority? O ! ye parents ! take warning, and do to your children as you would be done to ; for the heart of age, you ought surely to recollect, is cold and selfish ; and you should know, that as much an- guish is propagated in the world by the folly of the old as by the disobedience of the young. At length the boat disappeared from our view — the boat which carried to the shore those mourn- ing and disappointed wives, whose fate it had been to bid a death-like adieu to the living. The yards are manned ; the captain arrives ; a signal- IN THE WORLD. 61 gun from the Hindostan man-of-war, our convoy, announces the glad tidings of departure. It was a moving sight to behold fourteen brave ships unfurl their white sails, and, like living beauties, assume majestic motion on the blue expanse. The shrill fife and war-stirring drum rousing the an- chors from their watery beds, were dear to my ear, whilst my eye feasted on the busy scene, till the toiling sailors ceased from their stimulating "yo, heave, ho!" and the rippling waves curled into white foam as they met our gallant prow. Then I turned to the lessening shore, and that melancholy feeling which a man experiences who is, perhaps, for ever quitting his native land, touched my heart; the images of past joys rose to my ' mind's eye,' and I found a thousand associa- tions linked to memory, of whose fleeting exist- ence frail enjoyment had not deigned to apprize understanding. " Farewell," said I, with a sigh and a tear, "ye white shores of Albion !" Liftino- up my eyes, I saw my friend Frank looking eai- nestly at me. " Yes," mentally exclaimed I, " all my treasure is not left behind when thou art with 62 FORTY YEARS me ;" and in each other's sjTnpathy we forgot our individual proper sorrow. Colonel Benjamin Forbes, one of his Majesty's officers, returning to join his regiment, com- manded the troops on board. By his orders we were formed into three watches. Our hammocks were to be up at a certain hour every morning ; immediately after which the orlop-deck, appro- priated to our use, was to be washed and scraped by a fatigue party. Proper care was taken to prevent drunkenness, by obliging each man to swallow his own drams. Parades and inspections were arranged; amusements and pastimes pointed out; and judicious regulations framed for pro- moting health and comfort. Our passage was extremely barren of incident. In less than five months our commodore had the pleasure of conducting his charge in safety to Madras. Of course, we had variety enough in winds and currents in that length of time; but matter more interesting than the common-places of such a log-book may be selected from the pregnant lives of our convicts. Many a dull IN THE WORLD. 63 hour I spent during our long voyage in listening to the recital of their adventures. It was often the amusement of a knot of them to sit around our lantern in the orlop-deck, in the long even- ings, and tell their own stories. An idea may be formed of the scene of our ad- venture-recitation, by conceiving a large, iron ship-lantern, with panes of horn, suspended from a beam, and casting a sickly visibility on several grim-countenanced convicts, dressed in smock- frocks, and seated on the deck. Of such a group I generally formed a part, and drank with my eyes and ears the wild entertainment before me. There was a sentry at our main hatchway, with a drawn sword, to watch the light ; and the long- visaged master-at-arms, with two or three blue- jacketed tars, would often be listeners. At this hour the hammocks were slung in view, and many a snorer in them enjoying the oblivion of repose. It has been said, that if every man's life were written there would be entertainment in it: I deny the truth, however, of this wise saw of anti- quity. What amusement would there be in re- 64 FORTY YEARS cording that a man was true, but for lying ; ho- nest, but for stealing; that at last he was detected, tried, sentenced to be hanged or transported, but pardoned on condition of fighting for the honour and glory of his king and country ? No, it must be something out of the common wheel-rut of life that will ruffle the thick-skinned minds of ro- mance-readers. I shall, therefore, let all the stories I heard ,slumber in the grave of memory, except three, which I deem worthy of resurrec- lion. For their truth I vouch not : if the narrators coloured their lives where they required a fanciful touch, and threw such parts into the shade as vanity prom.pted them to keep back — is not such the state of all self-portraitures ? What lady but admires the glass that flatters her ? Wliat artist ever made a fortune by painting eyes, noses, fore- heads and chins just as they are? The whole may be an authentic picture ; at least, the matter true to nature. So, without another flourish, I end to begin. IN THE WORLD. 65 DUGALD M'DONALD. DuGALD was a brawny, low-set man, aged about forty; his activity and strength were still great; and in his countenance there was an ac- quired ferocity that baffles description. I call it acquired, because it was visible only when his energies or passions were roused. At such mo- ments his mouth was draw^n up, and his nose down ; his eyes appeared to be gilded with fire, like those of a cock; and his projecting eye- brows, covered with shagged red hair, followed the concentration of his other strong features, and gave to his aspect a determined, undaunted, furious character. His hair was red and strong, and it rose, when he was agitated, like bristles: his complexion was a fair bronze; and a deep cut, which extended from his right cheek towards his left eye, had seriously injured the bridge of his nose, and contracted the natural play of his right eye, so that he winked continually ; and in doing so his upper lip was quickly drawn away with the right cheek, and displayed a set of yellow grindere that would have been dreaded in the jaws of a 66 FORTY YEARS wild boar. Being pressed to relate his adven- tures, he began thus : — " My father, good boys, was an honest man ; at least, so he was reputed ; and my mother had as kind and tender a heart as ever palpitated in fe- male breast. My misfortune is, they were too fond of me. In strict justice, therefore, I ought to blacken their characters, in imitation of him under the gall6ws who bit off his parent's ear for teaching him to be a thief. He who was the cause of my appearing as an actor in this most curious world, held rank as a gentleman, and a small pro- perty, from the collateral branch of the head of my name in Scotland. I was educated in the high school of Edinburgh ; but, being spoiled by over-indulgence before I went thither, instead of taking delight in the walks of literature, I sought for pleasure in the company of idlers. This course naturally led me into a scale of expendi- ture far beyond the allowance I had from home. By private representations to my mother, I for a considerable time raised the wind with the fond gifts I received from her ; but, as these soon be- gan to fall short of my necessities, I was forced to draw upon my invention for fresh supplies. IN THE WORLD. ^ " At this time my chum, the friend of my heart, was in the same circumstances as myself. Never has my eye rested on a more manly form than Hector Wilson's. It was not merely a fine shell, covering a lump of insipidity ; it was not a gor- geous casket in the jewel-chamber of a play-house, containing emptiness, or worthless painted glass ; no, his outside was, like the palace of a king, the true representative of the sumptuous grandeur that reigned within. Mystery hung over his in- volved life. He knew nothing of his parentage or family, having merely a confused remembrance of a dreadful scene, in which his mother was killed by interposing herself suddenly and fear- lessly between his father and a mutinous crew on board his vessel. * Her blood flowed on me,* said he, ' as I twisted my little arms round her on the deck; but I was dragged away, and never saw father or mother more.* " Since that period, he had been indebted for protection to strangers, who were liberally paid for their care of him; but with such precaution and secresy, that no clue was left by which inge- nuity could unravel his wild and strange conjec- tures. He was conscious of an unceasing and 68 FORTY YEARS anxious agency respecting his fate; for he was personally supplied with money at uncertain periods — receiving it in the dusk of the gloming, on the drawbridge of Leith, from a person in the garb of a sailor, who would answer no inqui- ries. These meetings were arranged by letters sent to him through the post-office. " Whether this uncertainty respecting himself had sublimed his imagination, acting on thought as fire does on mercury; or whether nature had constructed the vessels of his heart so that immi- nent danger could not constringe them, I take not upon myself to determine ; but I know, from personal observation, he was brave beyond the imputation of personal fear : he delighted in fa- miliarity with all that is terrible. I have seen him hang over the precipices about Edinburgh, and risk his life a thousand times in mad adven- ture, conducted with consummate skill and un- agitated prudence. " For some time before my extreme want of money, he had not heard from his unknown banker; he was, therefore, not, as I said before, in the same, but in worse circumstances than my- self. Indeed, when he was in cash I never IN THE WORLD. 6^ wanted; for he forced his upon me with the prodigahty of youth, which estimates friendship higher than gold. Many were the vain attempts I made to furnish the means for the continuation of our extravagance. In proportion as our wants became urgent, we began to envy others, and to curse fortune for bestowing riches with such in- equahty; not considering that, compared to many, we were amply supplied. In short, we saw that others had what we wanted ; the devil got posses- sion of our minds, and, arming ourselves, we took up a position on the Glasgow road one night with the intention of emptying travellers' pockets to fill our own. " It was an evening in November, as dark as Benlomond in a storm. The wind whistled sharply as it broke on our noses, and the rain threatened to pelt us from our post, when we heard the tramp of a horse approaching, and figured to our imagination a rich and easy prize. The traveller passed between us, on Hector's side : there was just light enough to see him. In a moment his bridle-rein was in Wilson's hand, and my pistol at his head. ' Fear nothing,' said Hector ; * it is 70 FORTY YEARS your trash of money, and not your life, we want ; but your purse or your life we must have.' The stranger was quite speechless from fear and astonishment; so Hector seizing one arm and leg, and I the other, v/e disfurnished his pockets of their contents. ' Spare my life,' said he, in a tremulous voice, ' and I'll give you all I have.' Just as he had placed his last shilling in Hector's hand, a vivid' flash of lightning crossed his face; and you may judge of what I felt, when I simply tell you, that its lurid light revealed to me my father !" The ferocity of McDonald's look, when he pro- nounced " My father," electrified me. His mouth and nose nearly met; the scowl of his forehead cast his lower face into deep shade ; his eye, at every wink, sent forth a stream of spirituous fire ; and the contraction of his cheek, drawing up with it the right side of his mouth, altogether dis- played such internal commotion as I had not be- fore witnessed in the human countenance. After a long, convulsive pause, he proceeded. " Agitation had so choked my poor father's voice, that it was not like his own. No wonder, IN THE WORLD. 71" therefore, that I did not know him when he spoke. But when I saw his face, I felt as though the thunder, then pealing over us, had struck me dead. I saw, I heard no more, till he had gone; when, awaking as from a frightful dream, I found Hector near me where I lay on the ground, full of apprehension that I had been killed by the lightning. He congratulated me on our good fortune ; and when I told him of the spectre that had frightened me, laughed at and ridiculed my weakness. " The next morning I was visited by my old boy ; and really, notwithstanding what had hap- pened to me the night before, I felt it most diffi- cult, while my father told me his tale of the rob- bery, to restrain myself. It was ludicrous enough for me to be the cause of all the lonff faces he made on the occasion; and to hear how the rogue snapped his pistol in his ear, and how it burnt priming ; and how he saw, by the flash in the pan, a band of robbers about him, with drawn, flaming- swords ; and, in short, how he saw a thousand things that he never saw, but in the glass of his disordered imagination : such a distorter of ob- 72 FORTY YEARS jects, such a magnifier of danger, is fear ! Well, I had to accompany my dad to the provost; when he lodged such an information, and gave such a description of the formidable gang his fancy had conjured up, as made his worship bless himself, and express a sore fear for the good town. The hue and cry were raised, and Hector and I had the chuckle of hearing the hounds in full pursuit of uS, without any of that palpitation which a hare feels in her form. Hector and I were quite out of the sphere of suspicion ; and, as a reward for our night's exploit, we had nearly one hundred pounds in gold. " My father was coming to the capital with this purse, to clear off my encumbrances ; and, being alarmed at reports respecting my course of living, he had made up his mind to put me out of the way of temptation by taking me home for good along with him. In imparting this his intention to me, he also indicated that he had views re- specting my settlement in life, but forbore going into particulars, leaving me to conjecture that marriage was the subject of his thoughts. I quaked with apprehension ; for I had already IN THE WORLD. 73 been wounded to the heart's core by the dart of love. " It was in one of our boating-excursions on the winding Forth that I met with this charmer of my soul. Hector and I had been admiring the romantic scenery of the Lomond hills. As v>^e were returning, in a still and beautiful evening in September, cheering the Forth with the music of our flutes, we overtook a boat, with a party of pleasure in it, who seemed to linger, that they might enjoy our sprightly airs ; but we had not pi'oceeded far in company, when a dark change spread over the scene. The southern horizon in appearance neared us, and began to rise in a black cloud, the lower edge of which curled, like angry waves, and broke into white coruscations, dar ting- upwards into the murky region, like spray. Soon after, the wind began to whistle fearfully; and so sudden was the awful change, that we had scarcely time to haul down our sail, and make ourselves quite snug, v/hen a heavy gust made our boat reel. We heard a general scream in our consort, then at some distance from us : all was instantly silent, save the roaring elements; but we were soon as- VOL. I. E 74 THE PASSAGE OUT. sured, by struggling cries, that she had upset. Cheering our boatmen, we pulled in that direc- tion, against wind and tide. The squall had passed us on eagle wing ; the rain was pelting the angry waves; the moon was peering over the black rid^re that had obscured her silver loveliness; when Wilson and I saw the figure of a lady, who seemed to be clinging to an oar. We both darted mto the foam around us, and, leaving the obstructed boat behind, buffetted the waves, and at once seized her sinking and apparently lifeless form. " After a long and hard struggle, we regained our boat; but our efforts to resuscitate the young creature we had snatched from the 3'aTNaiing Forth were long unsuccessful. Her drooping head hung over my breast, and her dark, disheveled hair floated across my face, as I supported her, whilst Hector, -with anxious concern, was preparing a bed in the stern for her reception. I know not any thing to which I can compare my feelings : my heart beat so that I thought it would break ; I wished that I were a fire to warm the cold girl into life. She did not remind me of death ; but she brought into recollection the most beautiful THE PASSAGE OUT. 75 marble statue I had ever seen. Her eyes were closed as in sleep ; a smile seemed to curl on her purple lip ; and the hue of health still appeared to mantle on her cheek. " We stripped off her wet clothes, and rolled her up in our dry boat-cloaks. The beauty of her fair form shed a light around itself; and, kneeling on each side, we resorted to every means that ingenuity suggested, in our unprovided state, to effect recovery. We chafed her wdth our hands ; and you may conceive, but I cannot describe, the looks of joy that effused from our souls, when we at length felt a pulse at her heart. But what was our emotion when we saw her lips assuming the tint of rose-buds ? Can you con- ceive my rapture when I felt her breath, like perfume, as I stooped to feel with, my lips, its warmth? A long sigh bespoke the return of sensation ; and, raising her lily hand to her ala- baster forehead, she opened those dark eyes, whose powerfully penetrating rays, like invisible sparks from an electric machine, bewildered my senses. Yet, unconscious of the shock they in- flicted, I gazed away my heart. E 2 'Ifd THE PASSAGE OUT. " To be brief with a part of my story, that memory cannot leave wdthout regret, Flora Camp- bell was escorted by Hector and me, on our return to Leith, to the house of a relation, with whom she was on a visit. She had perfectly recovered from the ill effects of her narrow escape, but being in a state of the deepest distress of mind, for the loss of a brother and some other relatives, who were di'owned on the melancholy occasion, I could not venture to press my attentions, and for several weeks merely tendered respectful inquiries at her door. At length she left Leith, and carried her grief to the vicinity of Glasgow, where her father resided. " My passion for this lovely girl did not abate the I'age of pleasure which I felt. Indeed, our accidental meeting had occurred only a short time before the arrival of my father : I was, there- fore, obliged to accompany him home, without ascertaining what ground I had for hope, respect- ing my Flora. But I left Edinburgh and Hector with less regret, I well know, than I should have done, had I not been going in the direction of the THE PASSAGE OUT. 77 object of my fondest desire. Since the formation of our friendship, I had never concealed my bo- som thoughts from Wilson, on any occasion, save the present. The cause of this was — a suspicion had taken possession of my mind, that Hector loved Flora too, and hoarded the secret in his own breast : but my cogitation on this disloyalty did not lead me to condemn him, for I merely accused him of what I was guilty of myself. 1 left him with every demonstration of affection, placing in his hands the whole sum of which we had rifled my father. " I had not been long at home before the grand explosion, which I expected, took place. My father had, in fact, disposed of me over a bowl of toddy, in a way which, in his wisdom, would con- duce to the interest of our family and his happi- ness. He had all but married me to my cousin Jenny, whose face and temper I never could bear : the one was an emblem of the other; both were as tart as a green crab. In a word, she was the oppo- site of every thing lovely, or even tolerable : no man, but my father, had ever thought of matrimony in her presence ; nor would he, had not ambition E 3 78 THE PASSAGE OUT. and avidity blinded his reason. She was teri years older than I ; but, in my father's eyes, her fortune was ample. When he proposed her to me, I, however, at once negatived the offer. I was but little acquainted with my dad's temper. He drew his face up into a most determined purse, and, frowning like stormy night, he thundered forth, ' But ye will, tho', for a' that,' and left me. " He had never cast upon me such a look before. I had always found him gentle, easily entreated, and weakly indulgent; but, oh, it is hard to know the human heart. The astronomer can ascertain the motions of the heavenly bodies, while the intricate and eccentric emotions of dust and ashes baffle the researches of philosophy. My father had thought so long on the advantages of my marriage, that he had settled it as a domestic arrangement, which no difficulty should frustrate. In prospect, he saw me a parliament man ; in my own unhappy home, he never beheld me disgusted with my fate. But I must be brief, in detailing many particulars. *' In short, he gave me the choice of making THE PASSAGE OUT. 79 up my mind lo his wishes, by a certain day, or of bidding adieu to him for ever. " Meanwhile, with my heart full of hope and fear, I had seen my lovely Flora. Mine I did I say ? distracting thought ! her heart was entirely another's ; nothing had she for me but gratitude. I sought for consolation and assistance, by turning to friendship and Hector — ^he was not in existence for me : he had left Edinburgh ; he had not writ- ten to me. A thousand conjectures arose in my mind. At length the fatal day of my answering arrived. To face my father would have been use- less. I knew his determined and unbending nature on the point in question. I thought, however, a little time would mollify him, and that it was wise for me to withdraw from his resentment. Short- sighted creatures that we are ! I was doomed never to see him again. He traced me to Glasgow ; and in his way home, after a fruitless search, he was, by an accidental fall off his horse, killed on the spot. His lifeless body was carried home so indiscreetly and abruptly, that my poor mother met it at her hall-door, instead of the loved old husband she had gone out to embrace. The shock w^as too E 4 80 THE PASSAGE OUT. much for her frail heart-strings : they broke ; and an agonized groan, long, faint, and suffocating, was all she uttered." Here Macdonald's face was convulsed, and his whole aspect awfully terrific. He paused for a moment, and proceeded : *' These melancholy events I did not learn till some time after their occurrence; when I also found that my father's property had been seized, and sold for debt. I was now poor and friendless. It is probable I should have been assisted by my relations, but accusingmyself of being instrumen- tal, by my rashness, in causing the death of my parents, I was ashamed to make myself known. Whatever blame I took to myself, then, in the freshness of my grief, for the tragedy in question, I stand now fully acquitted by reflection, in the court of conscience. When a father forgets his duty towards his child, the consequences of his departure from wisdom must lie upon him : mine, on the subject of marriage, was unjust and tyran- nical : he measured the law of my obedience by the standard of parental, not of filial sensation ; for he had received the forsjiveness of his father THE PASSAGE OUT. 81 for a stolen marriage ; but, instead of imitating his conduct, he followed the brutal example of Sir George More, and would have destroyed the hap- piness of his child." Here I shall take leave, for the consideration of cruel parents, to illustrate Macdonald's allusion to Sir George More. The poet, Donne, when secretary to Lord Chancellor Ellesmere, formed an attachment, which became mutual, to the niece of Lady Ellesmere, and they were privately married. Sir George More, her father, had no pity for the romantic passion, with which the wri- ter of such breathing lines as these, could inspire the female breast : " Stay, oh, sweet ! and do not rise : The light that shines comes from thine eyes; The daybreaks not — it is my heart, Because that you and I must part. Stay, or else my joys will die, And perish in tljeir infancy." He not only refused to support the two lovers, but insisted on the Chancellor's driving Donne from his protection. Yet Dr. Donne was a man of such genius and talent as to attract, afterwards, the notice of his King, and to become rector of E 5 82 THE PASSAGE OUT. St. Dunstan's in the West, and dean of St. Paul's. Their marriage deserves to be recorded in the catalogue of happy matches. When Donne ac- companied Sir Robert Drury on an embassy to France, Mrs. Donne, with an attachment as ro- mantic as her husband's fancy, formed the design of going with him as a page. " Filled with doubt and perplexity," continued Macdonald, "as to my future course of life, I stood, late one night, lost in thought, on the banks of the Clyde. The lamps of heaven's palaces may have glittered over my head, with all the brilliancy of winter splendour ; in the blue firmament which may have appeared above me like a hanging sea, my fancy might have pictured them celestial light- houses; and the clear purple flood of the majes- tically moving Clyde might have called forth, in like manner, my poetical recollections : but who ever thought of the beauties of nature in a state of mind similar to mine ? No ! I forgot all the loveliness of a clear winter night; the silver moon could not charm away my melanchoty. I looked into the rolling water, where I saw nothing to cheer me but its destructive power. ' Oli, that THir PASSAGE OUT. 83 I were chained to thy bottom,' said I, ' there would soon be an end of my miserable life.' ' Friendship and hope forbid such an experi- ment,' exclaimed a voice just behind me, and in a moment I was locked in the arms of Hector Wilson. " ' Tell me nothing,' said he, ' I know all your sad story. You were not a moment out of my mind : but body cannot fly, like thought. It was impossible for me to see you sooner ; never shall we part more.' He whistled shrilly, and in a moment a boat rounded the point on which 1 stood : into it we leapt, and in a short time I was on the deck of a handsome cutter. " Meanwhile Hector had informed me, that on the night of my departure from Edinburgh, in consequence of a letter from his unknown banker, he had gone to the old place of meeting, at Leith. ' I had not remained on the spot,' said Wilson, ' five minutes, when a majestic figure of a man, enveloped in a cloak, approached me.' ' I am thy father,' said he, in a hollow sepulchral tone of voice ; 'follow me.' I was awe- struck to silence ; he waved a short sword, v> hich E 6 84 THE PASSAGE OUT. had been at first concealed under his cloak, and moved off in a slow, stately manner. I assumed the same step, as though by magic impulse. On coming to the quay, he whistled, and the oars of a boat were raised ; I followed him into it, and we were soon on board the cuttei', that you see lying before you. The crew, a bold, ferocious looking set of men, surrounded us on the deck, and fol- lowed my father, who, as I guessed, was their captain, to the cabin. ' Hector Wilson,' said my father, ' are you willing to follow the fortune of the brave ?' ' I am,' was my instantaneous reply. ' Thou art of my blood,' cried he; and throw- ing off his cloak, he fondly embraced me, with- out shedding a tear, yet with deep feeling. ' Read that paper,' continued my father, ' and swear to it; not on a book, but by depositing your honour on this hanger, which is now your own.' " In fact. Hector went on, and informed me how he swore ; and how the cutter instantly sailed ; and how lie prevailed on his father to return, after a short cruize, when he learned all the particulars of my fate, and traced me out. In short, I found THE PASSAGE OUT. 85 that Hector now belonged to a formidable asso- ciation of smugglers, who had such communication with the ports of Glasgow and Edinburgh, as to carry on a lucrative, but imminently dangerous trade, with good hope, that for ever success would attend them. - " Wilson also explained to me the cause of his father's mysterious conduct. ' My mother,' said he, * was not killed, as 1 thought, by muti- neers ; but she lost^her lite in a desperate defence made by my father, against a surprise by one of his Majesty's revenue boats. He was boarded by them most unexpectedly ; my mother rushed out of the cabin, on hearing the noise, and received a death-blow in the struggle. He then placed me, his only child, at school, determining to give me a profession ; but finding the bent of my mind to be like his own, he changed his intention.' This accounted for what was extraordinary in old Wil- son's conduct ; for had Hector embraced a profes- sion, he never would have known who or what his father was. " When we gained the deck of the Saily cut- ter, her ofljcers were regaling themselves with 86 THE PASSAGE OUT. son^y and wine. Wilson took me below, into a sort of cuddy, where I could see, through a half- open door, five stout fellows at a round table, with glasses and bottles before them, one of whom was, with a good sea voice, singing these words." And Macdonald sang them, as Chaucer describes, "en- tuned in his nose full sweetly," S-0 N G. MY SHIP'S MY BRIDE. *' My ship's my bride, the sea's my bed; My curtains are the sky ; A blood-red flag streams o'er my head — Thus may I live and die. See ! see ! my Sally's bosom swells To Nature's moving tide : Beats there a heart no rapture tells, To eye my beauteous bride ? And when slie breaks from anchor's sleep, Oh ! with what grace she walks, Like Venus rising from the deep — Hear ! hear her ! how she talks ! Her white robe, like her bosom, swells, Full, round, expanding wide : Beats there a heart no rapture tells, To eye my beauteous bride ?" We gave our entertaining Dugald a round of boisterous applause, and he proceeded thus : THE PASSAGE OUT. 87 " When the song was done, the five started up, and taking their glasses, and holding them high, joined in a full chorus — " A very good song, and very well sung, Jolly companions every one. We're the boys," &c. " We now joined them. However, it wouldmake my story too long to describe these worthies : let it suffice for me to inform you, that I became one of the association ; bound by a most sacred oath never to reveal our acts. I must, in justice to my conscience, therefore, be silent on a very prolific subject. That our exploits were hazardous, and required brave spirits, witness this gash across my face, which is only one of several that I bear on my body. Old Wilson died, at last, full of yeai's, and he has the ocean for his honourable grave. His brave son, my noble friend Hector, fell in these arms, fighting against overwhelming num- bers. The command was left with me, but for- tune forsook us, and treachery broke us up. De- prived of my accustomed resources, I again aimed at recruiting my exhausted purse on the road. Let me be brief: I was taken — condemned to 88 THE PASSAGE OUT. (lie ; and I should have been tucked up — the fate of many a better man — if the generosity of my conduct, in saving the life of my prosecutor, had not pleaded for the partial extension of royal mercy to me : partial, I call it, because my sen- tence was only changed to transportation for life, which I commuted to a soldier's banishment." But, pray, said I, what became of your lovely Flora ? Was Hector really enamoured of her, as well as yourself? " My suspicion on that point," answered Macdonald, " was entirely groundless. He saw that I was captivated; if he had been so, such was the nobility of his mind, that I am convinced he would not have taken any advantage of me. In fact, I believe he had sufficient generosity to make all selfishness obey the dictates of real friendship : I am sure he would have conquered himself to save me. But Flora was in love before we rescued her from death; she married the man of her heart ; and, to the best of my knowledge, he still enjoys the happiness it was in her power to bestow. I might have blasted their felicity, without increasing my own ; I might have carried THE PASSAGE OUT. 89 Flora off; but if I had been such a villain, I could not have been so completely blessed in friendship, as a reward for disappointment in love. I adored Flora too much, not to make her happiness the object of my own. Such is the disinterestedness of true affection." RICHARD GODFREY. There was nothing very remarkable in the appearance of Richard. I shall, therefore, let him tell his own story, without afiy descriptive exordium : " My father and mother were in easy circum- stances, and in the best society. We had a hand- some house in the agreeable town of ; and as my father had been once in the army, he courted the military of the place, so that we had a con- stant variety of elegance and fashion at our table. I have heard my mother say that our income w^as about four hundred a-year; but I know this of my own knowledge, that we spent double as much annually, for a length of time. Indeed it was privately whispered, that nearly all the current 90 THE PASSAGE OUT. expenses of our establishment were discharged by the card-table. " I must acknowledge that my parents were immoderately fond of whist; they seemed to exist only when at play ; then their energies were fully excited, and the rest of life was a listless kind of slumber. Before I had attained the age of ten, my passion for cards was great, and my skill at several games very considerable. Children, from their imitative powers, almost inevitably acquire the habits of their parents. There may be some exceptions, it is true, but they only prove the existence of general rules. There was enough of honey in my examples to render them perfectly delicious to youthful taste ; so that by the time my education was finished, I had become so fond of expensive living, and down- right gaming, as to be perfectly competent, by my own amusements, to absorb my father's whole revenue. " He designed me for the army ; but feeling it inconvenient, he would not purchase a commis- sion for me, having a promise from high autho- rity that I should be appointed to an ensigncy. THE PASSAGE OUT. 91 I saw the Gazette teeming with promotions every Saturday, but my name had not yet appeared. Meanwhile I rattled about with the young officers in our town, being considered as one of them- selves, and caressed as a spirited and promising young fellow ; for it ever happens among thought- less, extravagant fools, that he who displays the greatest folly receives the highest approbation. Nevertheless, my father and mother often found their parental affections so highly excited, by my wasteful spirit, as to lecture me with animated countenances on economical principles. But he is a good sermon-maker who can follow his own doctrine : they went on in the old way; so did L " At length my father began to despair of the per- formance of a promise at the Horse-Guards, and sent me to London, for the purpose of presenting a memorial to the Commander-in-chief. No respect- able person finds it difficult, if acquainted with the forms, to gain admission to the presence of the Duke of York. I was received by his Royal Highness with great condescension and politeness; he alleged the multiplicity of applications and pro- mises, of prior date to mine, as the reason of my 92 THE PASSAGE OUT. not appearing in the Gazette ; and shewed me a list of names for ensigncies, in which I saw my own so far down, that I left his office with a face unilluminated by a beam of hope. " Like other young men, I had a tolerably good opinion of my own ingenuity. I had trea- sured up some of the peevish remarks made by father and mother, as to the burthensome nature of my extravagance. ' Now,' said I to myself, * thou art in London, Dick, where whoever has the brains of Whittington may turn a cat into a Lord Mayor.' In short, instead of returning home, I went into a gaming-house. I soon be- came an object of attention to the black-leg fra- ternity : they saw, or suspected, that I had little to lose ; and that I was not loaded with the phi- losophy of moral sentiment. I was, in fact, after a successful noviciate, admitted into their college, and schooled in all the science of our order. The secrets of London hells, however, are not permit- ted to be revealed to ears of common flesh and blood ; it is enough to say, that many a chicken we plucked, and that, at last, we nearly all be- came victims to deceitful confidence. I was, not- THE PASSAGE OUT. 93 withstanding all my ingenuity, sentenced to tran- sportation for life ; which affords me this oppor- tunity of leaving you to extract useful instruction from my story, by reflecting on this truth, that our misfortunes in life, our crimes, and excesses, are often to be traced to errors in education, and to pax'ental follies. " My father, apparently, would not acknow- ledge a vagabond as his son. Whether this were really his feeling, or whether my letters reached him when his head was too full of whist, he never answered them, nor made an exertion to save me." In reflecting on Godfrey's tale, the subjoined observation occurs. Moralists, in general, regard parental affection as the ground of filial obe- dience and love. They do so, I think, on a natu- ral principle ; every thing creates its own likeness ; but we never see reaction in dissimilitude. Will the negative of affection generate its positive ? No. Dick felt little love for his parents, because they did not inspire it ; they did not create it in his mind. Much sentimental nonsense has been written about obligations to parents for the mere 94 THE PASSAGE OUT. circumstance of birth. In reality, a child owes his father nothing on that head. What does he owe him, if subjected to misery through subsequent neglect ? It is for their care of us, and for giving us a second birth in education, morality, and reli- gion, that we are indebted to our parents in grati- tude, love, and almost adoration ; this debt was never felt, rarely incurred, without being paid. I remark this, not to defend filial impiety, but to enforce parental care. He who has given an im- mortal soul to inhabit a tenement of clay, should be careful that so frail a habitation be well se- cured, and erected on ground so firm, that its tenant may not be destroyed by elemental convul- sion s ; for he who does not take such precautions incurs responsibility more awful than that of the attendant on a light-house, w^ho may cause ship- wreck by neglecting its illumination. In the relation of father and son, duties and feelings are reciprocal : they are formed by nature for mutual support ; but I deny the assertion, that father and son are intended by nature to be the most perfect friends. Are their feelings alike ? No. Are their aores alike ? No. Are thev fond THE PASSAGE OUT. 95 of the same amusements ? No. Are they equally candid and credulous ? There is all the difference that lies between age and youth. Then they can- not be, strictly speaking, bosom friends. One is a superior, the other an inferior : one is a gover- nor, the other governed. Is there any equality ? No. The one is a giver, the other a receiver. Father and son, however, are mutual supports. When the Roman Daughter fed her father, and sustained his life, under sentence of starvation, the senate were so much pleased, that a temple was dedicated to filial piety, and that virtue was con- sidered as the most inherent in human nature. But were they not altogether in error ? If it were an innate principle, there would not be so many laws of God and man to enforce performance. A Gre- cian lawgiver gave parricide no place in his cata- logue of punishments, because he supposed that such an atrocious crime against Nature's law could never be perpetrated. Man's frailty, how- ever, has rendered necessary as many restraints on the parental side as on the filial. In short, it is my conviction, that as many bad parents have lived, as there have been graceless children. 96 THE PASSAGE OUT. FREEMAN JENKINS. Freeman Jenkins was in possession of a pleas- ing person, with a sarcastic turn of countenance, which imparted to what he said a degree of inte- rest and spirit, not possible to be transferred with it to paper. His age might be about five-and-thirty. " My parents died when I was a child. I fell into the hands of a relation, who gave me the best education his circumstances permitted, and in my fifteenth year, bound me to an apothecary in the town of , not one hundred miles from Dublin. " The characteristic eccentricities of my master, whom I shall call Doctor Nativo, were the general topic of conversation. He wore a full-bottomed wig, powdered to perfection, and a hat which would have done honour to the gravest of heads. Summer and winter he paraded the streets, en- veloped in a capacious cloak of bright-coloured tartan ; above which appeared the powdered capes of black coats and waistcoats, with a pro- fusion of snow- coloured linen ; and a gold-set eye- glass dangling from a black ribbon ; and below, a THE PASSAGE OUT. 97 pair of highly-polished boots, with brown tops, that never crossed a horse. His fine, silver-headed cane he poised with prodigious effect : in his air and march there was high self-satisfaction; and busy importance sat in his every look. For all disorders he prescribed our native specific — whisky ; it was to be used internally and » exter- nally, cold and hot, burnt and raw, concentrated and sublimated. He had the oil of whisky, the purest essence of whisky, the quintessence of whisky, doul:)le-distilled whisky, the spirits of whisky, infusion of whisky, and whisky in pills, and whisky in boluses, and whisky in every possible form : in short, whisky was to him a panacea. " Nor did Dr. Nativo prescribe for others what he refused to take himself: he sipped whisky as tea for breakfast, as broth for dinner, and as an opiate for supper. Our Catholic bishop w^as one of his best patients ; he was a jolly Falstaff-like priest, with a huge face, under a mighty wig and Jiat. A stream of snuff gave a full, brown colour to his black waistcoat and long frock. He sup- ported his right-reverend body with a right-wor- yoL. I. F 98 THE PASSAGE OUT. shipful Staff; and, puffing along, he generally called three or four times a-day at our shop. It baffles all description how he would souse himself into a great arm-chair, and throw himself back quite in an exhausted state ; and how Dr. Nativo would fly to him, grasp his pulse with the right fore-finger and thumb, cock his glass left-handedly in his face — ' My dear bishop, you just require a slight stimulant,' giv^ing a significant grin. — ' My dear doctor, I believe 1 do,' shaking his porten- tous head, and swallowing a cherried-devil. I did not stay long enough with the doctor to see much of his practice ; but I was informed by the sexton, who received half-a-crown for every grave, that Dr. Nativo was one of his very best friends. Whisky I then detested, though I have since overcome my strong prejudice; therefore, I dis- hked my master's breakfasts, dinners, and sup- pers : in short, in a few days I became one of the most hungry, long-faced, melancholy poundei'S of medicine that ever stood over pestle and mortar. 'D n this work,' said I, 'it will kill me in a month :' so I seized upon a few shillings that wej*e in the till, tramped it off to Dublin, enlisted for THE PASSAGE OUT. 99 general service, and joined the army dej}6t at Chatham. My master never knew the course I had taken, nor do I know or care what has become of him. *' I was immediately taken from drill by the pay-serjeant of our division, and appointed to keep his books ; for he and his wife had a sort of shop, well supplied with every article which a recruit requires: their profits did not exactly equal prime cost ; I sometimes, however, thought their's was a better trade than coining, and my ambition began to aim at rising to a similar post. The Serjeant was a long-faced, wide-mouthed, thin, tall young man ; his wife was a plump, little, pretty-faced, purple-nosed, fiery-eyed woman. He was a smart, good soldier, but a henpecked husband : she, to what has immortalized the wife of Socrates, added the thirst of a mistress of Bacchus. They led a deplorable life, which gave me such an aversion to matrimony, that it was long before I could think of the noose, without feeling like a man going to be hanged. There was a something worth relating in her history. " She was the natural daughter of a major, r2 100 THE PASSAGE OUT. who gave her a good education. It was his in- tention to acknowledge her, and to introduce her into life as his daughter ; but a cold principle of pride counteracted the generous feeling, and poor Maria v/as brought up as a servant. She went by another nam^ though she knew that she was a major's offspring. She shed her sorrows in floods of tears, till familiarity with grief in private crazed the tone of her mind; then she sought relief in stimulants; and as habits are formed by imper- ceptible repetitions, at last she became a con- firmed and obstinate dram-drinker, being supplied by the smuggling females, who introduce gin into barracks by secreting it in bladders under their petticoats. Meanwhile, her husband, who was then on the recruiting-service, courted her ac- quaintance, and they were married. The interest of the major with one of the staff-captains at Chatham, procured a good situation for his hum- ble son-in-law, had he known hov, to convert it into happiness. " I left poor Maria and her husband, however, in a perfect hell upon earth, and embarked on board an Indiaman for Bombay, having been THE PASSAGE OUT. 101 handed over to the East-India Company. The bustle on board I need not describe. We sailed full of hope. I was, I believe, the most youthful soldier of sevent}^ on board our vessel ; yet Colo- nel , who commanded the troops, appointed me to act as his principal noncommissioned officer, issuing orders and regulations nearly the same as we have had promulgated in this vessel. *" By the time we reached Madeira, the charac- ters of all on board were displayed. The recruits in general were unwilling to do even what they knew was ordered for their good: it had been found necessary to make several examples, before any sort of discipline could be introduced amongst tliem. The colonel seemed to be angry with me for not reporting even the appearance of disobe- dience directly to him ; yet he would occasionally act as my schoolmaster, teaching me useful les- sons, and showing his regard by giving me pre- served fruit and wine. Having a considerable portion of vanity, I therefore carried myself very arrogantly to those who envied me. Still I winked at many things, particularly at the sale of grog. In short, I not only winked at this disobedience, f3 102 THE PASSAGE OUT. but sold my own, in order to buy water from the steward. A man who had received a starting, one day, for refusing to pump the ship, in revenge complained to the colonel that I had sold grog to a sailor. ' Have you done so?* demanded the colonel. I, like most boys permitted to mix with the rabble in Ireland, had no fixed principles on the most important point of morality, a strict xiegard to truth ; I therefore answered, * No, Sir ;' but as I trembled and red- dened, the colonel suspected my veracity. ' Of all things,' said he, ' a young soldier should value his honour.' I wished to retract, but false shame lU'ged me forward. Such is the state of morals among the lower classes in Ireland. Lying is com- mon ; nay, our courts of justice prove that even perjury is so: yet, an uneducated Irish lad of spirit, when he has once told a lie, which he does not hesitate to do, feels like the Spartan boy, who suffered the fox he had stolen to tear his bowels out, rather than discover that the proof of his guilt was beneath his cloak. This was my feel- ing : I strove to preserve consistency : an inquiry took place: the sailor to whom I had sold the THE PASSAGE OUT. 103 wroff was called into the colonel's cabin, and positively denied having bought any from me; but, upon being questioned by his own captain, he instantly confessed the fact. ' Take off your stripes,' said the colonel; and I slank away, to receive a greater punishment from self-reproach than my superior had power to inflict." Ah ! thought I, when I heard this interesting dis- closure ; let everyone dread the tribunal of his own breast. — "Pray, sir, how did you become a gentle- man?" demands young Rapid, in The Cure for the Heart-Ache. — " Simply, by never committing an action that would not bear reflection," answers young Stanley; and such should be the aim of man. " I continued for some time," said Jenkins, '' out of favour ; but the colonel restored me to his confidence and my rank, one evening, on pa- rade, when he observed to the men, that he often made it a rule to forgive the first offence, in the hope of opening a path to future good conduct. I was now doubly on the alert to please, and, fearless of any discovery in my own conduct, boldly arraigned that of others. We had got round the Cape of Good Hope, and time was 104 THE PASSAGE OUT. passing very pleasantly. However, a most un- expected stroke of fortune again interrupted the course of my prosperity. " One day I saw one of the soldiers in the waste, seated on the booms, setting and cleaning some handsome penknives for the chief-officer : there were five of them. I looked at them, with a crowd of observers around, and after admiring and returning them to the person from whom I had received them, I went to the other side of the deck. Some time after, the knife-setter came up, and told me he had lost one of the knives ; that I was the only person seen handling them, and in- sinuated that I had taken it. I was naturally indignant at the slander — altercation followed, and I complained to the colonel of the man that presumed to accuse me: he was brought to a court-martial. "When the trial came on, I stated briefly the matter of fact, and the language used by the prisoner to me, and proved the same. He, being put upon his defence, admitted all I had alleged against him; but called evidences who proved and corroborated each other in the statement, THE PASSAGE OUT. 105 that five knives were seen in my hand — that only four were observed afterwards — that no other person handled or touched the said knives — that all due search was made among the booms, lest one should have fallen down, or got into some chink ; but they all denied having seen me pocket the knife, or carry it away in my hand, or use any motion or means by which I could have con- cealed it. They admitted that I had not gone off the deck before the accusation was made, and allowed, that it was barely possible I could carry the knife away, without their seeing it: in short," the prisoner was acquitted, and I was involved and tried. " Strong in conscious innocence, I could not suppose that any one would believe me guilty. I made a most earnest defence, and endeavoured to discover the truth, by every argument and device that untutored ingenuity could suggest. I pleaded my cause naturally, and therefore powerfully; representing to the president and members the improbability that any man would venture, with numerous eyes bent on the hand in which he held the knives that he received from the person who F 5 106 THE PASSAGE OVV. had charge of them, who was also looking at him all the time thev remained in his hand, and to whom they were returned, to attempt such an act as that of which I was accused. My arguments, urged with the earnestness and dignity of truth, made a strong impression on the understanding of the court, which w^as long in coming to a decision. " In the mean time, I was kept in awful sus- pense, and my mind was in the utmost perplexity. I expected that a parade w^ould, as usual, be or- dered, the proceedings read, and the sentence promulgated; but, on the third day, as I was sitting in a melancholy state of mind OYi the poop, sometimes looking up to heaven for comfort, and sometimes wishing myself at the bottom of the blue ocean, the adjutant approached me. ' The colonel,' said he, * has directed me to communicate to you the sentence of the court- martial, of which I was president; it is, that you be reduced, and receive three hundred lashes ; but the colonel, from motives of pity and regard to your extreme youth, remits the corporal punishment.' Indignation at hearing the sen- THE PASSAGE OUT. 107 tence had kept me silent and tearless ; but grati- tude now swelled my heart, and, bursting into the colonel's cabin, and seizing his hand, I bathed it with tears. I then retired, and mixed among the crowd of beholders almost distracted. My mis- fortunes restored me, however, to favour with the worthy part of my companions ; they now remem- bered all the little kind acts I had done, and the provocation I had received for harsh ones. My inexperience was brought up as an apology for many things which had procured me ill-will ; and it was clearly seen, that a knowing-one had come the old soldier over a raw recruit." I should have compressed these details of Jen- kins's history, had they not appeared to me preg- nant with useful instruction for young adven- turers. What has been described, teaches how necessary it is, in commanding others, to mix gentleness of manner with the austerity of disci- pline. It is much safer, and much easier, to secure the obedience of man by love than by fear. The unfortunate youth, however, who may meet with adverse gales in the commencement of his trip, should never despair of overcoming fortune : f6 108 THE PASSAGE OUT. many circumstances which may appear to him destructive of his prospects, in their practical effects assist materially in filling his flowing sails, and forwarding his yiews. " From tribulation," saith the preacher, " cometh patience, from pa- tience experience, and from experience hope." In reference to the court-martial, I have to remark, tliat it warns young miUtary officers, and, indeed, all men intrusted with the administration of justice, how cautiously they should receive circumstantial evidence, and how firmly they should resist conclusions formed from surmises, which, in their effects, destroy character, blast hope, and inflict disgraceful punishment. How nobly benevolent is that maxim of English law, which says, it is better that ten guilty persons escape, than one innocent suffer. Corporal pu- nishment sinks a man in his own estimation so much, that it is a question whether the indignation arising from innocence would steel the mind with fortitude sufficient to preserve hope, after such disgrace. Twenty years' experience convinces me, that flooffjino- makes the good bad, and the bad worse. THE PASSAGE OUT. lOO Proper pride is the parent of valour, which arises from courage and reflection ; but how can a sol- dier feel proud in the thought, that one day he may be crowned with laurel, and the next have his back marked with stripes like a slave ? The school for a warrior should be one of emulation : there are, in the British army, noble rewards, and the road is open to struggling merit, even to the highest degree of rank and fame. V/hy should a candidate, deemed worthy of entertaining the highest hopes, be subject to the vilest punishment? It is assertion without argument, that our troops would be unmanageable, without a cat-o'-nine- tails in terrorem. They are men : the history of the world proves that brave men require no such treatment, and time has never produced braver soldiers than our's. I have knov/n regiments en- tirely demoralized by a system of flogging. In a particular corps that came under my observation, and which for some time bore the nick-name of the bloody regiment, the consequence of this sys- tem was, that all sense of shame was worn away, and every blackguard made it a boast of manhood that he had received thousands of lashes on his 110 THE PASSAGE OUT. back, and on the calves of his legs, nay, on the fleshy part of his thighs : he who could name the greatest number considered himself the most honourable soldier. On the other hand, I have known regiments in which a drummer had scarcely ever been subjected to the hatred of an executioner : the good men were so happily encouraged, that vice was put out of countenance, and found no refuge in opinion ; every man became a censor and a juror, an« swerable for the conduct of his comrade, and active in supporting the honour and character of his corps, A wise commanding-officer can find other punishments than the lash, when rewards and the hope of preferment fail to preserve disci- pline. He knows that a base punishment, if often resorted to, will be little dreaded : his principle of commanding is, to keep the minds and bodies of his men in a constant state of activity, agitated by hope, firm in their reliance on his justice and mercy, and certain of reward for meritorious con- duct, as well as of deserved punishment for dere- liction of duty. 1 am, however, fully aware, that in the present THE PASSAGE OtTT. Ill State of the British army it would be a hazardous experiment to abolish, totally, the punishment of the cat. The army is now under such wise regu- lations and restrictions, as to merit high praise, in comparison with a period twenty-five years ago, and it may be hoped that, in the diffusion of principles of proper pride, with education, among our gallant peasantry, a higher feeling will render corporal punishment altogether im- proper. '' I joined my regiment," continued Freeman Jenkins, " and, notwithstanding all that had hap- pened to me, I soon gained the first object of my wishes, in being advanced to the rank of a pay- serjeant. In that situation I acquitted myself well, making so much money by fair trade, that my income was half as good as my captain's. In the course of some years, I was advanced to the rank of quarter-master-serjeant, which is a post, in India, where a prudent man may feather him- self speedily. The commanding-officer has the power of throwing the cap of Fortunatus to the quarter-master when he pleases. Our colonel gave my immediate superior leave, under the rose. 112 THE PASSAGE OUT. to sell arrack to the soldiers, at any price he thought proper : I kept his canteen, and received a handsome per centage on all I sold. It is true, drunkenness was thus encouraged in the corps, but I believe the service was not injured by it; for, when soldiers have money, they will spend it ; and if we had not supplied them with good liquor, they would have been furnished with deleterious arrack by the natives, and a greater number of victims would have fallen to diseases generated by intemperance. As the quarter-master gained by this trade about one hundred pounds a month, in a few years he made a handsome independence, and went home. It was v»^hispered that he shared with the commanding-officer, but I cannot vouch for the correctness of report : I know this — he shared with me. " Meanwhile, I had conducted myself so pru- dently in the corps, that I v.as promoted to a conductorship in the commissariat department, by far the most lucrative part of the service. Our commissary knew very well what he was about : while making liis own fortune, he did not prevent us from making our's : in short, such a system of THE PASSAGE OUT. 113 downright fraud was carried on, that I began to consider myself a great rogue. It was impossible for the auditor-general to detect us. All the re- quisite certificates and documents were produced: the commissary was like the unjust steward in Scripture, he wrote one thing and said another. To illustrate this, I give you an anecdote : — " The rupee bears different values in different parts of India, so that it is necessary to announce its current price in orders. We were in the field ; all our followers were paid at a rate differ- ent from the currency, by which the commissary gained twelve per cent, on a very large sum. The paymaster of the king's regiment, with us, in- clined to be a chpper of coin, issued the rupee at the same rate to his corps ; but his surgeon, being in direct communication with the pay-office, as- certained the value at which it had been paid by government. An explosion ensued; he lost his commission as paymaster; and the commissary would certainly have been implicated, but for his address, and the manner in which the pay- master's business was hushed up. Our head ordered his native manager to assemble all the 114 THE PASSAGE OUT. followers, take the blame on himself, and stop their mouths with gold mohurs — for there was no public inquiry or court-martial on the paymas- ter, to arouse suspicion respecting the commissary. The paymaster's wife was a lovely woman, with a large family of children : to serve her, and enable her to draw pension, her husband was reported to be dead ! " But narrow escapes never deter the fox from returning : another explosion drove us all from our posts; we were ordered to the presidency, and the commissary and his native agent were arraigned, on a long list of charges, in the Re- corder's Court. Ye gods ! I think I yet hear Counsellor Macklin, the advocate-general, ad- dressing the jury ! He was a little, stout man, with a thundering voice, and his usual style of oratory was vehement enough; but when the jury acquitted the prisoners on three indictments, for want of sufficient evidence, the judge-advocate stormed so with rage, that I thought he would have battered the court-house to atoms with fu- rious blows. ' Should you acquit them,' said he, * upon this charge' — and he looked at judge and THE PASSAGE OUT. 115 jury fearfully, and retired as far as he could — * I shall respect your verdict ' — again he paused and gazed ; then running forward, he struck the desk with tremendous force — ' but I shall have the utmost contempt for your understandings.' " They did acquit them of all and every charge : but I was frightened out of health by all I heard, and, procuring a sick-certificatCj I hied home with a handsome little fortune. I found no difficulty in effecting my discharge from the service. My prospects were now good; I had acceptances on a house in London, at eighteen months' date, for £5,000; a sum fully sufficient for my wants : but, alas ! it has been often said, ' there is nothing certain ' — ^before my bills be- came due, the house in London failed, and I never recovered any part of my ill-gotten pro- perty. " My efforts to subsist in London would have been successful, if I had not met my unhappy fate; if I had not again been convicted of a crime I never committed: in short, I was positively sworn to as having been concerned in a felony I know no more of than you do. It was not in my 116 THE PASSAGE OUT. power tx) disprove imagined identity ; my asser- tions were discredited: — you seem to disbelieve me too ; nevertheless, my statement is no fiction : such things have happened, and will happen asfain." 117 W. IV. THE YOUNG OFFICER. *' If e'er my soa Follow the war, tell him it is a school Where all the principles tending to honour Are taught, if truly foUov/ed." MASSINGER. In the portfolio sent me by my friend Thought- less, there is a hiatus in his history : it is neces- sary for Tne, therefore, briefly to state that he soon rose to an ensigncy. His campaigns are de- scribed from his own journal in my "^Fifteen Years in India ;" to which I refer the reader for the particulars of his life whilst in that country, should he feel interested in the subject. Such mat- ter as his portfolio contains — such further sketches and tales respecting India as I think will afford further entertainment — such information respect- 118 THE YOUNG OmCER. ing the manners and customs of that interesting country, as may be really useful — I now submit for perusal. On my arrival in India I was much shocked by the discovery that an inveterate habit of drunkenness characterized the European soldiers. Each man receives^ two drams of spirits with his daily ration ; and many think this allowance ne- cessary for the preservation of health. Were it not fact, well-known to experience, that every opinion may find advocates in the cre- dulity or selfishness of mankind, we might won- der that the practice of stimulating Europeans, in a hot climate, with spu'its, could be now tole- rated. The climate of India requires an anti- febrile regimen : in it nothing conduces more to health than temperance. A habit of drunken- ness, however, is inevitably produced by the dis- tribution of a daily ration of arrack or rum ; the man who drinks his allowance soon feels an in- creased desire, and becomes an habitual dram- drinker. Indeed, it is this gift from Government THE YOUNG OFFICER. 119 which constitutes the great diiference between the circumstances of a private soldier in India and in England. To it may be attributed the waste of body and mind, which an observer has to lament ; for it occasions in every regiment a contraband sale of spirits, that no discipline can prevent. A drunkard will continue his intoxication till he reduces himself to the lowest state of poverty; for every morning, after his debauch, he feels, what is vulgarly called in India, " the horrors," or an indescribable longing for a fresh stimulant — " a hair of the dog that bit him." At last, when he has made away with all his necessaries, Iain for some time in the guard-house or hospital, perhaps after being flogged, he kegs, as they call it ; that is, he takes an oath not to drink a dram for a month, or some particular period ; during which he sells his allowance at a great profit to his com- rades, and refits himself. I had a full opportu- nity of seeing the eifect of this destructive practice in the first regiment I joined. It had been com- manded by an officer so ignorant of his profession, that, for a common manoeuvre, he required a card 120 THE YOUNG OFFICER. in his glove. He could, however, form the hollow square ; and, for a considerable time, the average of corporal punishment v^^as seventeen thousand lashes per mensem. Under his successor disci- pline was improved, and punishment diminished ; yet, though he was a most vigorous and excellent commanding-officer, he never could prevent the demoralizing effects which the contraband sale of liquor produced in the cor/35. Another general observation which I made, was on the almost total want of religious instruction afforded to the troops ; for the Sabbath was never noticed, except by hoisting the flag at head-quar- ters. Such inattention to the spiritual welfare of the soldiery is much to be deplored. In short, the only clergyman I saw for five years, was one who attempted to cut his own throat. He was in the habit, when a friend called to see him, of shutting his door, ordering his boy to bring a pair of pistols and six bottles of wine, and of then • ffivinff a choice of two evils to the visitor. It mav 00 • be said, that, as a bishop now presides over the church-establishment in India, the duties of religion are, cff course, duly performed. Since THE YOUNG OFFICER. 121 that dignitary went out to Calcutta, however, armies with which I served have been in the field for two years, and I never saw the face of a reve- rend gentleman, or heard the word of God preached in camp. Europeans, in the interior of India, are, in fact, more likely to become Hin- doos than to continue Christians ; if there be any truth in the observation, that what is frequently submitted to the eye makes an impression on the mind. I was at first amazed at all I saw ; but familia- rity, by degrees, blunted the edge of surprise ; and I imperceptibly slided into that state of mind suited to my new manner of life. Man is a crea- ture of imitation; and, if he possess not some rare peculiarities, he will follow the allurements of example. I was fond of literary pursuits, and to that fondness I attribute my not sinking into the state of those around me. Notwithstanding all I have said, the British army is, even in the luxurious East, a school in which every thing may be learned, not only tend- ing to honour, but to the perfection of man. From the officers I derived the advantage of a VOL. I. G 122 THE YOUNG OFFICER. circulating library; from the band I acquired a proficiency in music ; among the keggers I found an under-graduate from Oxford, who imbued me with classical erudition; and in the adjutant I discovered a sound mathematician, who often wasted the midnight lamp over the data of Euclid, and who possessed a scientific knowledge of his profession. Profound peace, for a long time after my arrival in India, shed a slutnber over the vast extent of Hindostan. The Marquis of Wellesley, with almost magic influence, had waved the wand of talent over the boisterous ocean of eastern poli- tics, and quieted the storm which threatened to drive the Albion from the shores of Brahma, never more to return with hostile banner. That statesman had gone home, to reinforce the host of able men around the throne of his sove- reign ; but the salutary effects of his administra- tion, ill-understood by the capacities which suc- ceeded him, were soon evident, in the happy security of life and property which universally prevailed. I changed quarters with my coi'ps around the Carnatic ; and in every spot the THE YOUNG OFFICER. 123 scenes of British glory met my eye, and awoke recollections which here called forth the expres- sion of an exulting and admiring heart, and there excited the flowing tear to fall on the illustrious dead. In one district, Lawrence roused the soul ; in another, Baillie sank the spirit into a melan- choly so deep, that Coote and Clive were for- gotten. At Trichinopoly — a place rendered me^ morable by the siege it sustained against the French and their allies from 1751 to 1755, im- mortalizing the names of Lawrence, Clive, Kil- patrick, and Dal ton — I remained a considerable time. " There," said the adjutant, " is Golden-Rock, so famous for the victory gained over the French in 1753, by Major Lawrence, with only 380 Eu- ropeans, and 500 sepoys. You see the strength of that position?" continued he, extending his arm towards it. " It is a natural fortress," answered I, survey- ing it attentively. " The French grenadiers and sepoys crowned it with their bayonets. Behind was drawn up, under Monsieur Astruc, one of the finest batta- G 2 124 THE YOUNG OFFICER. lions in the service of his royal master, far supe- rior in numbers to the British regiment. His artillery, from the right and left, were firing on the English, supported by the whole Mysore army ranged at a little distance, and the Mah- ratta cavalry, who were capering with their long spears and targets, and occasionally making charges on our flanks, to intimidate and create confusion." " And how did Major La^vTence act under such extraordinary circumstances ?" said I. " In the centre of his small square, from which his cannon vomited terror," replied my instructor, " he was surrounded by his officers. ' Let us charge them,' said this gallant soldier. — 'Huzza!' was the reply. — ' My lads,' continued he, ' I will give you a fair knock at the Frenchmen on the plain.' His grenadiers charged the rock, without returning the fire levelled at them, while the Major wheeled round the foot of it, and formed line on the left flank of the French. The brave As true now saw his troops precipitated from the rock, and received a volley within pistol-shot from the British grenadiers and a support of sepoys THE YOUNG OFFICER. 125 that followed them, from its summit. He there- fore wheeled away ; and, to his astonishment, saw the English line*within twenty paces of him with ported arms. Struck with consternation, his troops fired a volley, and received our bayonets, charged with three huzzas ! They fled in the ut- most confusion, nor ever returned to face their pursuers, who seized their guns and ammunition- carts. The Mahrattas made a gallant effort to cover their retreat, and pushed several charges up to our very bayonets ; but they were unable to throw a single platoon into disorder ; and, cut down with grape, they at length drew off to the Mysoreans, who stood stupified with amazement, leaving Ballapah, brother-in-law to Morari Row, among the numerous dead on the field. Major Lawrence remained two hours under the rock, and placed his wounded in slings; then formed a square, and, with his eight field-pieces in the angles, prepared to march towards Trichinopoly." " And was he permitted to do so unmolested?" said I. " He had not marched far across the plain, when ten thousand Mahratta and Mysore ca-r g3 126 THE YOUNG OFFICER. valry were seen galloping to charge him. The sight was terrific, and must have appalled any but veterans. They halted, and reserved their grape- shower till the enemy came close up. The front ranks were on their knees, and protected by a forest of bayonets; then the artillery opened at the rate of ten shots in a minute from each gun, like a continued roar of astounding thunder. For an instant, as it were, the effect was mute and motionless astonishment; but, finding that light- ning assailed them, and seeing each other drop like rain, they went to the right-about, and gal- loped out of range in confusion. Thus was Trichinopoly saved by one of the most gallant enterprizes recorded in the annals of war; an enterprize which ought to teach a soldier to con- sider nothing impossible to courage and address : he should strike boldly when required, though, to a common eye, the result might seem hopeless as that of attempting to force the Andes from tlieir base." Opposite to Trichinopoly is the famous island of Seringham, formed by a separation of the river Caveri into two branches, one of which, by a pro- THE YOUNG OFFICER. 127 digious mound near the eastern end of the island, is diverted into channels to irrigate the province of Tanjore. Trichinopoly continued to be a Hindoo principality till 1736. An usurper, named Chunda Saheeb, then got possession of it by treachery ; from him it was taken by the Mah- rattas in 1741 ; but soon afterwards it was conquered by Nizam ul Muluck, and in 1749 Mahommed Ali, Nabob of the Carnatic, came into its possession by inheritance. During all this time the celebrated pagodas on Seringham were held sacred by the Mahometans; and when the French besieged it in 1751, they occupied the outer enclosures, but never violated the inner temples; though the French army was attacked here by Major Lawrence, and compelled to sur- render, after unsuccessful efforts made to keep possession of the plain. The force consisted of 843 Europeans, 2000 sepoys, and 44 pieces of cannon. The wall round the Seringham Pagoda is four miles in circumference, built of stone and lime, with four great gates. Within are six other enclosures, at the distance of 350 feet from each other, all perfectly square, with high gates facing G 4 128 THE YOUNG OFFICER. the four cardinal points; and the walls are all about twenty-five feet high and four thick. In the inner enclosure is the sacred and amazing pile, in the pyramidal form, rising to a great height, and occupying nearly all the square. It is in the most ancient Egyptian style of architec- ture, covered with sculpture, and composed of massy stones, some of them forty feet long and six feet thick. There is another pagoda about half a mile to the eastward of Seringham, called Jembikisma, which would be a wonder also, were it not so much surpassed by the one on the island. No records ascertain the time when these stupendous works were constructed; consequently imagination is left to its exercise, and the priests have fabricated the most monstrous accounts. Thousands of them are here supported by the revenues arising from pilgrimages. It was on the march from Arcot that I passed the famous Perimbancum, where Colonel Baillie was defeated, on the 10th of September, 1T80, by Tippoo Saib. " There," said my mentor, " is the memorable spot. Hyder Alii, w^ith an army of one hundred THE YOUNG dFFICER. 129 thousand men, organized by the scientific Mon- sieur Lally, was encamped between Sir Hector Munro, who commanded the Madras army, and Colonel Baillie, who was approaching with about 2,000 sepoys from the northern Sircars. Upon the arrival of Baillie near the hostile camps, Hyder Alii detached his son, Tippoo, Meer Saib, and Lally, with 14,000 infantry, 18,000 cavalry, and twelve field-pieces to attack him. They were bravely repulsed ; and Sir Hector Munro, aware of Colonel Baillie's danger (for a communication had taken place after the first attack) sent Colo- nel Fletcher with considerable reinforcements. That officer, by a very masterly night-march, joined him at a critical moment, and augmented his force, which then consisted of about 4,000 fighting men, 800 of whom were Europeans, and ten pieces of cannon. But Hyder Alii had now increased the attacking-army to 50,000, with fifty- seven field-pieces." " And did Baillie stand against such num- bers?" " He continued his march in a square, with noble resolution, and those under him fought G 5 130 THE YOUNG OFFICER. with bravery ; but the fortune of war was against them, for, their tumbrils having been blown up, and their cannon silenced, the cavalry made charges up to the bayonets, and pierced them with their long spears. Emboldened by the num- bers that fell under every charge, and excited to perseverance by the presence of their warlike prince, the enemy returned continually to face the danger from which they had before so often shrunk with dismay. When man learns to look upon what he fears, he begins to despise it. Their cavalry at length pressed close upon us, and hacked away with their sabres, till our little square was reduced to a skeleton. Six hundred Europeans now lay lifeless, and so many sepoys, that the dead formed a sort of rampart round the living, when Colonel Baillie surrendered, upon a promise that he should receive honourable treat- ment, and that his men were to be prisoners of war; but no sooner had they laid down their arms, than their merciless conquerors cut in among them, and in cold blood butchered the brave remains of this gallant detachment. Colo- nel Baillie, Captain Baird, and those who sur- THE YOUNG OFFICER. I3l vived their wounds, were carried to the fortress of Seringapatam, where the brave Baillie, it is said, was poisoned. The gallant (now Sir David) Baird was, after unparalleled sufferings for several years in the dungeons of the capital of Mysore, restored to his profession, almost the only survivor of that terrible defeat."* ♦ I do not know how many oflScers still survive who were taken with Colonel Baillie ; but a great number of British officers who surrendered with General Matthews, and who were taken in action by Hyder Alii and his son, were long kept in the dungeons of Seringapatam ; and it is a curious fact that they returned to the army in perfect health. Now, all they had to live on was a hand- ful of rice each, every day, with water. Does not this prove the happy effects of temperance and abstemiousness in a hot climate ? Sir JamesMacgregor, in his lectures on surgery^ has noticed this fact with his usual felicity. It appears, that when these officers were taken, many of them laboured under liver complaints ; they had also re- ceived horrible wounds ; yet, upon getting back to their regiments, after years of confinement in a dungeon, living all the time on rice and water, they found themselves higli in rank by the death of their brethren, who had cheered themselves with good old madeira, claret, champaign, and brandy, together with all the variety of a groaning table. Mark, learn, and inwardly digest this, if you go to India. g6 132 THE YOUNG OFFICER. " And, good God !" exclaimed I, " could not Sir Hector Munro have formed a junction with Colonel Baillie, instead of sending a detachment under Colonel Fletcher ?" " He might have done better," replied the ad- jutant; "for v^^hen he heard the first cannon fired by Baillie, if he had attacked Hyder AUi, he would have saved the detachment and gained a glorious victory. The brave Baillie, stimulated by the roar of his artillery, would have pressed •^ forward upon the rear of his army, and the My- soreans would have been destroyed in the terror produced by their imagination ; but Munro was too cautious, and without that grandeur of soul which knows the important moment when all is to be risked to win the game. To a timid and hesitating soldier every thing is impossible, be- cause it appears so." Thus do young adventurers acquire materials for profound reflections upon the art of war; which is only a trade to the common observer, while to genius it presents a boundless sphere for the range of human intellect. Indeed, a British regiment, in any part of the THE YOUNG OFFICER. 133 world, displays to a man fond of contemplation, a variety of subjects for the useful exercise of thought. He has under his eye a concentration, of society : high hfe and low, vice and virtue, poverty and wealth, vanity and pride, folly and wisdom, pass in review. He may reflect with profit on the beautiful order of a well-regulated corps : what a fine chain of subordination, from , the commanding officer down to the pioneer ! what harmony ! w^hat mutual dependance ! He may fortify his mind against all the mutations of rank and fortune, by perusing the lives of the officers and men of a regiment. What an inte- resting volume of vicissitude might be produced in every corps ! In the ranks men are sometimes found who have figured in elevated stations; and among the officers may be individuals who have risen on the wing of merit from nought, or been favourites of lucky circumstance. What an en- tertaining study it is to trace rank back to its origin : descending, I have found that my Colone once wore a thimble, and handled needles and shears, instead of the brave epaulettes he then sported, and the honourable sword with which 134 THE YOUNG OFFICER. danger had been faced and glory gained by him since he sat cross-legged as a tailor ; and ascend- ing, I have discovered in the drunken private soldier the son of an earl, who had once been the delight of a royal court, and the theme of ladies' praises. Our major had been originally a stable- boy, whose fortune was made by a wager which the general, his master, laid with a friend, that he would make an excellent officer. The following sketches, from reality, will prove what I have asserted in description. ENSIGN THE HON. C. T The Hon. Charles T was the fourth son of the wealthy Earl W . He was educated at Oxford. Wlien I knew him as an ensign, he was about forty-five years of age ; his person was the wreck of one v/ho had once possessed strength and beauty. How changed ! He was an ema- ciated, nervous, tottering invalid; his mind had sunk to the level of his body : the one was weak, the other vapid. He had not sufficient retention or tenacity of brain to remember in the evening what happened in the morning. His intellect was THE YOUNG OFFICER. 135 not deranged, but it had evaporated ; he had no reflective powers ; his proper pride was gone ; he would associate and intoxicate himself with pri- vate soldiers : in short, he had brutified himself by debauchery, which pampers the noble facul- ties of man but for destruction. When he had not a glass of strong brandy-and-water, which he called a stiffener, before him, he was perhaps the most miserable of mankind. I traced his history, and find it briefly this : — His father was indulgent, even to an excess of blind fondness ; he supplied his prodigality with dangerous fuel, taking the blaze his folly made for the transient flame of youthful spirit. Indi- cative, however, as that flame was in Prince Henry, of the fermentation of a great mind, it should not be relied on as a criterion. In the Hon. Charles T the consequence of its ap- pearance was the destruction of a father's hope. On being introduced into life, he adopted all the fashionable follies of the noble circle in which for- tune had placed him. He was fleeced at. gaming- tables; outwitted on the turf; but he solaced himself with outshining the bucks of St. James's. 136 THE YOUNG OFFICER. At length, the purse of his father was touched too deeply : Charles was restricted to a moderate allowance ; but he lived in dashing style whilst credit lasted. He fluttered at Queen Charlotte's drawing-rooms, and appeared the gayest of the gay at every assembly. His debts in a short time became formidable ; but a public situation, to which the interest of his father procured his appointment, quieted apprehension, and those who had trusted him lived in hope. His irregularity and devotion to pleasure, hovr- ever, rendered him totally unfit for business ; but just as he was on the point of losing his post, his aunt, old Lady Mary T , died. His brothers were well provided for ; and he being her godson and favourite, she left him the bulk of her large fortune. If he had not been the victim of habit, he might now have considered himself independent of the vi- cissitudes of fortune. Wliat do I say! — he might, in reality, have been so : but he lost, on a sum- mer's evening, £20,000 in a wager with a noble gamester, that one fly would sit longer on the table than another ; and the remainder of Ladv THE YOUNG OFFICER. IST Mary^s legacy, risked with equal folly, was lost with equal celerity. It would be tedious to fol- low the Hon. Charles T through the course of his life. He who has powerful friends, what- ever his own folly may be, does not sink easily. Many a situation was obtained for him by inter- cession with power, and accorded to interest, which the industrious and sober man of merit looked for in \^ain. What chance and birth pro- vided for him, however, he could not hold. At last, he forced every one to desert him, or he deserted every one; for he changed his name, and enlisted. In the regiment to -which he belonged, as a private soldier in India, there was not, it is said, a greater blackguard. But he was recognized by the governor of Bombay, who had known him in a high political situation several years before; and, in the hope that experience had tauojht him to value the blessinojs of rank and respectability, a commission was obtained for him. Vain hope ! The Hon. Charles T was lost ! He could not associate with the offi- cers of the corps ; his delight was to get into the barracks. To end his eventful and mournful 138 THE YOUNG OFFICER. history, he went home on a sick certificate ; being drunk, on going ashore in London, he fell down the side of the ship, and was drowned before as- sistance could be rendered. Such were the life and death of a man born to rank and fortune. It has been asserted, that it is more conducive to happiness to be the arti- ficer of wealth, than to have it ready made ; and the story of the Hon. Charles T seems a con- firmation of the good old saying. PRIVATE M. F. M . Michael was descended from an ancient Irish family of great respectability. He was the second son of a merchant, who had been so fortu- nate in his exports and imports as to purchase an estate and retire from 'Change, to enjoy the otium cum dignitate of rural retirement. Having a strong predilection for a red coat, his father purchased a commission for ^him ; and in a few years he rose to a company with credit. At one time fortune seemed to shower her favours upon him. His promotion had been ra- pid. He looked forward with most pleasing ex- THE YOUNG OFFICER. 139 pectation to his union with a lovely girl, to whom he had been long attached ; and he had become his father's heir by the death of his elder brother. In consequence of this change in his prospects he sold out, and returned home from the West Indies. In the interim, his only surviving brother, a counsellor, had become acquainted with a young lady of considerable fortune in England, and made such an impression upon her heart, as pro- mised him the speedy consummation of his wishes. He had represented himself to her father as pos- sessed of an estate in Ireland ; and the old gentle- man, in preparing the marriage-settlement for his daughter, expressed some anxiety to see the do- cuments. In consequence of this wish, the coun- sellor wrote to his father, representing his good fortune, and requesting him to make over by deed the title of his estate to him, in order that he might satisfy the doubts of the lady's father ; promising to reconvey the same after the mar- riage. The father immediately complied, and the counsellor became possessed of his wife's for- tune ; but when his father applied for a deed of 140 THE YOUNG OFFICER. reconveyance, he answered, that he had not studied law to deprive himself of property. His father soon after died, never dreaming that his younger son would make use of the deed, and concluding that Michael, on his return, would succeed to the family wealth and honours. As soon, however, as the old man's body was deposited in the ground, the lawyer took posses- sion of his estate. What was the surprise of Michael ! He offered to share the whole pro- perty with the lawyer, who pleaded that he was a married man, with a young family : he begged that it might be submitted to arbitration. This was flatl}^ refused. He accused his brother of injustice, and called him to an account, ac- cording to the code of honour. The lawyer met him before a magistrate, where he was bound over to keep the peace. Michael then entered an ac- tion, and soon expended all he was worth in law- expenses. In the course of the suit, the la\\yer's agent, in making some searches as to title, dis- covered that neither of the brothers had any right to the property ; it belonged, by entail, to a la- bouring man, whom the attorney well knew. THE YOUNG OFFICER. 141 - To him he went, and said : — " What will you give me, Tom, if I give you five thousand a-y ear?" The man of the spade stared and laughed in his face, thinking his hoiirour not in earnest at all, at all ; but, in short, the agent made his own bar- gain, and the whole property, lost for ever to Michael and his unjust brother, reverted, by this accidental discovery, to the legal heir, whose idea of wealth had been confined within one hundred a-year, and whose ambition had never exceeded the wish of possessing a few acres of land. The agony of Michael's mind may be con- ceived. I will not attempt describing what he felt, on finding himself reduced to absolute want ; his prospects blasted in the army, and his hopes blighted in love ; for the fickle fair one, during his long absence, had transferred her affections to another; and, before he lost his property, he had the mortification to see that he was re- nounced. As to his vile brother, he was attacked by remorse, and in a fit of despair hanged him- self. All these dreadful occurrences were too much for the fortitude of Michael. It is asserted 142 THE YOUNG OFFICER. that his hair turned grey, and that intense think- ing on his misfortunes disordered his brain. I need not follow him through the wild and desolate scenes of self-abandonment, which re- duced him to the private ranks of the army, and at length placed him in an hospital for insanity. CAPTAIN S Captain S was one of the most respec- table old warriors in our corps. He looked the colonel so well, that he was often taken for com- manding-officer. His flowing silver hair deco- rated a manly front, on which Valour had placed her stamp. The fire of his quick eye was not quenched; vigorous expression characterized his fine features; and a wound, which in a charge of cavalry he had received whilst bravely defend- ing his front in square, gave veteran-like dignity to his face. From right even to left of his com- pany, from centre to flanks of the regiment, he was beloved for every endearing quality. He had been thirty-three years present with the corps in various climates; several times he had seen THE YOUNG OFFICER. 143 his regiment a skeleton. By the officers he was called " Old Hannibal," because the wound on his face, at a little distance, made him appear as though he had lost an eye : the soldiers distin- guished him by the significant appellation of " The Captain." Yet Captain S , a model that even the noblest soldier might not disdain to form himself upon, was the son of a poor Lurgan weaver, His history is full of instruction. S , when a boy, received no education at school; but his parents had instructed him in the principles of religion and morality. His fa- ther had a very large family ; and, in an hour of distress, he wished for three guineas, adding, th^t such a sum would make him quite happy. The next market-day S was a soldier, and his father in possession of his bounty. On join- ing his regiment, he was distinguished for pro- priety of conduct, for spirited behaviour, and zeal in the performance of every duty. In short, al- though he could neither read nor write, in the course of a few years he was one of the most useful non-commissioned officers in the corps. During the latter part of the American war, he. 14>4> THE YOUNG OFFICER. distinguished himself on several occasions bv great presence of mind and bravery in action. In one unfortunate affair he covered the colours when all the officers near the centre had been killed or wounded : the regiment was broken, and the loss of the colours deplored by the command- ing officer ; but, behold ! they had found a screen from the searching enemy in the wounded body of Serjeant S . He was discovered, after the action, almost dead from loss of blood, with the honour of the corps near his heart. His commanding-officer was fully sensible of his great merit; but he knew how improper it would be to recommend an uneducated man for a commission. He and the officers of the corps expressed their high sense of S 's gallant conduct, offered him a considerable pecuniary reward, which was respectfully declined, and promoted him to the rank of serjeant-major by the first opportunity. In this useful situation he accompanied the regiment on its being ordered to India. Being a man of strong sense and great industry, he now aspired at supplying the deficiency of his youth THE YOUNG OFFICER. J45 By continued application and most praiseworthy perseverance, he learned to read correctly, to write a fine hand — he even acquired a knowledge of English grammar ; and, in time, became libe- rally conversant with Latin and French. In short, he was found to be a good scholar, well read in history and science, with a mind ennobled by all those truly elevating traits which characte- rize the military profession. He was mild in manners and gentlemanlike in deportment. Hav- ing again distinguished himself on several trying occasions, he was promoted to an ensigncy, and appointed adjutant, which essential post he held for several years ; performing all its duties to the satisfaction of different commanding officers, the benefit of the service, and his own honour. At length promotion to a company deprived the corps of his exertions as adjutant; but for many a year he was a bright example as " Old Hannibal," and " The Captain." Meanwhile, this worthy man provided for a numerous family. His daughters were lovely, and their brothers were brave among the brave. It has been said, that no mortal is truly happy VOL. I. H 146 THE YOUNG OFFICER. till he is no more : Captain S is, then, com- pletely blessed ; the perfume of his name remains behind him. I think I still feel the swelling emotion of my heart, as his coffin passed mourn- fully between our ranks, the day we laid liis body in the peaceful grave. I think I see every veteran of the regiment leaning his cheek on the butt of his musket, with a tear streaming down it. But I must leave off blubbering : the subject is really too affecting for me. I left his grave with a sigh, and the conviction that real merit Jiad returned to dust. "Ah !" said I to myself, " thou art a proof, that in the school of the British army every thing may be learned." 14T CALCUTTA " O Luxury I Bane of elated life, of affluent states, What dreary change, what ruin is not thine ? How doth thy bowl intoxicate the mind, To the soft entrance of thy rosy cave !" DYER. The mornings and evenings are delightful in Calcutta after the monsoon. This crisis of na- ture cools the fever of the atmosphere ; and as the healthful blood plays through the veins of a convalescent, so does the renovated air flow cheerfully towards the source of light. On one of these fine mornings (14th October, 1813) the pale tinge of day, peeping from the east, revealed a congregated human mass, anxious to witness the landing of the Marquis of Hastings at Champal Ghaut. A fine military line was H 2 148 CALCUTTA. formed from the river to the front entrance of the government-house; and the native battalions, intermixed with the Europeans, formed an inte- resting sight. There were crowds of Hindoos and Mahommedans ; the river was covered with decorated ships, barges, and boats; and, as far as the roving eye could reach, the roads were thronged with carriages. At length the guns of Fort William announced the approach of our new Governor- General ; and the state barges, glittering beneath the rays of the rising sun, in gold and purple, glided towards the ghaut, where the members of council, com- mander-in-chief, and all the local authorities were ready to receive the celebrated Moira, and to con- duct him and his lovely Countess, with military pomp, to the government-house. His Lordship was met on the magnificent flight of steps leading to it by Lord Minto, and received with ceremony aiid respect. Tall and majestic, the Marquis of Hastings makes a lasting impression on every beholding eye. In his firm step we hear fortitude; in his friendly smile we see benevolence ; and his dark, CALCUTTA. 141^ bright eye conveys to feeling the flash of valour. His flowing black hair fell carelessly on his manly features, and gave a fine shade to his face, as though, at some remote period, a deep wound had been inflicted on his cheek. He was dressed in the full uniform of a general ; and nothing was ever seen in India more splendid in its appear- ance than his fine suite. Elegant in symmetry of form and aspect, the Countess of Loudon shone forth the mother of loveliness; and the Hindoos, having heard her Ladyship's universal fame for benevolence and charity, gazed on her with that rapturous delight with which their forefathers are fabled to have •received the Goddess Gunga, w^hen she rose all beautiful from the sacred river to relieve their distresses* There is, in the resignation of power, some- what that excites pity : we behold him who was the centre of attraction, almost forsaken when divested of that patronage round which crowds liad fluttered. Lord Minto, after remaining some time at Calcutta, departed, carrying with him no H 8 150 CALCUTTA. regret, all hope having been turned to his Lord- ship's great successor. On the arrival of the Marquis of Hastings and Countess of Loudon, pleasure and luxury were drained for their welcome. Splendid entertain- ments followed each other in rapid succession ; and night after night Calcutta was radiant with illumination. The free-masons greeted their grand-master with a ball and supper in Moore's rooms, which were on the occasion converted into a scene resembling fairy-land. Their noble guests reached the point of attraction through an avenue of artificial fire. The universal blaze re- flected the admiring countenances of groups of Hindoos, whose costume and bearded faces im- parted romantic life to the whole. Supper was laid out in a vast square, made to represent an Indian grove. Lofty palms waved over head their long stems, circled with wreaths of roses. A fine artificial sky finished the scenic deception, in wdiich the full moon and stars were seen re- splendent. Beneath all this earthly grandeur the noble guests were seated, surrounded by the CALCUTTA. 151 beauty and fashion of the presidency ; and they circulated joy and happiness with the glass, while song and music gladdened the heart. This display of that exultation which all classes felt, upon the occasion of an arrival so auspi- cious, was returned at the government-house by magnificent fetes ; and the fastidiousness which had long characterized the society of the Indian metropolis melted away beneath the enchanting affability of the Countess of Loudon. Previously to her benign appearance, harmony had been de- stroyed by the rivalship of two great ladies ; one belonging, as she thought, to a superior rank in life, and the other fully entitled, in her own opinion, to the highest honours that wealth, beauty, and elegance could challenge. The former was the wife of an old civilian, then at the sum- mit of his hope ; she was a prodigious personage, both in size and importance, without any just pretensions to that exclusive homage which she claimed. Her rival was a great merchant's lady, elegant in figure and accomplished, but with pride and ambition enough to set the world in H 4 152 CALCUTTA. arms. These queens had for a long time waged a war of extravagance, which they fondly hoped would be to each other extermination. The four quarters of the globe were visited for whatever could stimulate appetite, gratify delicacy, or at- tract admiration. The baleful influence of such division was, however, arrested by the attention paid at the government-house to all classes of the inhabitants, whose talent and respectability contributed to the" essential interest of Britain's weal. Another rivalship, not unworthy of notice, ex- isted at this time in Calcutta between the Chou- ringhee theatre and the Athenaeum. The latter was the property of an individual who had erected it in the hope of reaping a rich harvest from the speculation; but he had scarcely finished his estpensive attraction, when the other was pitted against him by subscription. Each depended upon the gratuitous aid of amateur performers ; and the respective managers, on the arrival of a new Governor-General, &c. marshalled their dramatic corps^ with high expectation, to greet CALCUTTA. 153 Lady Loudon with the tear and smile of Mel- pomene and Thalia. As a lover of the drama I was solicited by both parties, and attended the rehearsals at the Athenaeum for the tragedy of Hamlet. The proprietor, on these occasions, had supper-parties ; and one evening deserves to be sketched. We had all taken our seats round the supper- table, which groaned under the luxuries of the East. The bright eyes of many a lady fair were attracted to the rich ices and fantastic ornaments that graced the centre of the shining board ; when an officer, belonging to a native regiment, ad- dressed some conversation to a gentleman's sister, which was resented. The ruffian,who wore the garb that ought to be seen only on a perfect gentle- man, had been sent in disgrace from his regi- ment; but as the circumstances were unknown at the presidency, he gained admission to society on the good faith of the profession to which he belonged. Offended at the very proper in- terference of the gentleman whose sister he had insulted, he rose from table, and requested H 5 154 CALCUTTA. to Speak with the young civilian, who accom- panied him into the veranda. In a moment we heard a crash; the ladies screamed; and, upon our gaining the veranda, we beheld the two com- batants struggling on the ground, at the bottom of the flight of steps leading up to the Athenaeum. The officer was an athletic powerful man, and had his antagonist under him. We flew to his assistance; and fortunately, upon being rescued, he was able to return up the stairs, when his sister and wife, seeing him covered with blood, fainted. But the ruffian who had abused him was not satis- fied; for, disengaging himself from our grasp, he drew a dagger from his bosom, swore that he would plunge it in the breast of him who dared to stop his way, and instantly rushed in among the terri- 'fied ladies. The young man whom he pursued escaped out of a back door ; and, some of the gen- tlemen placing themselves with chairs between the assailant and his intended victim, he was ar- rested in his progress, and his fury was turned upon us. In the mean time, the ladies who had fainted were carried into another room, and one CALCUTTA. 155 of the servants had called the runners, or police. These useful natives, armed with cutlasses and targets, dashed into the apartment; and, pres- sing round the monster, pinioned his arms, and made him a prisoner, when he was conveyed to the lock-up-house, whence he was not released till he embarked for Europe, deprived of the rank which he unworthily held in the Company's army. The Chouringhee amateurs had by this time announced one of Shakspeare's best tragedies, and the Countess had accepted their invitation. I did not fail on that night to part with my gold mohur, about £2 sterling, for a ticket; and, ac- companied by Hamlet and Horatio, procured seats in a very crowded house. The theatre is truly creditable to the taste of those under whose superintendence it arose : suited to a climate where the free circulation of cool air is ab- solutely necessary, it is lofty; the accommoda- tions for an audience consisting only of a pit, with a semicircle of boxes rising one above the other, around, from the front of the stage. Tlie h6 156 CALCUTTA. Governor-General's box was exactly opposite the drop-scene ; its approach was through a broad avenue, from the front entrance to the piazza, to which a magnificent flight of steps led. Here the tout-ensemble of the house broke on the eye with a very fine effect, all glittering with gold, silver, and scarlet. Over the Governor's seat was suspended a fine punkoe, or large fan, which produced an agreeable current of air. The Countess was greeted with poetical compliments in a well-written prologue ; and the performance was such as commanded her Ladyship's entire approbation. Some of the amateurs conceived that Hamlet and Horatio had come to quiz them, and to collect materials for criticism in the papers. Every change of countenance and expression on their part was therefore construed into insult; and they received a written notice from the managers, next morning, never more to enter the doors. Considering this as a high stretch of arbitrary power, and contrary to the principles of justice, they lodged an information at the chief- magistrate's office, and summonses were in con- CALCUTTA. 157 sequence issued for all the parties to attend his Worship. On the day appointed, the magistrate's office was crowded to suffocation. His Worship was a short man, wdth a good full-bottomed wig, from which there was a flowing tail that swaggered on his black gown, and proclaimed his importance behind his back ; while the look he cast around fully conveyed his assumption of all magisterial honours to that part of his auditory immediately before him. Having made a long speech, for no chamber-barrister was ever fonder of hearing himself talk, he proceeded to business ; and, after explaining the law of the case, he decided that the notice was illegal, and tended to disturb the peace of India. A compromise was, therefore, proposed; but Hamlet insisted that a public apology should be made from the stage. At length a written one was tendered in the office, and accepted by the aggrieved parties, in which their right of attending the Chouringhee theatre on all public occasions was fully admitted; and we left the office with flying colours. Strict impartiality seems to have characterized the chief 158 CALCUTTA. magistrate's decision upon the present occasion ; but it was generally believed that he leaned to the strong side, and that his friendship had been secured by good dinners and sweet morsels. Fame, or evil report, says, that a Yan- kee once had an unpleasant affair before his Wor- sliip ; and, finding that the matter was likely to go against him, he requested permission to im- part some private information to the magistrate. A chamber was at hand. — " Your Worship," said Jonathan, "what I had to say is this: — I have some excellent old madeira on board, and it is my intention to send your lordship a pipe of it this evening." Upon returning to court, the examination was resumed, and the matter ap- pearing in favour of the American captain, he was freed from his embarrassing situation, and tlie wine was accordingly sent. The sly Yankee had yet another card to play: previ- ously to his departure he tendered a bill for payment, which made the tail of the magis- trate's wig thump his collar. It was paid, how- ever, without demur, and Jonathan boasted of his success in disposing of part of his invest- CALCUTTA. 159 ment, notwithstanding the depreciated state of the markets. When I returned home, I found the curricle of a Mahommedan nobleman at my door, who was making the round of his European acquain- tances, for the purpose of inviting them to a champaign-party at his garden-house. Mirzee Alii Kaun was in person majestic and prepos- sessing, and in manners free and easy. He spoke English fluently, and had some pretensions to literature ; but he was a hon vivant, and had the vanity to think himself high in the favour of European ladies. He wore a Persian military hat, trimmed with gold, English jockey-boots, and a purple velvet frock, fastened by a diamond button. His complexion was a light brown, and his beard of the most fashionable cut. Gold pendants ornamented his ears, and a costly pearl collar, with emerald clasps, glittered on his neck, while the richest shawl of Cashmere served him for a sash; and his trowsers, over which he wore the boots, were of gold kincob. Having accepted his polite invitation to dinner, and talked of the news of the day, he cracked 160 CALCUTTA. his whip and departed ; and at the appointed time, I presented myself at his elegant garden- house. It was surrounded by beautiful groves of fruit- trees, and situated on the margin of a fine tank, which watered the lawns and parterres in the vicinity. The house was a square, presenting four fronts, two stories high, with a terraced roof, and a fine railing round the top. An open veranda, supported by pillars, encircled each story, and imparted to the whole an airy and delightfully cool appearance. Mirzee AlH re- ceived me at the door, and handed me into a spacious sitting-room, where several of his mili- tary and civil guests were already seated : and, dinner being announced, we took our places at the table. The room was spacious, and lighted by a double row of chandeliers ; a large punkoe played over our heads, and the hospitable board groaned under every luxury in season. The wines were of the choicest description, and they soon produced a cheerful flow of conversation. We talked of the native governments, die laws and institutions of England, the manners and CALCUTTA. 161 customs of the Hindoos, and the glories of the Mogul empire; on all which subjects Mirzee Alii abounded with information, and defended many of the institutions in India very ably; arguing, that they were, in many respects, so well suited to notions of happiness in the East, that it would be difficult to substitute others of superior prac- tical utility. I soon discovered that he was a free-thinker, and belonged to that numerous sect of philosophers common to both the Mahomme- dans and Hindoos. As to women, he was a per- fect libertine, and kept a seraglio of beauties. No sooner had his champaign excited our youth- ful spirits, than the voluptuousness followed of an entertainment by dancing girls. These dam- sels were dressed in the gayest silks sparkling with jewels, their eye-lashes painted black, and their dark glossy hair braided up beliind with white flowers ; while their legs, arms, waists, and necks were ornamented with silver bells, pro- ducing, as they danced, an agreeable harmony with the guitars and cymbals, to which they beat time. These instruments were performed upon by old musicians, whose silver beards reminded me of the 162 CALCUTTA. ancient bards, to which caste they belonged. They accompanied their instruments with their voices ; the airs were chiefly Persian, and very agreeable. After various amorous fandangoes, and wild fi- gure-dances, love-stories from the Indian drama were recited ; and the entire night was passed so, that a disciple of the modern Epicurean school would have pronounced it heaven upon earth. I returned home, however, with a very different impression, satiated" with the poison of luxury, and disgusted with libertine manners. The next day a claret-party was given by a young civilian in the Writers' Buildings ; and I had the honour of an invitation. This youth was of a most respectable family ; but upon his ar- rival in India he fell into the unbounded extra- vagance fashionable among some of the students in the college of Fort William ; and, instead of applying himself to Sanscrit lore, he lived up to an income ten times as great as his allowance from government ; so that he was at the mercy of a set of unprincipled native agents. His party need not be sketched; it was one, in short, of folly, at that period too common in his class of CALCUTTA. 163 society. But every youth may rest assured, that the breach of such customs will be more honoured than their observance. To shun bad example, and to be temperate, abstemious, and economical, is the certain way of securing re- spect, health, and independence in every part of the world, but particularly in India. 165 N". VI. INDIA. " Nor shall this peace sleep with her ; but, as when The bird of wonder dies, the maiden phoenix, Her ashes new create another heir, As great in admiration as herself; So shall she leave her blessedness to one (When heaven shall call her from this cloud of darkness) Who, from the sacred ashes of her honour, Shall, star-like, rise as great in fame as she was, And so stand fix'd." The above lines are part of the beautiful pro- phecy pronounced over the cradle of the in- fant Princess Elizabeth, daughter of Henry the Eighth. I have placed them at the head of this brief notice of India, not inappositely ; for in the * Tliese remarks, it is hoped, contain a valuable concentration of much that has been written on India. 166 INDIA. splendid reign of that heroine, the foundation of British power in the East was laid. Peace is now smiling on the councils of our present glorious King ; education is gradually removing the ban- dages and veils of prejudice from the eves of Hin- dostan. She is beginning to perceive with amaze- ment her ov»Ti ignorance, as the first indication of improvement, which, in future times, vdW re- flect the brightest -lustre on the age of George the Fourth. India is divided bv nature into three STeat parts. Hindostan Proper extends from the mountains of Tartary to the river Nerbudda; the Deckan, thence to the river Krishna ; and the Peninsula, from the Krishna to the Indian Ocean. Westward of the great river Indus, the inhabi- tants of Baloochistan, Afghanistan, Cabul, &c. may be called Indo- Persians : they all belong to the Caucasian variety of man. Eastward of the wilds of Tipperah, which bound Bengal be- yond the river Ganges, the natives are Indo- Chinese, inhabiting Arracan, Assem, Ava, Siam, Pegu, Tunquin, &c. — all these belong to the Mongolian variety. Northward of the Hemalaya INDIA. 167 range of mountains, which rise upwards of 2^,000 feet above the level of the sea, the people are also of the Mongolian race. Southward and eastward of India, in the Islands of the Indian seas, the chief of which are Ceylon, Sumatra Java, the Sunda Chain, Borneo, Celibes, the Moluccas, Phillipines, &c., the inhabitants par- take of the nature of the races belonging to the continents near them. The Malay variety of man is very extensively diffused over these islands. What is very curious in nearly all of them, the Ethiopian variety is found, under various names, generally in a savage state. The national history of man may, therefore, be studied under great advantages in the East Indies. All the varieties of man, except the American variety, present themselves to observation in In- dia ; and the American so much resembles the Mongolian, that the naturalist has little to regret in not finding the fifth most curious and interest- ing production of creation in the garden of the East, whence men, notwithstanding all their dif- ference of colour, stature, and form, spread over the world from a single pair. 168 INDIA. That the colour of man is not caused by cli- mate, is a fact of which I have not the least doubt, notwithstanding the discordancy of philo- sophical opinion on the subject. The Jews have continued white in Malabar since the destruction of the temple: so have the Persians in Guzerat, &c. since the persecutions of Mahomet. White and black races have inhabited the same parts of the earth, and lived in each other's neighbourhood from time immemorial. The Malay and Suma- tran are as different as night and day; so are the Negro and American, so long as they intermingle not with each other. Black men, however, have been born of white parents, and white men of black ones ; and it has been found that these varieties, when once formed, reproduce them- selves. The cause of this, as of many other daily phenomena, is above our comprehension. Heredi- tary diseases are transmitted from parents to children ; so are the quills of the porcupine in the porcupine family of England; so are the six fingers and toes in some families of Europe ; so are the colours of hair and eyes, &c. — These are curious facts within general observation. INDIA. 169 The Hindoos are all of the Caiicassian variety ; their organization is the same as ours ; their fore- head is equally expanded : some of them are as black as Ethiopians; others nearly as fair as Europeans. The Tiers of Malabar are like many sallow- complexioned Europeans; their imme- diate neighbours, the Nears, are very black. There are so many shades and variations in the colour and language of the inhabitants of India, that no general description can be given. It has been ascertained by laborious research, that the Hindoos consist of ten different nations, who spoke originally ten distinct languages, from which all the dialects of the country are de- rived. India lies between the eighth and thirty-fifth degrees of north latitude, and the seventy-second and ninety-second of east longitude, and compre- hends an area of about 1,020,000 geographical square miles ; its climate and natural history are very curious. On the sea-coasts there is every day an alternate change of the wind, from and towards the ocean, called the land and sea breeze; but in the interior the monsoons change onl}- VOL. I. I 170 INDIA. every six months, that is, the wind blows with little variation from south and north alternately. Owing to the variations of the compass, these mon- soons are called the south-east and north-west, as they appear to approach from these quarters. The former prevails during the wet season, and the latter in the dry : the rainy period, however, continues in one place never more than three months ; for the e-vaporation from the southern ocean ceases in that time, and the clouds, impreg- nated with rain, are carried gradually over the face of the country, to restore thirsty nature to life and beauty. The rains commence along the Malabar coast in May, with frightful storms, astounding explosions of thunder, and fearful lightnings ; but the clouds are turned northward by a high chain of mountains called the Ghauts, which rise in Ceylon, an island apparently torn from the continent, and run along the coast at a short distance from the sea, till they are lost in the plains of the Deckan, near the river Taptee. On passing this barrier, the clouds spread in a regular sheet, till they are again turned eastward by the high northern mountains, where they INDIA. 171 receive such increased velocity from some secret impulse of Divine power, that they rush towards Bengal in what are called North-westers, or very formidable hurricanes, and at length, in October, water the Carnatic ; so that, during the three months when it is raining on the Malabar coast with almost constant impetuosity, no cloud de- forms the blue sky of Coromandel, on the other side of the Ghauts, and vice versa. Nothing can be more interesting than the consideration of this subject : for here we behold physical causes pro- ducing the most admirable effects, and clearly perceive the hand of Omnipotence placing obsta- cles between matter and design, and forcing that to conform to this, with beautiful utility. The inhabitants of India consist of Brahmans, Jains, Budhists, Seiks, and Pariahs, who come under the general name of Hindoos, numbers of whom are now Mahommedans, chiefly of the sect called Soonis. The foreigners in that country are called Parsees, who worship fire ; the Armenians, who are of the Greek church, and Jews; but Portuguese, Dutch, English, French, Danish, Spanish, and Swedish half-casts now are very I 2 172 INDIA. numerous all round the coasts. Besides the native Christians, converted by the different mis- sions from Europe, there are many Nestorians in Travancore, who were originally proselytes of St. Thomas. All the inhabitants may be thus enumerated : — Under the East-India Company ... 60,000,000 Under their influence indirectly ... 40,000,000 Under independent Chiefs 20,000,000 In the Islands of the Indian Seas... 20,000,000 Total Population of the East-Indies 140,000,000 In some parts of the country, the natives are scattered over the face of it as in Ireland ; but, generally speaking, they live in cities, towns, and villages. Their chief cities are Benares, Surat, Calcutta, Delhi, Madras, Bombay, Agra, Luck- now, Patna, Moorshedabad, Dacca, Poonah, Hyderabad, Nagpore, Catmandoo, Oojain, .lyenagur, Amritsar, Lahore, and Seringapatam. Some of these contain 600,000 souls each, and the lowest in the scale has upwards of 100,000 inhabitants. INDIA. 173 The Hindoos have generally two harvests, one in September and the other in March ; but that in the dry season requires so much labour in irri- gating the young crop, that it is not very produc- tive. Rice is their general food ; and, in every pri- vate point of view, they are a simple, inoffensive, merciful people. As religious fanatics, however, they are liable to be roused to acts of great despe- ration by their superstitions, which are the most complicated and ingenious inventions to subject human nature to priestcraft, that ever appeared in the world. They are divided into four great classes, called castes ; each of which is again sec- tioned out into innumerable small fraternities, like masonic lodges, but without any general intercourse or recognition. This remarkable organization, teeming, as it might at first sight seem, with the seeds of disease and destruction, has been preserved for a period, dating back far beyond our power of tracing its origin. It may be said, that all the Mogul empire now belongs to the Company. Their revenue, when the Marquess of Hastings went out as Governor- General in 1813, was £17,000,000 of our money; I 3 174 INDIA. to which that great noblerrran has since added £5,000,000 by conquests, into which he was forced by aggression. At present the Company has, therefore, a revenue of £22,000,000, with a decreasing debt, and no very considerable in- crease of expense; so that their circumstances never were in a more flourishing state. Their army consists of about 150,000 natives, regularly disciplined on European principles, and com- manded by British officers, while they are sup- ported by about 8,000 European artillery and infantry of their own, and 30,000 King's troops. The area of the British empire in India is nearly equal to that of all Europe : and there is great variety in its different climates, the com- plexions of its inhabitants, the conformation of their bodies, and their manners, dispositions, and customs. In general the climate is not un- friendly to human existence, which is proved by its vast population in many parts ; but Eu- ropeans who continue those habits of life which are common in our latitudes, often fall victims to inflammatory diseases, particularly liver com- plaints and fever. INDIA. 175 All the virtues of humanity are common to the Hindoos. Their courage has been such, in many instances, that when they fail in defend- ing their posts, an end is put to existence, if spared by the enemy. Such are the affection and constancy of their women, that many thou- sands of wives sacrifice themselves every year on the funeral piles of their husbands. Their ten- derness for the life of brute animals is so great, that hospitals have been erected for the preserva^ tion of the old and maimed of the meanest crea- tures upon which God has bestowed sensation. Many of their religious ceremonies, it is true, are barbarous ; but these consist of self-inflicted tor- tures, pilgrimages, and trials, to work out salva- tion. Their ignorance and credulity are so great, that they can be persuaded almost to any thing by their priests ; yet, at one time their state of civilization must have been admirable, as th^ remains of their village economy, and their codes of laws, strike every beholder witl^> surprise and respect. Their vices are in general the offspring of avarice ; a passion which, with them, appears to originate in the kindly affections of the heart ; i4 176 INDIA. as all their anxiety to heap up money flows only from the desire of having it to expend, in the numerous ceremonies instituted on occasions of initiation, marriage, and child-birth, and to free parents from transmigration after death. If they have the vices, they have also the virtues which associate with avarice — industry, frugality, so- briety, and perseverance. The great monuments of labour which they have dedicated to their divinities, reflect honour on their piety and good intention. Their anti- quities, such as the caves of Elora and Carlee, in the Deckan; and those of Elephanta and Ken- neri, near Bombay, with the numerous ruins and ancient pagodas scattered over the country, are really wonders of art. The sites of some of their ancient cities, such as Kanoge and Gour, are as large as London. To these all the ruins of Mogul splendour are now added; so that in every part of India a European will find sufii- cient to gratify his curiosity and awaken his sympathy. Of the early history of the Hindoos we know little, except what is related in the Bible. They INDIA. 177 were, from the most remote period, a commercial people; and when Europe recovered from the barbarism which followed the subversion of the Roman empire, the valuable productions of Hindostan found their way through Egypt to Venice, till at length the conquest of the Ma- hommedans not only spread over Hindostan, but threatened to deluge Europe. The Portuguese, however, by discovering a passage round the Cape of Good Hope, began to settle on the coasts of India, about the year 1500; and, in the course of time, they made themselves masters of the whole trade. The other com- mercial nations of Europe could not see this without envy; and Holland, England, France, Denmark, &c. established factories also in India at different times. That virtue and courage which the Portuguese were remarkable for upon their arrival in India, fled afterwards to the Dutch, who deprived them of nearly all their conquests ; for which the English and French had a long struggle, till the latter sank. Our amazing success in India is in a great mea- sure to be attributed to Lord Clive, whose war- I 5 178 INDIA. like disposition changed the policy of the East- India Company from that of a merchant to that of an ambitious sovereign. This course was per- severed in by Mr. Hastings, who, during his administration, impressed the natives with the most unfavourable opinions respecting British en- croachment and injustice. It w^as the object of Lord Cornwallis to remove these prejudices, by the full exercise of-his faculties for the happiness of India; and under his Lordship's direction those liberal regulations w^ere framed, which at present form the groundwork of our systems of government in Hindostan. The natives have now an interest in the soil, and they are secured in their rights and properties by their ow^n laws, and shielded from the oppression of Europeans by British courts of justice. The brilliant and commandinoj talents of the Marquess Wellesley consolidated our empire in the East; and the w^ars in which he w^as unavoida- bly involved with the Sultan of jNIysore, the Mali- rattas, and the French, greatly extended our influence, and laid the foundation of a system of subsidizing the native Princes, which in its ope- INDIA. 179 ration has entirely deprived them of external poli- tical power, and eradicated the ruinous petty warfare of plunder, that threatened to convert the finest provinces of India into a j ungle. It has been the fortunate lot of the Marquess of Hastings, who stands eminently conspicuous in the temple of Fame, not only as a statesman and a warrior, but as a philosopher and a philanthro- pist, to contribute largely to the happiness of the Hindoos. He has returned to his country, followed by the prayers of millions of men whom he had endeavoured to rescue from darkness and ignorance, and to secure in the blessings of peace and earthly felicity. Over that extensive country, security and confidence are now presiding in the full exercise of their cheering influence. No bands of ferocious plunderers now desolate the abodes of love and innocence ; but the confident cottage of rural peace lifts its head without fear in the vici- nity of towns, whose high walls and embattled turrets were lately thought insufficient security against foul invasion.* * The Burmese War need scai'cely be produced as an exception. In fact, it is far beyond the limits to which I allude ; and war must necessarily often occur in such extensive regions as India. I 6 180 INDIA. Government is carried on by three divisions, or Presidencies : these are, Calcutta, Madras, and Bombay; to the first of which the second and third are subject, whilst they are independent of each other. Calcutta has an area of country subject to its urisdiction of about 200,000 square miles; com- prehending Bengal and Bahar, part of Orissa, Allahabad and Berar, the Morung, Cooch-Bahar, and all the districts in Oude acquired since 1801. The population is about 40,000,000; the gross produce of the land £43,000,000 sterling ; the revenue about £12,000,000, and the charges under £7,000,000. All civil and military power is confided to the Governor-General at his Presi- dency, w^ho is assisted by a council of three mem- bers. The city of Calcutta is about one hundred miles from the sea, by the windings of the river Hooghly, and its population is estimated at 600,000 souls ; while the space around, within a circle of twenty miles, is said to contain 2,225,000 people. Yet, in 1717, this city was a petty village. Its internal and external trade averages about £14,000,000 peramiwn ; and about 600 ships and INDIA. 181 vessels take their departure from the river every year. Madras is 1,030 miles distant from Calcutta, situated nearly in latitude 13° north, while the British capital of India lies in ' 22o north ; but the heat at Madras is not so very great as might be supposed, from its lying so near the line. There is this difference, however, that Calcutta has a sort of winter for three months, while the temperature at Madras varies but little during the whole year; but then the former place is visited by hot winds in the summer, while their influence is never felt at the latter. The popula- tion of Madras is 350,000 souls; its revenue £5,000,000. It controls 20,000,000 of the natives indirectly, but its immediate subjects are only 12,000,000 in number. Its exports consist chiefly of piece-goods, and the whole trade seldom e's.- ceeds £5,000,000 per annwn. This presidency is managed by a governor and council of three, but all external political power is vested in the Go- vernor-General. Bombay is 1,300 miles from Calcutta, and 770 from Madras. It is situated nearly in latitude 19^ 182 INDIA. north. The government is similar to that of Madras ; and there are 220,000 inhabitants on the island. It controls 8,000,000 of souls. The re- venue is full £5,000,000 sterling />er annum, and its exports and imports average £60,000,000 annually. India, on the whole, is a fine country for mili- tary men. On its extensive surface the art of war appears in various forms, during even the service of a few years, and it may be studied in its most useful parts, even in times of profound peace. It is now well known that a removal to the north- ern parts of India recruits the relaxation occa- sioned by long residence in the southern quarters of Hindostan, so that it is to be hoped, an atten- tion to the health of Europeans will take place, and that frequent exchanges of stations will not only preserve human life, but secure that activity of mind and of body, which are important essen- tials in our profession. My experience authorizes me to say, that the best plan for government to adopt when a regi- ment arrives in India, from either Europe or the Cape of Good Hope, is to station the corps for some time on the sea-coast, where the command- INDIA. 183 ing officer should be directed to have bathing pa- rades three mornings every week, and on the alter- nate days exercise marches of about ten miles, or useful drills. The morning is the most delightful period in India for exercise, as the earth during night acquires an agreeable coolness, which it has not in the evenings, and there is a charming freshness in the air, which exhilarates the spirits of animal life. Soldiers should not be paraded earlier than an hour before sunrise, which, in the Peninsula, occurs about six o'clock; nor should they be kept out too long under the increasing heat, which rises rapidly in places where there is much reflection, about nine a.m. Yet I am persuaded that exposure to the sun, w^hen a European has been " climatized," is not injurious to health, provided the fluids of the body be left to their na- tural powers of preserving due temperature : on the other hand, if they are irritated by gross food, or spirituous liquors, fever and liver complaints ensue, with, not unfrequently, coups de soleil, which produce an immediate extinction of life. The night air on the sea-coast is delightful to the senses, and our soldiers, if not prevented, v/ill 1 84 I N D I A. carry oiit their ma's and sleep under its bewitch- ing freshness : but it is dangerous, unless the body and head be well covered. There certainly are marsh mlasyna in the neighbourhood of extensive rice cultivation, caused by the inundations neces- sary to that grain, which destroy life. It is on this account that I dislike very early parades, as those miasma seem to operate powerfully in the morn- ing. I observed, indeed, when under a command- ing officer exceedingly fond of before-daylight preparations for field days, that his hospital was filled with men, who had been invariably taken ill at drill. After " climatization," the night air in the interior seems to be as little injurious to health as the noon-day rays of the sun. When a regiment has had this seasoning for a few months on the sea-coast, it should be sent into the Deckan, or Mysore regions, which being elevated about 3,000 feet above the level of the sea, are cool and healthy. The corps^ in the course of a few years, might be marched to the northern stations, and receive the benefit of streams of air flowing from mountains covered with eternal snow. Thus Europeans would, in INDIA. 185 my humble opinion, preserve health for ten or twelve years, and return to their country with un- broken constitutions, even after twenty years' resi- dence in a hot climate. Many of the long journeys, which military men have to make in India, either to join their regi- ments on arrival from Europe, or in corps after- wards, upon transfer from one presidency to ano- ther, &c. are made by water. I can refer to no- thing more delightful in recollection, than the movements I have made in India on its fine rivers. The rich banks were often covered with herds of cattle, feeding amidst fruit groves ; and the bright green of the broad plantain leaves formed charm- ing tints with the deep shades of the mangoe, guava, and jack, while tall palms, thinly scattered, rose like stately spires in the distance. From among this external luxuriance of nature peeped numerous villages ; and the hum of labour, the tinkling bells of pagodas, the Mahomedan call to prayers, and the groups of young females along the margins, gazing at our tracking or paddling boat, with their jet black hair decorated with sparkling white flowers, altogether formed an af- 186 INDIA. fecting scene, upon which, with my brother officers, I used to gaze, till the brilliant luminary of day sank to repose. Then we sometimes saw the bo- som of the broad water covered, as it were, with stars glittering on the dark blue expanse, and emu- lating the vivid glances of yet brighter stars above. This enchanting appearance was caused by nu- merous lamps sent down the stream after sunset by the Hindoo girls; under the belief that they lighted departed friends, and prognosticated the return of those who were absent. If the lamp, or little boat, sailed off propitiously, a shout of exultation was raised ; but if it upset, or the light went out, a melancholy howl announced appre- hension, which was answered by the screams of peacocks and monkeys. The numerous towns that rise, too, in quick succession, as by enchantment, and the busy scenes of human anxiety and folly, all contribute to ex- cite and gratify curiosity. Who has ever sailed up the Ganges to Delhi, and seen the wonders of Patna, Benares, Agra, &c. without amazement and admiration ? Could he look upon the ruins of Mogul splendour, and the monuments of Brah- INDIA. 187 manical power, and not feel his faculties enlarged, and his sensibility affected ? The gardens and palaces of Shalimar, once the abode of ten thou- sand beauties, are now clothed in the wildness of long neglect. There is scarcely a flower left to breathe its " sweetness on the desert air." — Sic transit gloria mundi. 189 W, VII. SUPERSTITION IN INDIA. " What can be avoided, Whose end is purposed by the mighty gods?" SHAKSPEARE. Of all the mental infatuations to which hu- manity is subject, superstition appears to be the most deeply implanted in the seat of thought ; and when the imagination is warmed by prophetic effusions, or prospective views of futurity, the luxu- riance of its vegetation creates a perfect wild- ness. Education removes the mental vapour of superstition from the internal sphere, as the sun dispels a dense cloud from the external world; but, among the natives of India, where ignorance is encouraged by priestcraft for the sake of the 190 SUPERSTITION IN INDIA. power which it bestow^s, this calentr.re of the mind reigns despotically, and induces them to accredit the grossest absurdities. Few years have been more fertile than the last,* in alarming prophecies and dreadful pre- dictions. In the forenoon of the 12th of Fe- bruary, a shock of an earthquake was felt at Lucknow : every heart in the city shook with apprehension, and all the old women turned up their eyes in alarm and terror. An ascetic, re- markable for exuberance of beard and length of nails, was heard to pronounce, under the sup- posed influence of inspiration, some hollow unin- telligible sound. A gi'ey beard, who thought he had a wiser head on his shoulders than any of his neighbours had, interpreted this as an indication that something extraordinary would happen. The alarm spread, and it was soon rumoured by one, who had heard it from a third, who had received it from good authority, that Vishnu was under- going his last metamorphosis. Another reported that one of the idols in the temple had been seen * Tliis paper was written in Calcutta in 1813. SUPERSTITION IN INDIA. 191 in tears: every eye streamed with sorrow, and prediction on prediction followed at full gallop. One said a calamity would happen ; another added dreadful to it ; a third thought himself at liberty to explain it, by assuring his believing audience that the ten thousand millions of gods were in confusion, fighting the giants for butter, the latter having taken possession of the region bordering on the milky sea ; and that the earth had been nearly knocked from the back of its supporter by the fist of the giant who had before evinced his prowess in disfurnishing the sun's mouth of teeth, and belabouring the moon most unmercifully, and that it would certainly have fallen, had not the elephant-headed Vinayaguin supported it with his trunk. This was an ac- count that caused terror and distraction, foam and apprehension, lest the giant should give the earth the knock-down blow. In the afternoon another shock was felt ; fury, clamour, and de- spair ensuea, with almost universal prostration; and each thought he v/as going he knew not whi- ther. Those that could stand did not look be- hind them, but escaped, and reported that Luck- 192 SUPERSTITION IN INDIA, now was no more. This news electrified every Brahman in Calcutta, and the " heads of ten thousand" were offered, to avert a similar fate. In the mean time, it was said that a golden plate of immense value had been found by a Fakier, with an inscription in some unknown language, which a wise greybeard had explained to import that Calcutta would be destroyed in time to come — nay, the day vwas even fixed by some, who had it from unquestionable authorit)^; and by others it was asserted, that the plate was in the government-house. Report loses nothing in a city — we had it re- peated in various forms. One said that we were to go up ; another, that we should go down ; a third suggested an amendment, a fourth an ex- planation, and some one with a much longer head than the rest, positively affirmed, that wc and the earth would be kicked to the infernal regions by Vishnu, with as much ease and rapi- dity as he had sent the head of Magapelixacra- vanti before us, in a similar manner. Many de- camped with bag and baggage, much to their own satisfaction. The misers remained trem- SUPERSTITION IN INDIA. 193 bling for their souls and their money, and the poor in the hope of sharing the general wreck and plunder. On the 10th of April we were all alarmed by the shock of another and a greater earthquake ; and many a groan was heard, amidst noise, bus- tle, and frantic exclamation. The good and wise people of Calcutta were tossed to-and-fro, and, like feathers in a whirlwind, exhibited indescriba- ble confusion. The time of destruction was then postponed, and fear and apprehension were kept alive, till, like a worn-out constitution, they re- jected all medicines, and sank into tranquillity. When the mountain was in labour it produced a mouse, and therefore rewarded the multitude with something ; but Lucknow remains, Calcutta has increased, and expectation has been recom- pensed with smoke, nonsense, and nothing. From this faint sketch it will occur to the in- telligent mind, that the veil of futurity is imper- vious to the eye of mortality ; that the hand of Omnipotence is too sublimely merciful to delight in torturing the insect of its own production ; and that weak man should not anticipate what he VOL. J. K 194 SUPERSTITION IN INDIA. cannot foresee ; but, prepared for the worst, with pure religion in his heart, should rast firm as for- titude on a pedestal of hope, amidst " The wreck of matter and the crush of worlds." i 195 NO. VIII. COMMANDING OFFICERS. O, it is excellent To have a giant's strength ! but it is tyrannous To use it like a giant. SHAKSPEAKE. It often happens that men, while in subaltern situations, are disposed to view their superiors as tormentors, and to compliment themselves upon being free from imperfections which they clearly perceive in those above them ; yet, when the same " brief authority" devolves on them, their conduct becomes such as they before condemned. The humility which this reflection suggests, will, 1 trust, prevent me from overstepping the modesty of nature in the following sketch of my command- ing officers. K 2 196 COMMANDING OFFICERS. My first was an excellent field-tactician. He was a Scotchman, of a generous and liberal soul ; proud as a Turk; and so fond of dress, that he changed the appointments of the officers several times. Under his command every one was obliged to appear, at all seasons, when out of quarters, in full regimentals. His secret of com- manding was, to keep the soldiers so busy, that little time was left for the commission of crimes. Corporal punishment he disliked; the congee- house being preferred by him to the drummer's cat. In short, he was a man of plain, good sense; and such was his influence over the officers of the corps, that there was not a court-martial in the regiment, on any one of them, for several years. Like most of his countrymen, however, he did not forget himself; and he was charged with being partial to every thing north of the Tweed. To his quarter-master he gave every opportunity of enriching himself; but, I believe, notwith- standing remarks made to the contrary, this was done with the good intention of serving an old soldier, who had a large family to support. COMMANDING OFFICERS. 197 The next at the head of the corps was an officer without any opinion of his own: confusion was, therefore, soon visible; for the whole regiment split into parties, each striving to turn the im- becility of their chief to individual advantage. Things soon came to a crisis, for the Adjutant knocked him down. A court-martial was ex- pected; but as this would have injured the inte- rests of the regiment, promotion in such cases going out of the corps, the business was hushed, and the Major permitted to sell out; by which the senior captain gained rank, and the Adjutant's commission was saved. In this state the Lieutenant-Colonel found the corps, on his arrival in India from Europe. There never was a man more inclined to be despotic than he; for his own construction was, in his mind, good law, and every one who differed in opinion a rebel. Yet he was kind, generous, and humane when implicitly obeyed; a most zealous friend ; but a deviation from his wishes roused a dangerous enemy. Portly in person, and severe in aspect, he was well-formed by nature for command. From confusion he pro- k3 198 COMMANDING OFFICERS. duced order and beauty ; and in a short period the regiment became a crack corps. It was next my fate to be placed under a com- manding-officer, who, though a brave and worthy man, hardly ever considered himself safe without advice ; upon which, too often, he acted, in pre- ference to the dictates of his own heart and head. Strange inconsistencies often mark such conduct. A fine young officer was brought to a court- martial for a hasty expression in a letter ; whilst another, who was guilty of infamous and scan- dalous conduct, escaped. The paymaster was cashiered for a trifling fraud, while the quarter- master retired with a fortune acquired in a man- ner contrary to the regulations of the service. In short, one subaltern lost his commission for sending a challenge to another ; whilst he whom he called out was promoted, though he had be- haved in a manner the most unlike that of a gentleman. My last was an Irishman, with unbounded va- nity, and, it must be acknowledged, considerable talent. He was generous, exceedingly brave, fond of glory, and ever devoted to the public COMMANDING OFFICERS. 199 good. On the other hand, he was passionate, obstinate, and often urged by rashness and im- petuosity into acts which afterwards he had to regret It was no easy matter to use language sufficiently guarded to him : an if , or you know, never failed to hurt his pride; for he considered that doubt, or hesitation in agreeing with what he said, arraigned his knowledge. Numberless were die vexations we all had to endure under him; the men were pestered, and the officers annoyed. The Adjutant, when suffering under a most mortifying instance of the power which mili- tary command gives to man of inflicting mental pain, was advised to resign. " No," answered he ; "I consider that mode of escape from trouble little better than suicide. What ! because I am ill-used by a superior offi- cer, am I to injure my future prospects, by doing the very thing which will perhaps gratify him? In acting thus, should I not quit a contest, and leave my enemy exulting at my retreat? For, is not laying down an office, because the perform- ance of its duties has become irksome, a desertion K 4> 200 COMMANDING OFFICERS. of one*s post in the hour of trial, when the re- sources of the mind should be applied to conquer difficulties?" This doctrine I leave to the consideration of the reader. 201 NO. IX. THE GOVERNOR'S BALL. " Who thundering comes on blackest steed. With slackcn'd bit and hoof of speed ? Beneath the clattering iron's sound The cavern'd echoes wake around, In lash for lash, and bound for bound. The foam that streaks the courser's side Seems gather'd from the ocean tide ; Though weary waves are sunk to rest, There's none within his rider's breast." BYRoy. I HAD just returned to the comforts of Bombay, from a long and arduous campaign in the wilds of Guzerat, when the Governor's ball was an- nounced. " Get me a palankeen, Hormongee," said Ij with all the pleasure that contrast such as I experienced produces. K 5 202 THE governor's ball. This I said to my Parsee servant, who perfectly understood me. It may be necessary, however, to inform the reader, that palankeens and boys stand at certain places in the great towns of India, as hackney-coaches and sedans do in London, for their own profit, and the convenience of all who can pay for being carried. The bearers, or pa- lankeen-boys of Bombay, are strong, intelligent fellows ; and four of them will carry a person with great speed, for two or three miles, without com- plaining of the least fatigue. As they run they entertain you with a song, to which their feet and arms keep excellent time, and bestow upon you a profusion of praise, for which they expect to be paid with buxies, or a small present beyond the usual fare. It was not my fortune, however, on the present occasion, to have my vanity tried, or my purse opened by their flattery; for Hor- mongee came back with the long face of disap- pointment, and assured me- that neither love nor money could obtain a palankeen, everyone having been pre-engaged. — " But," added he, " if master please, I can get loan my cousin Monagee's buggy and Toka." THE governor's BALL. 203 Now Toka was a very respectable white horse, of high shoulder and good paces, I knew the animal, but not the buggy ; and, trusting that one corresponded with the other, I immediately ex- pressed my satisfaction. In short, Monagee, who kept a shop in our regimental bazaar on the island of Colabah, which is separated from Bombay only at high-water, waited on me soon after, and with many flourishes concluded, " that he was most happy to serve me." Nevertheless, I perfectly understood that Monagee did not forget himself; as he seized this fair opportunity to intimate, that my interest with the commanding-officer would get him appointed our canteen-man, or the privi- leged retailer of arrack to the soldiers. " Well, d n me," said young B , one of our grenadier officers, dashing into my bungalow oi^ cottage, followed by a dozen of greyhounds, spaniels, and puppies, " but this is too bad — no palankeens to be had for the ball — the govern- ment ought to regulate this better." — " Yes," said I, " all such matters would be well regulated, B , if you were governor." I need not give bis reply and my rejoinder; it is enough to state, K 6 204 THE governor's ball. that I offered, and he accepted, a place in Mona- gee's buggy ; and, having Adonized in the even- ing, we saw our vehicle draw up to the door, the seise or horsekeeper at Toka's head, the lamps lighted, and all ready. It was near the opening of the monsoon, or rainy season ; but the night was mild and beautiful, though it had been a stormy day. We started. Acctistomed as we were to Indian scenery, we could not help admiring the beauty of the tall cocoa-nut trees that overshaded us in passing down Old Woman's Island, nor the wdld grandeur that surrounded us in crossing to Bom- bay. The tide was out, and we required not the ferry-boat ; but a ledge of black rocks rose on our right hand, against which the ocean lashed ; whilst on the other the retiring waves appeared at a little distance, and by the magic of reflection seemed far above our level, and willing to roll back upon us. The long white sandy beach glittered under the starlight; and the ramparts of Bombay frowned black and grim and terrible before us. We passed along some of the bat- teries, left the esplanade behind us, entered the THE governor's BALL. 205 busy and populous native town, beyond which are the garden-houses of the Europeans, whose opulence enables them to reside in the country ; and about nine o'clock alighted at the Governor's. His rural seat, originally a Jesuit's college, was now illuminated by wax, instead of the dim tapers of a religious order, and adorned with the beauty and fashion of the presidency, whose equipages were crowding forward under a blaze of torch- light. Numerous native servants, in rich Asiatic cos- tume — long scarlet gowns, embroidered bands, and rose-coloured turbans, with silver sticks, lined the vestibule ; and the Governor's aides-de- camp were all on the alert, handing ladies from their carriages, and introducing strangers. In the course of a few years' actual service, a soldier experiences such change and variety, that it is no wonder he should soon cease to feel surprise. I had lately been accustomed to the din of war. The mimetic features of Mars, which I had gazed upon in tiger and wild-boar hunts, were realized in noble marches after bodies of Pindarries, the human lions of Hindostan, over desolated plains, and through almost impene- 206 THE governor's ball. trable jungles. Now I entered a spacious and brilliantly-lighted ball-room, waving with ostrich plumes, and sparkling with the lustre of ladies' eyes. Sir Evan N , the Governor, stood amidst a circle of civil and military courtiers, at the upper end of the room. He was a tall thin figure, with a slight bend forward. His keen features were impressed with the march of years, and his head was freely sprinkled with snow by the hand of time. The sun of India had not impaired the vigour of his frame : with all the ap- pearance of age, he still manifested the vivacity of youth; wore a rich court-dress, blue trimmed with gold; and saluted on the cheek every fair lady on her first arrival, advancing like an able general who takes a fort by surprise, and apolo- gizing like a clever courtier, who pays a compli- ment while he snatches a favour : — " O, lady ! this is my only privilege as Governor, which I highly prize." This custom, however, as he knew that it would be more honoured in performance than in breach, subjected Sir Evan N to the task of saluting all strange ladies. Such, indeed, is the effect of THE governor's BALL. 207 vanity, that I have heard an old lady complain of neglect from the Governor, her chagrin having been evidently produced by feeling that her hour of charming had passed avray, and that it was cruel to remind her of the thefts of Chronos. Near the Governor stood the Persian ambas- sador and suite, whose costume and bearded facas grouped well in the picture, which was also heightened by the fantastic Armenian and the swarthy native Portuguese. The room was fill- ing rapidly; and I wondered that dancing had not commenced. Two military bands were play- ing alternately for the civil, military, and naval promenaders, who circled and fluttered with the lively belles and votaries of Terpischore. Upon inquiry, however, I found that the delay was oc- casioned in courtesy to a fair bride, who had returned the day before from her honey-moon excursion to Poonah, and who was to open the ball. At length Mrs. entered, supported by two aides-de-camp, and followed by the Bri- gade-Major and Military Secretary, whilst her husband brought up the rear, and guarded every thing but an interchange of eyes. The lady 208 THE governor's ball. blushed high, and performed her part with all the bewitching indications of modesty and deli- cacy, the most beautiful jewels that can ornament marriage. She trembled at the fatherly welcome of Sir Evan N ; but shrunk from the bold glance of the Persian, who eyed beauty with the unrestrained license of his country. At length the merry dance commenced. I, who am a looker-on, roved about, enjoying my own reflections on all I saw and heard. The Governor evidently expected some arrival ; and I heard a whisper go round in the form of an in- quiry : — " Will Mrs. C- not be here?" Mrs. C was the wife of a Cornet, who had arrived from England only a few days before; and the gentlemen who had come out in the same vessel spoke in such raptures of her beauty, that the Governor and every one burned to see a living representative of the Venus de Medicis. It is not often that an ensign or cornet is envied by generals and governors ; but every one seemed to think young C a most fortunate fellow. In- deed he was so in everv sense of the word ; for his charming wife was as good as she was beauti- THE governor's BALL. 209 ful, and as accomplished as she was innocent. He had won the prize of her youthful affections, and, contrary to the wishes of her sordid guardian, had carried off the casket, leaving the jewels in chancery. They were a lovely pair, and such as Love and Hymen would have joined in the golden age : it is proof enough that our's is an age of iron, when people wonder at the conjunc- tions of poverty and beauty, and cease to feel surprise at the union of January and May. Well, Mr. C did at length arrrive ; and C led his lady into the room, having de- clined presentation, at her request ; but the Go- vernor claimed his tribute, and Mrs. C was too well bred to make herself an object of atten- tion. Rich in native charms, she unconsciously was so. Even the Persian was so inflamed with admiration, that his beard was continually oblig- ing Mr. and Mrs. C to retreat. She, sweet creature, soon mixed in the giddy maze of dance, and escaped from the fire of licentious notice. Mrs. C was of the middle stature among women. Her form and air were symmetry and harmony ; her face was a personification of love- 210 THE governor's BALL. liness. Her features were soft, and all flowing, as it were, into liquid namelessness ; yet intelli- gence, vigour, and life were visible at every glance of the brightest blue eye that imagination can conceive. Nothing could rival the transpa- rency of her complexion ; in wliich the flowers of love seemed, as it were, springing from the gar- den of the heart. Such was Mrs. C , that we all paid her beauty the homage of unqualified admiration. My friend B had joined the light fastastic set, whose heads and feet formed a study for thought. His fair partner was Mrs. Major S , whose story has made some noise. It holds forth such an example of obedience to parental autho- rity — such a sacrifice of self to sisterly affection — sliows so strongly the power of human passion, the frailty of our nature, and the danger of set- ting the rules of society at defiance, that it may be a public benefit to extend its circula- tion. ' Flora Hartley was the youngest daughter of a gentleman in the West of England, who piqued himself on the high antiquity of his noble descent, THE governor's BALL. 211 and on his good fortune in being able to control destiny. It will easily be deduced from these cha- racteristic traits, that he was a proud, self-willed, country Baronet, or 'Squire, with all the good and bad qualities which are thence generated. He had two sons and two daughters: his youngest son was an officer of rank in India, Upon his return home, on leave of absence, he introduced his friend. Captain S , to his sisters; and spoke of his gallantry and worth in such terms, that the ladies were warmed into admiration be- fore they saw him. S was captivated by the beauty and inno- cence which characterized the sisters of his friend: so equally, indeed, had nature distributed her charms, and so liberally had education embellished both, that it was long before his heart acknow- ledged a preference for Flora. Such had been the general nature of his attentions, that both ladies were captivated by his addresses. Flora's sister, with all the confidence of affection, had revealed the partiality with which she beheld S to her ' alone ; it was, therefore, with a mixture of pain and pleasure. Flora discovered that her hand was 212 THE governor's BALL. the object of her sister's supposed lover. Her penetration had seen the fluttering state of S 's heart. Reflection told her that her father would never consent to see his younger daughter mar- ried before the elder ; she, therefore, determined upon sacrificing her own affection and interest at the shrin^ of obedience and sisterly love. Poor Flora was supported by her own magna- nimity. She saw the* man she preferred to all the world married to her sister — she saw them em- bark for India — 'she shed tears over her own sor- rows — but she prayed devoutly for their happi- ness. *' She never told her love ; But let concealment, like a worm i' th' bud, Feed on her damask cheek. " To make my story brief, be it simply related, that poor Flora feU into such a declining state of health, as to induce her brother to take her with him and his lady to India, for the benefit of a hot .climate. This happened about five years after the departure of her sister and husband. Mean- while, her father had paid the debt of nature. THE governor's BALL. 213 How far the tyranny of passion, and the attrac- tive power of inclination, might have seduced Flora to comply with her brother's proposal, I leave to the decision of my reader. To be near a beloved object is delightful. We think we may gratify our eye by looking upon what is dear to it, without adulterating the heart ; but let bro- thers and sisters read the story of Francesca and Paulo, as told by Boccacio in his Commentary on the Fifth Canto of Dante's Inferno, and be- ware.* * Francesca was the Lord of Ravenna's daughter, between whose family and that of the Lord of Rimini there had been a long and deadly feud. At length it was arranged by the media- tion of mutual friends, that the beautiful Francesca should be married to the heir of Rimini ; and thus, by the bonds of affinity, establish lasting peace. Lanciotto, the young Lord proposed, though a youth of spirit and enterprize, was deformed in person, and of a disagreeable aspect ; it was, therefore, suggested^ that Paulo, the brother of Lanciotto, who was an Apollo in person and mind, should pay his addresses to Francesca by proxy, and es- pouse her in the name of his brother. Ambition induced the lady's father to agree to this ; and though he foresaw dangerous 214 THE governor's ball. When Flora arrived at Bombay, she had to weep over her sister's grave ; and it fell to her lot consequences, he confided in his daughter's sense of duty being a guard to her subsequent conduct. Under the influence of such cruel deceit, Francesca was wooed by Paulo, to whom she yielded her whole heart. She was con- ducted to Rimini immediately after the celebration of her mar- riage, and did not discover the fallacy till the light of morning shed'its tell-tale on Lanciott*) by her side, instead of Paulo. The conflict in her mind she concealed ; and her husband never sus- pected that his brother could be made the instrument of his dis- honour, till his own eyes discovered himself disgraced. Rushing in upon the guilty pair, he struck at Lanciotto with his dagger, and Francesca, endeavouring to save him, received a fatal stroke ; so that Lanciotto sacrificed both to his resentment. Dante makes the lady's ghost in hell describe how her virtue was overcome :— " One day (a day I ever must deplore !) Tlie gentle youth, to spend a vacant hour. To me the soft seducing story read, Of Launcelot and fair Geneura's love ; While fascinating all the quiet grove, Fallacious peace her snares around us spread. Too THE governor's BALL. 215 to oflPer consolation to her brother-in-law. Such was the purity of her mind, that she never thought a union with her sister's husband possible ; and it is even said, that she encouraged the addresses of another ardent lover with hope. Be this as it may, her brother-in-law quarrelled with him, killed him in a duel, and espoused the object of their mutual attachment. Such unions are, for good reasons, discounte- nanced by the moral world ; and neither the rank, talent, and fortune of Major S , nor the amiable qualities of his lady, have been able to Too much I found th' insidious volume charm ; And Paulo's mantling blushes, rising warm, Still, as he read, the guilty secret told : Soon from the line his eyes began to stray ; Soon did my yielding looks my heart betray, Nor needed words our wishes to unfold." BOYd's TRANSLATION', The moral of this fine picture shews, that *' Lead us not into temptation," is the prayer best suited to human frailty. The story has been rendered more familiar to the English reader, by Leigh Hunt's poem, entitled Rimini. 216 THE governor's ball. command more than a cold reception at large and mixed assemblies : they are excluded in all selection, forced to court family companionship, and pointed at by the finger of observation. About midnight the Governor, bearing in mind the strict etiquette of India, led off the Lady- Commander-in-chief to the supper-room, fol- lowed by many a discontented fair one, who thought she had lost caste by not being handed to table by a gentleman of exactly her husband's rank. I need not expatiate on the luxuries of our Governor's table ; the hot ices, cold curries, insipid mulgatawny, undone palou, excellent wine — sparkling champagne, and piquant claret. Who ever expected comfort and good order in such a crowd, or tasted bad Bacchus where Sir Evan N presided ? The midshipmen of the Bombay marine were delighted, and became so forgetful, as to border on the regions of imperti- nence, obliging every gentleman who remained over his bottle, instead of returning to the ball- room, by a simultaneous movement, to shew them the contempt of abrupt departure. By this time the ladies had all whirled away, THE governor's BALL. 217 and B and I called for our seise, buggy, and Toka. A change had come over the external scene. The rain had fallen in torrents, and it was yet pouring; but our dripping seise had raised the hood and oil-cloth apron, so that we got in and felt quite snug. We proceeded about half-a-mile very well ; but the night was so wet, that our humanity induced us to make the seise get up on the foot-board. Here our comfort changed ; for Toka, feeling an unusual something near his tail, began to strike at it with both his heels. Monagee's buggy was by no means equal to this trial of its strength. It proved to be a broken-down, patehed-up vehicle ; and at once a shaft broke, and the body fell on the axletree. By this alarming change, the hood was thrown forward, the seise upset, and precipitated between the foot-board and the iron staneheon which bound the shafts, immediately behind Toka, where he stuck, with his head downwards, and his feet staring us full in the face. This was a melancholy sight in our confined position, with the hood pressing on our shoulders; for we had VOL. I. L 218 THE goveknor's ball. given the reins to the seise, and desired him to drive, intending to refresh ourselves with a nap, and he had let them go in his fall. Toka was not a horse to feel himself at liberty without en- joying it. He set off at full gallop. The broken shaft, which had been mended with an iron plate, trailed on the road ; and the latent fire which its friction called into action formed a living stream, enabling us, by its }ight, to contemplate the peril and horror of our situation. At length I crept out through the back part of the hood, and called to B to follow my example ; but his grenadier dimensions totally disqualified him from turning ; and the rapidity of Toka's pace altogether pre- vented me from leaping down : so that I stuck perched on the back seat; and, by the light of the moon, saw several gentlemen, whom we over- took, jump out of their palankeens, and^ieard them set up a loud shout, as though our misery had been their glory. Whether the seise pre- served his presence of mind, or accidentally caught the reins, I know not; but after we had travelled about a mile in the alarminij state I THE governor's BALL. 219 have described, he turned Toka's head towards a milk-bush hedge that skirted the road, and stopped him. I cannot express the pleasure I felt in leaping, with my white silk stockings and dress-coat, into the mud. My cocked hat flew one way out of my hand, while its long plume streamed to the ground by another. M}^ friend B also got liberated ; and we found that we could both stand erect, and march in the dirt, which was up to our knees, notwithstanding all that had happened ; so we most heartily congratulated each other, and expressed our joy at being soaked in rain and puddle. Such is the elasticity of man ; he bends to suffering, and rebounds to happiness at every respite from pain. At this crisis of our adventure a hackery, or bullock-coach, with a painted canvas hood, over- took us ; and, out of a palankeen which travelled along with it, leaped Mr. M'Arthy, the master of the band belonging to the Bombay European regiment, who was returning from playing his clarionet at the ball. He expressed his surprise and regret at seeing two officers in such a pickle, L 2 220 THE governor's ball. and most attentively ordered his musicians to vacate the hackery for our accommodation. We thanked him, promised to reward his men, and got under cover before we were absolutely wet through. In Malabar and Mysore these vehicles are called shigrampos, literally go-fasts; but our's deserved any thing but such a name. In short, it was day-light before we reached the Native or Black-town of Bombay. Here the bullocks, find- ing themselves at home, for they had been hired thence, refused to proceed farther; and as the rain was now over, we got out, agreeing to walk to Colabah across the Esplanade. Every one who knows any thing of India, has heard of the beauty of morning there. Life seems to be called into joyful activity by the approach of day. You see the Hindoos hastening to bathe and pray ; the Mahommedans on their knees looking to- wards Mecca ; and at Bombay the Parsees stand- ing on the Esplanade, with crossed arms, mutter- ing hymns to the sea, and watching the first beam of the sun. You behold the women of all denominations going to the wells and tanks for THE governor's BALL. 221 water. You see the toddy-gatherers, or men who collect the juice of the palm-tree, climbing up the long stems, and hanging fearfully between earth and sky. Indeed, you see so many extraordinary sights, that I must withdraw my attention from a general review, to the contemplation of one that struck me on this particular occasion ; and as it affords me materials for a true story, I hope the reader will also turn to it with satisfaction. B — — and I calculated that, by the time we could reach our own sweet little island, we should, on the long neck of land leading to it from the ferry, meet one of our brother officers marching at the head of the relief-guard to Bombay, impenetrable as a tor- toise, in his cloak, blue trowsers, and Wellington boots. Now, either laughing or quizzing was naturally to be expected by men in soiled silk stockings and full military costume, who had omitted even to bring a boat-cloak as a wrap, in case of the weather's changing. To avoid this exposure, we agreed to half an hour's delay ; and, in search of the sublime and curious, I led my friend towards the Parsee cemetery on the sea- shore. The Parsees neither burn nor bury the l3 222 THE governor's ball. bodies of their dead, but expose them in two re- ceptacles, one for males and the other for fe- males, made of solid masonry, and open only at the top for the admission of birds of prey. Hav- ing deposited the corpse in one of these sepul- chres, through a door at the bottom, it is left, slightly covered with a muslin cloth, to be de- voured. The bones are then carefully collected and buried in an urn, with certain ceremonies. This mode of sepulture was common in ancient times, in some parts of Persia. It excites sur- prise now, by its seeming barbarism ; and that it should be practised by such an enlightened and humame tribe as the Parsees of Bombay, who are very justly called the Quakers of the East, is strange. Precept and example will, however, school the human mind to any thing ; and, there- fore, we need not wonder at strange customs^ when we reflect, that our own are considered sur- prising and ridiculous in their turn. As we were nearing this curious golgotha, we beheld about forty men and women, whom we recognized as forming a Parsee funeral-proces- sion. Amidst them was a corpse, which we after- THE governor's BALL. 223 wards found to be the body of a young female, on a cot, or low bed, that served for her bier. They all seemed to be her near relations ; and, instead of the solemn decency which I had before observed at such ceremonies, this exhibited hurry and secresy : the hour was unusually early ; the lamentations were not loud ; there was no beating of the breast by the women; but, in long dresses smeared with ashes and paint, and with dishe- velled hair streaming to the morning breeze, they were uttering low groans and imprecations. Tears were flowing copiously down two of the women's cheeks, and we could hear them lament that ever they had been born, and utter wildly- suppressed rejoicings, that she whom they bore along was dead. When they arrived at the receptacle, instead of unlocking the door, and placing the body on the platform with tender- ness, it was thrown, with apparent detestation, from the parapet; and we heard the echo of its fall with a chill of horror. All this naturally aroused my curiosity ; and through the instrumentality of Hormongee and Monagee, to the latter of whom I promised my l4 224f THE governor's ball, interest respecting the canteen, by way of bribe for divulging the secrets of his sect, I received the following particulars, which I have every rea- son to believe perfectly true, and in strict accord- ance with Parsee usage. Limgee Dorabjee, a respectable trader in jew- els, had a daughter called Yamma, whose beauty equalled the lustre of the finest diamond. She appeared, among the* virgins of her tribe, as a gem of Golconda amidst beads of glass. Her parents saw in her, as in a flattering mirror, their fondest wishes. They pearled her jet black hair with many a costly transparent row; their rubies in burning glow were pendant from her delicate ears; their sapphires from her graceful nose; while many a far-famed mine glittered on her bosom, sparkled on her fingers and arms, and shed its light on her toes and ankles. Gold and silver gave splendour to her dress ; in short, in the impassioned phrase of Lord Byron, and per- haps with less of poetical hyperbole — " She was a form of life and liglit, That seen became a part of sight." This charming young Parsee, or Peri, was about THE governor's BALL. 225 fourteen years old, an age at which the female figure attains the sound perfection of beautiful ripeness in India. Indeed marriage takes place generally at a much earlier period of life ; but in Yamma's case, the young man to whom she was affianced had been detained at Surat nearly two years, by important commercial affairs, in which he was deeply concerned ; and the expensive cere- mon}^, on solemnization of wedlock, had been postponed from time to time, in anxious expecta- tion of his return. , Yamma's prospects were bright as the star of Venus. In her tribe women are treated with great consideration : they act an important part in the public and private concerns of their hus- bands, go unveiled, and, in point of personal freedom, they are under no restraint beyond that which delicacy and the custom of their mothers impose. The Parsee usages, with respect to mar- riage, are founded upon the happiness of domestic life, and they provide for the preservation of purity in the fair sex so effectually, that it is the boast of this admirable class of the Indian com- munity, that their wives never prove unfaithful ; L 5 226 THE governor's ball. nor is there an instance of prostitution among their daughters. Indeed their character in this respect is so well established at Bombay, that it is believed every aberration from virtue in their tribe is punished with immediate death, and the notoriety of the family disgrace carefully sup- pressed* The Parsee laws and usages are so well framed for the prevention of crime and the ad- justment of disputes, that an instance scarcely ever occurs of a reference to British justice. A Parsee can have but one wife. If she die, her family are bound to find a widow for the forlorn one's second mate ; for he is not allowed to marry a young girl, as with us, in his old age ; nor is he obliged to wed again, should he be desirous of preserving fidelity to his departed half. The same rule holds, if the husband die: his family are bound to find a widower, in compli- ance with a wish on the subject, indicated by the lady's friends. By this judicious arrangement, the frailties of human nature are restrained, and even converted into a public benefit. The Parsee women receive the advantages of education; many of them can read, write, play on the Indian THE governor's BALL. 227 guitar, make up accounts accurately; and, in some transactions I have had with them, they appeared very sensible and intelligent. All pub- lic business, however, is transacted by the men. The women do not appear in mixed company ; but in influencing affairs, and in private negotia- tions, they are powerful instruments. Such was the lovely Yamma, and such were the promises of hope, when it was her fate to be rescued from imminent peril by the intrepidity of Captain S . She had accompanied her mother, in a covered and gorgeously-decorated hackery, to a garden-house which belonged to her father on Colabah. They staid in the gar- den rather longer than their attendants wished, pleased with its cooling fruits, neat walks, silver streams, and shady trees. The golden banana, glittering mangoe, and imperial jack attracted their gaze and touch. At length their bullocks, in splendid housings, proud of the music of the sil- ver bells which played in suspension from their necks, approached the bed of the tide, which I have before described as separating the island of Colabah from Bombay. The raft was beginning L 6 228 THE governor's ball. to ply in the lower part of the channel, but the carriage-road, along the crest of the high rock, was practicable, though the rising tide might be seen glittering in streams across its black ravines. The drivers and runners calculated that the bul- locks would cross before the tide covered the rocks, and they urged them at full speed. A strong breeze, however, came into Bombay har- bour, with the flow from the ocean ; and before the hackery reached the shore, the ladies saw with terror that the devouring element was float- ing them, that their footmen were swimming and in great agitation, striving to keep the bullocks' heads towards the land. Alarm soon finds utter- ance. The mother and daughter mingled their cries, and wept in pity more for each other than for themselves ; but their agony was drowned by the roar of the flood, and the crowd at the ferry were too much absorbed in their own view^s, and too distant, had it been otherwise, to afford them aid. At this awful moment Captain M was galloping from the fort; and, hoping that he should be in time to cross the rocks, he made THE governor's BALL. 229 directly for the course of the hackery, saw the life-struggle of the men, heard the piercing cry for help by the women, and plunged in to their assistance. His horse was a strong docile Arab, and Captain S , being exceedingly fond of field sports, had accustomed him to swim rivers, and even the lower part of this ferry, though a quarter of a mile wide. The horse, therefore, swam as directed to the hackery, and Captain S , having perfect confidence in his strength and steadiness, placed the daughter, who was as light as a fairy, before him ; and, with the mother clinging behind, gained the shore in safety, while the hackery and bullocks were swept away by the force of the tide. The terror of the animals, pre- venting their effectual struggle, destroyed them ; for, a moment after the perilous escape of the ladies, the hackery was upset, and the bullocks were drowned. Many battles and dangers require a longer time in description than in action. It was just so in this case. Short, however, as the time had been, a crowd was gathering ; and not only the ladies, but all tongues were loud in thanking 230 THE governor's ball. Captain S for his gallant conduct. Mean- while, he gazed on Yamma with wonder, and she on him with grateful surprise. Many of the Parsees have fair complexions, and Yamma's was transparently so. Indeed she looked, though pale with fright, and dripping with brine, so much like Venus rising from Ocean's bed, that S pronounced her, in his own mind, the loveliest of the creation. He galloped to the fort, procured palankeens, and saw the fair Par- sees conveyed home in safety. I wish, for Captain S 's sake — I wish, for the sake of a happy termination to my story — that his acquaintance with Yamma had here ter- minated ; but I am impelled, by the laws of his- tory and the nature of my information, to pro- ceed, not with the wing of fancy, but with the plume of plain matter-of-fact. In short, then, Captain S used every means in his power -to win the love of Yamma. He corresponded with her through the medium of fakiers, or religious mendicants and fortune tellers. He loved her to distraction ; he offered to marry her ; for S had a soul too noble to ruin the object of his adora- THE governor's BALL. 231 tion. She listened to the magic of his addresses ; she forgot all the customs of her tribe ; she af- forded her lover opportunities of seeing her : he visited her in the disguise of a Hindoo astrologer, and she agreed to leave father and mother and follow him for life. Unfortunately they were dis- covered, and so promptly followed by three stout and well-armed Parsees, that S was nearly killed in an unequal contest to preserve his prize ; and poor Yamma was returned to her enraged and disgraced family. The reader may conceive her terror and con- fusion — how she protested her purity and inno- cence — how she was disbelieved and upbraided — how S stormed and raved — how he offered her family every reparation that an honourable man could make, and how they spurned his terms with contempt and indignation. He cannot, however, so easily picture what followed ; for he may not have believed or known that such scenes occur in the world. Well, I must briefly de- scribe it — no, I cannot dwell upon it — I will hurry over it, merely sketching the outline, and 232 THE governor's BALI>- tiirning with horror even from my own faint colours. Tlie heads of the tribe were assembled, and an oath of secresy having been taken, the fair Yammawas introduced, arrayed as a bride, and decorated as the daughter of the rich jeweller, Limjee Dorabjee. After certain ceremonies, her mother and grandmother approached her, where she sat like a ^beautiful statue ; and, pre- senting a poisoned bowl and a dagger, said, in a firm tone : — " Take your choice." — " Farewell, mother ! farewell, father ! farewell, world ! " replied the heroic Parsee daughter, taking the deadly cup ; " Fate ordained that this should be Yamma's marriage " — and she drained its con- tents ! Her leaden eyes were watched till they closed in death : she was then stripped, arrayed as a corpse, and conveyed to the receptacle of the dead, as I have described. When S heard that Yamma was gone, and suspected that she had been murdered, according to the customs of the Parsees, the noble fabric of his brain gave way, and reason fell from her throne. THE governor's BALL. 233 " My horse, my horse !" cried he ; and as he patted his war-neck, the seise saw the fire of his tear-starred eye and trembled. Away went horse and rider — far behind ran the groom. He heard the hoof of thunder on the ground, and his master's voice urging his spirited steed towards the foaming surf — then a loud explosion, as of breaking billows ; and, on gaining the sea- shore, he saw a black point on the stormy surface of the ocean, but he never saw the brave S and his Arab more. 235 m X. THE VEIL. His was the lofty port, the distant mien. That seems to shun the sight — and awes if seen ; The solemn aspect, and the high-bom eye. That checks low mirth, but lacks not courtesy. Byron. The fakiers and Indian story-tellers always found me an attentive hearer, ready to reward their ingenuity. Indeed, I took great delight in their tales; for though many of them are not worth i*epetition, they in general abound in such wild- ness of scenery, and convey such correct ideas of eastern manners, that I profited by the time de- voted to those travelling depositories of local tansactions. In the hope that the reader will also be pleased with a specimen, I venture to place be- 336 THE VEIL. fore him the following version of a poetical legend, recited to me v^^ith much gesture and emphasis by an old yet lively strolling bard, whose flowing beard, patch-work cloak, and conical cap, gave an interest to his figure which I cannot describe. In Akul Mahomed Khan's strong fort, the lamps are burning bright. In his spacious hall that gallant Afghan chief entertains his friends, and quaffs the rosy \^^ine of Sheraz, or circulates the liquid opium. Seated on rich carpets, some smoke, some dose, some talk of Ghizni's by-gone glory, and some play at chess ; while their spears and shields gleam around the wall. Why looks AkuFs eye so heavy ? Care sits on his brow, and mocks the laugh of wine. — He is all ear and eye. — Mark that start : he hears the draw-bridge drop and the outer gate rebound. Whence comes that breathless horse, whose feet fire the pavement? His turbaned rider, wet with toil, enters, and bowing proudly, presents a packet, wrapped in silk, to Akul's lord, who breaks the glittering seal, and finds — not what he expected, a letter from his trusty friend Byjeeram — but a silver veil, with these gold-embroidered words : — THE VEIL. 23*7 " If woman's love to thee be dear, O right my wrongs vilh sword and spear ! An Afghan lord needs none to press His gallant arm, to lend redress To injur'd ladies in distress." Aloud he read these lines, and waved the shining veil. Out leaped from its scabbard every sword, and vengeance flashed from the eyes of the lords as they circled round their chief, and the noble Rajpoot whose present had roused their warlike souls. Well they knew him by the golden collar he wore, on which, in splendid embossment of pre- cious stones, the sun and horse, the personal deities of his intrepid race, appeared conspicuous ; well they knew him by his lofty post and eagle glance, his far-spreading turban, the Khatri-effigies that starred his breast, and the ease with which his sword, his spear, and target sat on his Mars-like form, to be a true descendant of that valiant caste, which may be destroyed, but never conquered. Then Akul Mahomed Khan thus raised his voice: — "Warriors and friends ! I see your hearts. The soul of honour and the spirit of your fathers dance in your eyes. Prepare for action ! I retire with this stranger, to learn what it is necessary I should 238 THE VEIL. know. To command success, secresy and prompti- tude are required. — But you shall know all in proper time." In his closet AkuPs lord receives all particulars from Maun Singh, the envoy of the beautiful princess of Odeypoor. The Maha Rana, or great prince, of Odeypoor, is the highest in rank among the Rajpoots. This family is supposed |:o be descended from Porus, who fought so bravely in opposing the progress of Alexander the Great; and such are their anti- quity and renown, that the most powerful princes of India esteem it the highest honour to be allied in marriage to them. Consequently Rajpootana, or the country of the Rajpoots, has always been convulsed with struggles, and often deluged with blood, when the daughters of the Maha Rana were marriageable. Goolab Bhye, the princess of the Silver Veil, was the only daughter of this ancient house ; and the fame of her beauty spread over the world. She was reported to be as lovely, as light, and as fair as the mother of the gods ; and all the war- like Rajpoot princes aspired to her hand. She THE VEIL. 239 had, however, been at a tender age betrothed to Dokul Singh, the presumptive heir to the Raja of Je}^oor, by her father, who, well knowing the in- trigues which would be employed to frustrate his wishes for the happiness and repose of his child, kept the contract a profound secret, and amused all aspirants with the visions of hope. But in private the young prince and princess met, and grew up inflamed with mutual love. At length it was represented to the Maha Rana, that he was incurring disgrace by having an unmarried daugh- ter in his family, and he deemed it expedient for his honour to declare the contract. This was the signal for private and open cabal. Jugguth Singh, the Raja of Joudpoor, in league with the chf^fs of his house, threatened to besiege Odeypoor, and lay the whole country in flames, unless the Maha Rana named him as his son-in-law. He suborned witnesses, and formed a party in the Raja of Jey- poor's family to prove the bastardy of Dhokul Singh, which, if established, would disqualify him for an alliance with the Odeypoor princess. The Raja of Jeypoor collected his forces, and the din of war was heard in every quarter ; for several 240 THE VEIL. Other aspirants pushed forward their claims ; and no fewer than seven armies took the field, to decide, by the sword, the right to the beautiful Goolab Bhye. To detail the bloody operations of the comba- tants who composed these bodies, is not requisite ; sufficient is it briefly to state, that they so far ex- terminated each other, as, in the course of a few nM)nths, to leave the decision of the struggle in the hands of the Rajas of Joudpoor, Jeypoor, and Odeypoor. The Maha Rana of Odeypoor was, at this period, far less powerful than the Raja of Joudpoor, whose talents, though a wicked and vicious prince, backed by the great resources of wealfti which his father had left, were more than a match for the Maha Rana and Je;y^oor Raja after the junction of their forces. A dreadful battle was, nevertheless, fought, the issue of which was that the Jeypoor Raja was forced to take refuge in the strong fort of Odeypoor, with the Maha Rana ; while his son Dhokul Singh was besieged, and kept a prisoner in the fortress of Jeypoor. Jugguth Singh now saw fortune smiling upon him, and commenced the close investment of THE VEIL. 241 Odeypoor with every prospect of success. The Maha Rana was killed in a brave sortie ; and such was the distraction of grief among the ladies of his household for his loss, that all his wives, mistresses, and female slaves rushed voluntarily to his fune- ral pile, and were consumed with his body; so that the unfortunate Goolab Bhye saw herself at once deprived of father and mother. What she felt in this desperate state of her circumstances, is a fitter subject for fancy than description. She saw the Raja of Jeypoor also fall in an unsuccess- ful effort to preserve her for his son ; she saw her garrison wasted by famine and war ; yet, animated by the heroic feelings of her caste, she never gave way to despondency. The distress to which she was at length reduced is best estimated by her application to Akul Mahomed Khan, an Afghan warrior, who was pursuing an ambitious project, with a small Patau force in Bhopal ; for as she had nothing to trust, but his generosity and honour, in availing herself of that custom, which binds an Afghan chief to succour a lady who sends him her veil, she ran the risk of inflaming his VOL. I. M 242 THE VEIL. desire, and of suffering the persecution of his addresses. Akul's lord having made himself master of this h tory, and inquired into the strength of the be- sieging army, who, in fancied security, slumbered before Odeypoor, made his arrangements with a dispatch worthy of success. The personal sacri- fice which he made will be appreciated, when it is known that he expected at day-light next morn- ing, through the instruVnentality of Byjeeram, to gain by surprise the strong hill-fort of Raseen, then possessed by his enemy, Ghyrut ud Deen Khan. " Hark to the neighing prancing steeds that fill Fort AkuVs square ! I see bright spears and bur- nished shields beneath the struggling beams of night's high queen. No cloak enshrouds yon warrior-forms, whose turbans dance in air ; their gleaming brands sit proudly on each thigh ; the bolstered pistols are unmasked, and in its rest the blunderbuss gleams terrible. Again the draw- bridge drops ! — Again the massy gates rebound! Mahomed's voice I hear — ' March ! ' — Thev wheel THE VEIL. 243 and vanish. — Ask where are they ? Vacuum an* swers-^-' Gone !' " It would jump with my humour to go forward in the words and manner of the raptured bard ; but in describing the march of the Patans, and their subsequent operations, he made so many allusions to local subjects, with which the reader may not be familiar, that, to avoid the prolixity of notes, I feel it necessary to descend, as I did in Maun Singh's communication to Lord Akul Ma- homed, to plain narrative. I shall, however, when at liberty to do so, resume the bardic strain, and return again to my own jog-trot, as the nature of my materials may influence my discretion. I have reason to believe that the fortress, called by the story-teller Akul, is the present city of Bhopal, in the province of Malwa, lat. 23*^ 17' N., long. 770 30' E. The native bards often call places, which have a distinct designation, after the name of their hero ; and as Raseen,- which Akul Mahomed Khan expected to get possession of the night he marched, is a hill fort within a few miles of Bhopal, I conclude that I am correct as to its geographical situation. It is at present the resi- ivi 2 244 THE VEIL. deuce of Nabob Fonjdar Khan. Dost Mahomed, the founder of the Bhopal royal family, came when young from Afghanistan to Delhi, and served the Emperor Aurungzebe with such fidelity and courage, that he was nominated to the superin- tendence of Bersiah, a district in Malwa, where he assisted Newal Shah, the Raja of Gunnour, to destroy his enemy the Raja of Chynpoor Barree, and was rewarded with the city of Bhopal and the territory around it, to induce his family and tlieir adherents, who were invited from Afghanistan, to settle there. Akul Mahomed Khan, I believe, was the elder brother of Dost Mahomed ; and it would seem that my legend originated in the early part of the eighteenth century, or the latter part of the seventeenth, as Dost Mahomed died in 1723, at the age of sixty-six. His brother is mentioned ill history with great respect ; and, in point of cha- racter, stands far higher than Dost Mahomed, who is charged with acts at which humanity shud- ders. Akul Mahomed Khan is described in Sir John Malcolm's Memoir*, as attached so devo- tedly to the usages of his country, that he formed * Vol. i. page 357. THE VEIL. 245 rules for all the personal and family affairs of the people. This, indeed, was deemed as imperative upon their princes and chiefs, as upon the most obscure individual of Afghan origin — upon the first in rank among these Afghans, whose excellent character merited the distinction which his birth and their good opinion had assigned him. Odeypoor is a town in the province of Ajmeer, lat. 24*^ 35' N., long. 73'' 44'; and, in a straight line, distant from Bhopal about 250 miles. Joud- poor is the capital of a principality in the same province, lat. 26° 18' N., long. 73*^ 49' E. Jeypoor is a neighbouring state, and its capital stands in lat. 26^55' N., long. 75° 37' E. Thus the reader is intro- d uced to the scene of action, the time, &c., as cor- rectly as my information enables me to give them. At this conjuncture of Indian affairs the power of the great Mogul was beginning visibly to de- cline. The Mahrattas, who had been driven to the mountains by the Moorish invaders, were then looking forward to regain empire over the sur- rounding population, and bursting from their Strong holds in plundering excursions, like those M 3 246 THE VEIL. of the never-to-be-forgotten Pindarries. All who are conversant with the annals of Hindostan, must be aware oi the success of the Mahrattas, under their able leader, Sevagee, and the gigantic strug- gle which their several chiefs in confederacy have had, not only with the native powers, but with British armies, for universal dominion in the East. I need not, therefore, comment upon the bard's allusions to the night-^fires in the Mahratta moun- tain fastnesses, during the march of Lord AkuFs detachment. The scenery is represented as wild and sublime, the country being watered by fine rivers, and crossed by chains of majestic moun- tains. The Patau force marched with all possible rapi- dity and persevering diligence ; but their com- mander was under the necessity of using incessant caution, both on the line of his route, and in the bivouacs which were necessary for the refreshment of man and horse, against the insidious attacks of the Bheels and Thugs, the most expert robbers in the universe. As the best security against these consummate knaves, Maun Singh advised Akul THE VEIL. 247 Mahomed Khan to place himself and his detach- ment under the protection of the Bhats and Charuns. The manners and habits of the people of India have not changed in any essential degree for; several centuries past ; and as those thieves, and the extraordinary men by whom they are restrain- ed, still remain to excite the traveller's wonder and apprehension in many parts of the country, it may be interesting to offer a brief notice respect- ing them. Of the origin of the Bheels little is known : it is supposed that they are among the most an- cient derivations from the aborigines. All the four great castes, however, hold them in abhor- rence ; and as they eat every kind of animal food, even the cow, they rank with shoemakers in the list of Pariahs, or outcasts. They are all professed thieves: they inhabit the high mountainous re- gions of the East; and they have an admirable form of government for cementing union on the basis of self-interest ; being under the control of chiefs, whom they hold sacred, and obedient to laws which they are taught to consider as of hea- M 4 248 THE VEIL. venly origin. Their invasions of right and pro- perty are the result of an organized system of se- cret theft; open force being scarcely ever employed by them, except in self-defence, and in fighting for tlieir wives, children, and villages. No ingenuity can guard against their dexterity. Like super- natural beings, they seem to set bars and bolts at defiance ; and were I to relate some of their extra- ordinary and successful invasions of property in the heart of our camps, in our cantonments, and in the towns near their haunts, I should be re- garded as the author of a romantic fiction, rather than as the relator of historic truth. Sufficient, therefore, it will be for me to say, that every one in their vicinity finds it an advantage to pay for. security. The Bheels, it is true, are hung up like dogs by the native governments, when caught in the act of robbery ; but this so rarely occurs, that the punishment has never operated as a preven- tive of the crime. It is a fact honourable to the fair sex, that the Bheel women are remarkable for humanity and tenderness : many instances have, indeed, occurred of their saving the lives of travellers, whom their husbands and fathers would THE VEIL. 249 have put to death. These females, and the old men of their tribe, cultivate the land in the vici- nity of their hamlets, while the enterprizing young robbers are absent in plundering excursions, or, armed with their bows and arrows, swords and targets, are dancing on the brow of the moun- tains, hearing the stories and praises of their na- tive minstrels. Many an entertaining page might be written from the lives and adventures of the Bheel chiefs, who are the Robin Hoods, Rob Roys, and Redmond O'^Hanlons of India. The Thugs are associations of mendicant Brahmans from all parts of the country; and, of late, all castes, even Mahomedans, have been ad- mitted. They are heartless murderers as well as robbers: every one of them carries a long silken cord vdth a noose, which he throws round the necks of his victims, and winds about their bodies so dexterously, that they are caught and strangled in a moment. By all these lawless bands, as well as by the Rajpoots, and indeed the whole native population in Hindostan Proper, the Bhats and Charuns are held sacred. It is believed that God created the M 3 230 THE VEIL. Bhats to attend his lion and bull. It was found, however, that the lion killed the bull every day, which vexed the divinity sorely : to remedy this, the Charun was created with a bolder spirit than the Bhat ; after which no bull was ever destroyed. The reader may smile at the idea of an account so absurd having power over the human mind ;' but the reiteration of the most fanciful whim will induce absolute belief, and produce the same effect, under the dominion of superstition, as the most demonstrative fact in the empire of reason and understanding. These Charuns and Bhats are the priests of the Rajpoots, and of many other tribes, who consider them in a more sacred light than the Brahmans, whose doctrines they reject. The chief power of the Charun is founded in the general belief, that, to shed, or cause his blood to be shed, is certain destruction. He becomes, there- fore, the safeguard of travellers, the security for merchants, the influencer of justice, and some- times, but it is said an instance is rare, the agent of fraud and the perpetrator of atrocity. To gain his end he brandishes a dagger, and warns the person or persons to be intimidated, that he THE VEIL. 251 will kill himself. Should this not avail, he stabs himself in a part where the wound cannot be mor^ ialj and throws his blood at the objects of his pas- sion with horrid imprecations of ruin and woe. These wonderful men will thus proceed to torture themselves with ghastly wounds, to kill their chil- dren, their parents, their wives, even themselves to gain a desired end. Every Charun, male or female, is schooled from infancy to consider vo- luntary death as a duty, and to meet fate with a smile of fortitude as the point of honour. They have villages of their own, and, both in dress and manners, the Charuns and Bhats are distinct from all the other population. I have seen their women come out to welcome us to their villages in Gu- zerat, and return, marching before us in solemn state ; dressed in long white robes, like ghosts, chaunting their wild invocations to Siva and Par- vati, the favourite Hindoo deities of their worship. As these women are ready at any moment to sacri- fice their lives with, and in the cause of their hus- bands, or tribe, they are held equally sacred with the men, and guarantee property, recover debts, force the performance of contracts, and convoy M 6 252 THE VEIL. travellers. The Bhats do not commit suicide, nor torment themselves. They are the bards and chroniclersof the warrior tribes and their exploits. To them the proud Rajpoot and the thieving Bheel look for consolation in adversity, and in- creased joy in prosperity: revering them as the rich depositories of legendary lore, and of heroic deeds, the records of which they pour forth in song, to gratify pride and to rouse emulation.* The fine old minstrel, who chaunted this legend for my amusement, alluded to these curious and poetic subjects in his rapid enthusiastic descrip- tion of Akul Mahomed Khan's march to Odey- poor ; within a few miles of which ancient city the poet made him bivouac in a valley on the evening of the fourth day after his departure from Bho- pal. Here Lord Akul left his detachment; and, disguised as a Fakier, with Maun Singh, as a ma- gician, for his guide, he approached to recon- noitre the position occupied by the army of Jug- guth Singh, and entered his camp as a spy. * For a fuller account of the Charuns and Bhats, the reader is referred to Sir John Malcolm's Memoir of Central India, vol. ii. p. 131. THE VEIL. 253 The sun was rising from his eastern bed, fresh and brilHant after the embraces of night, when Odeypoor met Akul's eye. He saw that it was seated on a hill, on the summit of which appeared the palace of the Maha Rana, while the pagodas, temples, and high walls, reflecting golden beams of light, presented a grand and imposing spectacle to his view. Westward of the city he descried a large lake, glittering like burnished steel, or an immense mirror — for it is five miles in circum- ference — under the glorious splendour of the God of day. Wild and rugged hills rose around the cit}^, some robed in the shining white livery of morning, whilst others were clad in the sable of shadow, or the purple of distance. Just out of gun-shot from the city the tents of the Joudpoor prince rose proudly, and covered a space which indicated the great strength of his army. His left rested on a bund, or embankment, which defends the lower part of the town from any overflow of the lake, while his right was inclosed in the sack of a precipitous hill, which, on approach, assumed the characteristic of a mountain. Akul saw imme- diately that the rear was the assailable quarter; 254 THE VEIL. and that in the event of success, Jugguth Singh's army had no retreat, either in front, right, or left; the mountain throwing them close upon the city on one side, and the lake on the other. In his approach, therefore, Akul marked, with much attention, the roads, or spaces left unoccu- pied by the followers, cattle of burden, and bazars, as lines of communication with the front of the Joudpoor camp, whicl:) he intended to make di- rectly for, in the attack, or night sui'prise, which he meditated. On mixing with the idlers in the first bazar Akul came to on entering the enemy's camp, he ascertained that Jugguth Singh had gone to Je}^- poor, to levy a contribution on that city, which had surrendered to him, and left his army under the command of his dewan or prime minister, Gopal Singh ; that, some time after his depar- ture, the discontented troops, who had long been without pay, and who w^ere disheartened by the length and obstinacy of the siege, had placed Gopal Singh under restraint; in short, that for two days all warlike operations had ceased ; that they were performing dherna ; and THE VEIL. 255 that their camp was under the protection of the Charuns. It is necessary that I should explain what dher- na means. This is a Hindoo custom, often re- sorted to for the purpose of forcing any person into a measure which another has deeply at heart ; such as the payment of a debt, the discharge of arrears to troops, &c. The manner of it is this : the soldiers lay their commander under constraint, and make a vow that they will neither eat nor drink till they are settled with, or satisfied, and that they will not let him have any sort of refresh- ment until he complies, or they die; in which event ruin and destruction are invoked on him and his. This custom is respected by all parties ; and as both debtor and creditor are urged, by a craving appetite, to moderation towards each other, in pity to themselves, such struggles gene- rally terminate in an equitable compromise. When an army is at dherna, they are held sacred ; and, therefore, the besieged had not molested Jug- guth Singh's troops for two days. Akul Maho- med Khan, though a Mussulman, was obliged to suspend his meditated attack, and await the issue ; 256 THE VEIL. but on that very evening it terminated in the arri- val of several camels laden with treasure, and the consent of the soldiers to receive a part of what was due. These particulars having been ascertained, Akul directed Maun Singh to pass round through the hills, and enter the town by the same private way he had left it, unobserved by the enemy: they agreed that, upon a signal made by Akul from a hill in rear of the camp. Maun Singh, with all Goo- lab Bhye's disposable force, should sally from the fort, and make a furious charge on the front, while the Patans attacked the rear. This well-arranged plan was, however, very nearly frustrated by the care taken by Maun Singh to apprize the Charuns in Jugguth Singh's camp of the approaching danger, that they might withdraw, and no chance remain of their blood being shed. A cocoa-nut was thrown from the walls of the fort to one of the Charuns, who stood near, with a mystical inscription on it, which aamounced somewhat to be dreaded, and avoided by absence ; and it was authenticated by the sa- cred mark of their order. The Charun, upon his THE VEIL. 257 return to the lines, began to chaunt an alarm song^j and all his brethren, in stately march, left the camp, and retired to the neighbouring villages, singing in loud chorus thus : THE CHARUN'S ALARM. We mist in yon valley see, Clouds on yon mountain ; We see the red stream flow From life's boiling fountain. Up, warriors ! up ! like your fathers behave ! Die like the glorious, or live like the brave ! Hosts of slain brothers now wing through the sky. To view in the battle your actions on high ; Welcome your ghosts to the heavenly camp ; Seal every wound with eternity's stamp ! Rise, warriors ! rise! like your mothers prepare To give, not to pay life I Honour to share ! Up, warriors ! up ! like your fathers behave ! Die like the glorious, or live like the brave ! The effect of this song on the officers and sol- diers composing the army of investment, the poet describes as electrical. Every warrior stood in a moment in order of battle, and every brand leapt from its scabbard ; every eye gleamed fiery with the animating flame of hope, and every heart beat high with swelling expectation. In short, the 258 THE VEIL. whole line prepared for action, lay upon their arms at night, and, relying upon the prediction of the infallible Charuns, expected a furious attack from Odej^oor. Thus may be seen the manner in which super- stition has always aided priestcraft ; and how ad- mirably the one is calculated to perpetuate the existence of the other. The Charun's prophecy being followed by the* attack of Akul Mahomed Khan, would confirm all in the belief that super- natural power belonged to these remarkable men. That the sentiments of the Alarm Song may not be deemed a fanciful picture, but a true representa- tion of the high-minded Rajpoot warriors' feelings, I beg to illustrate my text by reference to authority. Indeed, I am anxious, though aiming at amuse- ment, and offering a work which, in some respects, assumes no higher character than an effort of memory and imagination, to exhibit a faithful picture of manners and of real persons. To prove the lofty bearing and majestic valour of the Rajpoots, I need only quote what Krishna says to Arjoon in the Bhagwat Geeta : " A sol- dier of the Khetri tribe (the Rajpoots are of that THE VEIL. 359 caste) hath no superior duty to fighting. Soldier, who art the favourite of God, engage in battle ; if thou art slain, thou wilt obtain heaven ; if victo- rious, thou wilt enjoy a world." Respecting the high spirit and pride of the Rajpoot ladies, it may be stated, that one of the dissolute princes of Jeypoor forgot himself so far as to raise Ruska- poor, a Mahomedan dancing girl, by whose beauty he was infatuated, to the highest rank in the prin- cipality. He gave her great estates, and ordered the high Rajpoot females of his family to visit her ; but they offered to swallow poison, or stab them- selves, if he desired it, rather than condescend to the degradation of placing themselves on a level with infamy.* Akul Khan, upon returning to his bivouac, assembled his chief officers, and communicated to them his intentions, with such orders as he deemed necessary. He also furnished each leader with a plan of the enemy's position ; and omitted nothing that military talent suggests as an assurance of victory. His troops, in a fine state of discipline, * Vide Sir John Malcolm's Memoir of Central Indian vol. i, p. 33. 260 THE VEIL. well trained to act either as cavalry or infantry, were formed into three divisions, to attack on foot, by the three principal roads, or passes through the Joudpoor lines. They were directed to march at the same moment by different routes ; and as the distance had been accurately ascer- tained, a given pace was ordered, which would bring the heads of the three columns into the enemy's position simukaneously. I need not de- scribe the points which were given to be acte I upon, nor the care which was taken to avoid the fire of the attack from the fort. It is sufficient to state, that effective retreat was provided for, if necessary ; and that Lord Akul supported the high reputation which he enjoyed as an officer, in his preparations for this daring surprise of a large army by a handful of brave and determined men. Like a scientific soldier, who understands his profession, he did not neglect the power which opinion has over the human mind in creating panic, and paralyzing energ}^ He adopted a stratagem for the purpose of magnifying the at- tacking force in the eyes of the enemy, which was eminently successful. His followers and numbers THE VEIL. 261 of villagers were stationed along the roads by which the three columns attacked, with torches, glitter- ing standards, and burnished arms ; having been ordered to light their fire-brands the moment the attack should be commenced, and seem by noise and uproar as if pressing forward an overwhelm- ino: force. Akul's troops were armed with swords, pistols, and blunderbusses, each of which carried about forty small bullets. Every company had a rear- rank of spearmen ; and the whole had their bodies protected by steel net- work chain armour, while their heads were secured by their turbans from the most violent cuts of the Rajpoot sabre. In this panoply and order. Lord Akul marched down about an hour before day to the attack; making at the same time the concerted signal, which was a fire that rose like a volcano from a mountain, to Maun Singh. — The sequel shall be related in the succeeding number. 263 No. XL THE VEIL. PART II. Ah ! now they fight in firmest file no more, Hemmed in — cut off — cleft down — and trampled o'er : But each strikes singly, silently and home, And sinks outvvearied rather than o'ercome ; His last faint quittance rendering with his breath, 'Till the blade glimmers in the grasp of death. Byron. I RECOUNT the particulars of the surprise of the Joudpoor camp and army in the brief, abrupt, but strong manner of my original ; regretting much that a deficiency of inspiration prevents me from poetizing the animated description given by the minstrel in patch-work cloak, silver beard, and conical cap. f' Is that the morning star that caps yon teak- crowned* mountain ? Or, is it AkuFs signal- * Indian oak. 264 T H E V E I L. flame, volcanic-like, that paints the dark blue liorizon with fire ? Mark how the torches flit in Odeypoor's proud citadel ! Hark ! the toote- ries* and tom-tomsf sound to arms round Gopal Singh. The fort's wide gates creak on their massy liinges. I see a half-starved, but valiant column of warriors pour out, and, sword in hand, charge the right of yon dark line. — Yes, it is Goolab Bhye and Maun Singh that lead. — Oh ! spread thy mantle. Night, around the fair and heroic Goolab Bhye — make her terrible as darkness to the ffuiltv — to her foes ! Heard you not a death- groan ? — a warrior has fallen, pierced through his strong breast-plate by her searching spear ! Now peal from the left and rear the thundering blunder- busses of the armed Patans. Aghast, Gopal Singh looks behind, and sees the world in flames and arms. What are his matchlocks' puny crack, and whistling solitary ball, to ministers of destruc- tion that carry forty gaping deaths in every loud- tonorued breath astoundino- ? He achieves all that mortal man can achieve — he dies with ' Forward !' * Large crooked brazen trumpets. f Great Indian drums. THE VEIL. 265 in his throat, and ' Charge ! ' on his tongue. Slaugh- ter wades in blood. The Joudpoor veterans, press- ing round the body of their fallen chief, yield their souls, to a man, in defence of honour. Ail the young troops, and low caste auxiliaries, astonished, give way, and press upon one another, taking each friendly arm for that of an enemy. Whither can they fly ? If to the front, proua walls and battlements spurn them thence with thundering salutes ; if to the right, Maun Singh and Goolab Bhye drive them on the mountain's unscaleable cliffs : death and terror menace them on the left and rear. — O ! horrible ! O ! hom- ble ! they have forced their way over the reeking dead, to the embankment of the lake. — Splash ! crash ! splash ! I hear the fearful waves open to receive their tumbling carcasses, heaved onward by the mass behind. Like ants, the dead form a bridge for the living, till all, struggling, sink in gurgling convulsive gasps ! *' Morning, lovely morning wakes, silent, rosy and beautiful, as though no frightful vision had hovered over her pillow. O that it were a dream ! VOL. I. N 266 THE VEIL. Then would the wives and daughters of Raj poo- tana forget its frightful image of reality. They will ask, where are our husbands ? our fathers ? our children ? our brothers ? ' Welcomed to the heavenly camp, Sealed with the immortal stamp.' But where is Goolab Bhye ? In her palace amongst her maids of honour, behind yon silken purdah,* returning 'Akul Mahomed Khan the thanks of a princess for the actions of a hero." Thus, gentle reader, the bard closed his account of the discomfiture of the besieging army; and> before I proceed with my nan'ative, it may be necessary and interesting to illustrate one or two subjects in the above descriptive flight. The poet, with great delicacy, makes Goolab Bhye retire, after the battle, to her palace, where she is represented as conversing with the Afghan Chief from behind a. purdah, or curtain. It does not appear that Hindoo ladies, in ancient times, were in the habit of concealing their persons. This custom is believed to have been introduced after the Mahomedan invasion, and adopted by * Screen. THE VEIL. 267 the Hindoos from the Mussulmans, as a means of securing their wives and daughters from the in- sulting familiarity of licentious conquerors. In such parts of India as have never been much under the Mogul dominion, the ladies of rank take a very active part in public affairs. Gene- rally, however, the Hindoo ladies, when they hold communion with strangers, sit behind a curtain, where they can see and hear, without being seen. The propriety, therefore, of placing Goolab Bhye behind the purdah, while she thanked Lord Akul for the great services he had rendered her, is obvious. With equal consistency and attention to native manners, the princess is represented, in her great exigency, as leading her troops into battle ; and I shall endeavour to show, by a brief reference to historical facts, that such may have been the case. The Mahrattas have assumed the manners and privileges of the Rajpoots ; and their very name, compounded of Maha and Rajpoot, has been ad- duced as a proof that they were originally a higher branch of the Khatri caste than the Raj- ..n2 268 THE VEIL. poots; maha signifying great* Be this as it may, the Mahratta ladies have in modern times dis- played an energy and an activity worthy of remark, and illustrative of my text ; supporting the bard triumphantly in his tradition that Goolab Bhye headed her own army, and used the spear. Sir John Malcolm, in his conference with Bheema Bhye, the daughter of Jeswunt Row Holkar, in 1819, describes that young princess as expatiating with great eloquence on the duties of her station, when the interests of her family and nation were at stake. " It was," she said, " an obligation for a princess, in extreme cases (where she had neither husband nor son) to lead her troops in person to battle." This young lady rode with grace, and few excelled her in the management of the spear.f The history of Alia Bhye, the widow of Hol- kar, is a bright proof of the combined talent, virtue, and energy which may be exhibited in the * Rajpoot is derived from the Sanscrit words raga puttra, or the son of a raja, and means of the royal race. f Vide Memoir of Central India, vol. ii, p. 121. THE VEIL. 269' person of a female in India. This lady sat every day, for a considerable period, in open durbar or court, administering justice, and transacting busi- ness. From the age of thirty to that of sixty, or from 1765 to 1795, her labour was unremitting for the benefit of mankind. She used to say, that she deemed herself answerable to God for every exercise of power ; and, in the full spirit of a pious and benevolent mind, was wont to ex- claim, when urged by her ministers to acts of extreme severity, " Let us mortals beware how we destroy the works of the Almighty."* From Cape Comorin to the Himalaya moun- tains, and from Jaggernauth to Dwarka, which may be said to be the cardinal extremities of India, may be seen the charitable works of Alia Bhye, and her praises may be heard from the lips of all ranks and classes of men. I shall close this brief reference to history, in support of my representation of female manners in India, so contrary to \7hat they are commonly delineated, by an extract of an interesting nature to my » Vide Memoir of Central India, vol. i. p. 177. n3 270 THE VEIL. iair countrywomen, illustrative of female habits and feelings in the East.* a.^ j: . ■ Muchta Bhye, the only daughter and remain- ing child of Alia Bhye, upon the death of her husband, immediately declared her resolution to burn with his corpse. " No efforts (short of coercion) that a mother and a sovereign could use, were untried by the virtuous Alia Bhye to dissuade her daughter^ from the fatal resolution. She humbled herself to the dust before her, and entreated her, as she revered God, not to leave her desolate and alone upon earth. Muchta Bhye, although affectionate, was calm and resolved. " ' You are old, mother,' she said, ' and a few years will end your pious life. My only child and husband are gone, and when you follow, life, I feel, will be insupportable ; but the opportunity of terminating it with honour will then have passed.* " Alia Bhye, when she found all dissuasion una- vailing, determined to witness the last dreadful scene. She walked in the procession, and stood * Vide Memoir of Central India, vol. i, p. 199. THE VEIL. 2T1' near the pile, where she was supported by two Brahmans, who held her arms. Although obvi* ously suffering great agony of mind, she remained tolerably firm till the first blaze of the flame made her lose all self-command ; and, while her shrieks increased the noise made by the exulting shouts of the immense multitude that stood around, she was seen to gnaw in anguish those hands she could not liberate from the persons by whom she was held. After some convulsive efforts, she so far recovered as to join in the ceremony of bathing in the Nerbudda, when the body was consumed. She then retired to her palace, where for three days, having taken hardly any sustenance, she re- mained so absorbed in grief, that she never uttered a word. When recovered from this state, she seemed to find consolation in building a beautiful monument to the memory of those she lamented*" After describing the discomfiture and destruc- tion of the Joudpoor army, the minstrel went on to paint the situation of Goolab Bhye's affairs. Her betrothed husband was a prisoner in his own capital, which was now in possession of her invete- rate foe, Jugguth Singh. A charge of illegitimacy N 4 272 THE VEIL. had been preferred against him, and established as far as apparent proof could substantiate false- hood. It was necessary, therefore, not only to recapture the strong fortress of Jeypoor,' but to disabuse the respectable families whose credulity had been loaded with the monstrous fabrication respecting his alleged dishonour. Akul Mahomed Khan was not slow in devising a plan for accom- plishing the one object^; w^hile Maun Singh, who had escaped unhurt from the attack, was equally prompt in suggesting a mode for effecting the other. Jugguth Singh was notorious for his admiration of beauty. He had, in several instances, acted the part of King David to Uriah. The lovely daugh- ters of Circassia were purchased at the price of dia- monds as large and brilliant as their eyes, for his insatiable pleasure ; and it was well known that the Brinjarriesand Gwarriahs, who trade in beautiful female slaves, often came to him, with their mer- chandize in covered carriages, and palankeens, as to the best market. Akul Mahomed, therefore, selected some of his bravest Afghans, and, arming them in the most effective manner, directed him- THE VEIL. 273 self and them to be carried, closely muffled, in the eastern manner, as ladies, by a strong body of Rajpoots, disguised as Brinjarries and Gwar- riahs, into the fort of Jeypoor, and even to the palace in which Jugguth Singh was enjoying him- self in fancied prosperity and imagined security; So expeditious was the execution of this well-de- vised stratagem, and such precautionary measures were adopted, that not a surmise had reached Jeypoor of the destruction of Gopal Singh and the besieging army, before the disguised Afghansj followed by a strong detachment of troops, had reached the vicinity of their destination. In short, the close palankeens were passed, as a matter of course, with the greatest courtesy, and a smirking iaugh, by the guards at the gates, without any stop, hindrance, or examination. What followed was thus briefly and forcibly pourtrayed by the bard in the patch- work cloak, flowing beard, And conical cap. " Jugguth Singh and his brave Rajpoots have dined like warriors on strengthening venison, de- licate kid, and the various preparations of rice, n5 2T4 THE VEIL. with many a rich sweetmeat* and luscious fruit. The cool sherbet circles, the laughing liquors are quaffed, and the kusoombahf is poured into the washed palm of the goblet- formed hand. Seated on silken carpets, the dancing girls are now called for; and two hundred female slaves, all young and beautiful as celestial daughters, glittering in jewels, and resplendent in gold and silver mus- lins, accompanied by aged minstrels and musi- cians, enter the spacious hall, and, in mazy dance and animated gesture, display their fairy forms. O music ! thou art the food of love ! Who can see yon witching girls, with silver-belled feet, and cymballed hands, and bodies all motion, beat time in endless variety, and dart quick and burning glances from painted orbs more liquid than the soft gazelle's — * And look and laugh, and blush with quick surprise. Their lips all mirth, all ecstacy their eyes ! * without teelmg the boiling blood of passion burst from the heart? The beard of Jugguth Singh * Confectionary. | Liquid opium. THE VEIL. 275 rises with the flood of inflammation ; his voice is a sigh ; he is all rapture — when lo ! he hears his guards in the portal shout 'Treason! murder!' Swords clash — ^brands gleam — trumpets sound — drums beat. The roar of battle is heard within the palace-walls. Peal follows peal of thunder from Akul's forty-balled blunderbusses. The fe- male slaves press each other to death in struggles to gain the doors. Minstrels, musicians, and danc- ing girls lie in one promiscuous heap, gasping for breath, and torturing each other for life. Jug- guth Singh and his warrior friends are at length seen rising from the mass, and standing on the throng of dead and dying. Jugguth's turba,n is off: he has lost it in rushing through the press. His sabre flashes back from his hand the gleam of many a lamp and wax-light. I see Akul at the door. Jugguth's arm arrests his passage : his bald head meets the force of Mahomed's battle-axe, and he stands grim and horrible, cloven to tlie belt ! His upraised arm falls ; his cleft head drops on the spine; but, wedged by his followers, he remains their leading chief, till all sink around him into eternal forgetfulness. Hark ! the Patans N 6 2*76 THE VEIL. scale the walls ! Jeypoor is their's. Yon shout is the wild artillery of victory, and junction witli their chief." Thus, reader, by another bold and successful exploit, the city of Jej^oor was recaptured, and Dhokul Singh restored from a dungeon to a prin- cipality. He was conducted to Odeypoor in great state amidst a long procession of richly caparisoned elephants, bearing flags, golden howdahs, tom- toms, tooteries, and musicians, and surrounded by a vast force of horse and foot. Here his legiti- macy was established to the satisfaction of all, and the stain cast upon his honour and the purity of his race wiped away, in conformity to Rajpoot manners and customs. Of these manners and cus- toms a brief description may be interesting. A durbar, or full court of all the Rajpoot princes and chiefs, was called at the suggestion of Maun Singh ; young Maha Rana of Odeypoor, who was yet quite a boy, being seated on a throne. A speech was then addressed to the assembly, in which the manner of suborning testimony to prove the alleged illegitimacy of the Jej^oor Prince was exposed and reprobated; and it was stated tliat THE VEIL. 277 SO full a conviction did Bulwant Singh, who was the oldest and most respected branch of the Odeypoor family, feel respecting the honour and purity of Dhokul Singh, that he was ready to let him eat out of the same dish, and at the same time, with himself and his twelve sons. A mur- mur of applause and satisfaction immediately cir- cled through the crowd. Some liquid opium was then placed before the Maha Rana : the first in rank advanced, and, pouring some of this kusoom- bah into the royal palm, drank it. He then washed his own hands ; and after the next had poured some of the liquor into his right palm, made like a cup by nieans of the thumb to receive it, he also drank ; and thus followed every chief till they had all pledged themselves, by this solemn oath of drinking out of each other's hands, that they would abide by Bulwant Singh's decision. I need scarcely add, that the ceremony of eat- ing together was duly witnessed and attested ; and that the charminfc Goolab Bhve and Dhokul Singh were left in the full enjoyment of indescrib- able felicitv. Akul Mahomed Khan and his brave 278 THE VEIL. troops were rewarded in the most princely man- ner ; and the silver veil was hung up in Akul's hall, where the bard with patch-work cloak, flowing beard, and conical cap, described it as remaining to the present day. I have not been able to ascertain whether the foregoing tale be a piece of real history or not. The records of the Rajpoots are but imperfectly before the public ; but iji the late able Memoir of Sir John Malcolm's,* the pathetic and melancholy account of the Princess Kishen Kowur reminds us of the minstrel's legend. This beautiful young lady was one of the Odey- poor family, for whose hand a long and bloody war had been waged by numerous rivals. At length it only remained to be decided whether the fortune of war would bestow the charming prize on the Jeypoor or Joudpoor prince ; and a reconciliation between these Rajas being an object much desired by several chiefs, it was brought about by intrigue, that Kishen Kowur should be sacrificed to propitiate a family marriage between the Jeypoor and Joud- Vol. i. p. 330. THE VEIL. 279 poor princes. She was accordingly poisoned : h^r aunt, Chand Bhye, presented the chalice, and urged her to commit suicide, " to save her father, family, and tribe, from the struggles and miseries to which her high birth and evil destiny exposed them. The appeal was not in vain : she drank three poisoned cups, and before she took the last, which proved instantly fatal, she exclaimed, * This is the marriage to which I was foredoomed.' " All were acquainted with what was passing in the palace; and the extraordinary beauty and youth of the victim excited a feeling, which was general in a degree that is rare among the inha- bitants of India. This account is written," says Sir John, "from the report of several persons who were on the spot, and they agree in stating that the particulars of Kishen Kowur's death were no sooner spread through the town of Odeypoor than loud lamentations burst from every quarter, and expressions of pity at her fate were mingled with execrations on the weakness and cowardice of those who could purchase safety on such terms. In a short period after this tragical event, the public feeling was again excited by the death of the mo- 280 THE VEIL. ther of the princess, who never recovered the shock she received at the first intelligence of the fate of her beautiful and cherished daughter. If it is to the disgrace of the nobility of Ode^'poor that one of them (Adjeit Singh, whose intrigues brought her death about) prov^ed base, the cha- racter of this proud race was redeemed by the conduct of Sugwan Singh, chief of Karradur, who, the moment he heard of the proceedings in the palace, hastened from his residence to Odey- poor, and, dismounting from a breathless horse, went unceremoniously into the presence of his prince, whom he found seated with several of his ministers in apparent affliction. " ' Is the princess dead or alive T was his impa- tient interrogation : to which, after a short pause, Adjeit Singh replied by entreating him ' not to disturb the grief of a father for a lost child.' The old chief immediately unbuckled his sword, which, with his shield, he laid at the feet of the Maha Rana, saying, in a calm but resolute tone : " ' My ancestors have served your's for more than thirty generations, and to you I cannot utter what I feel ; but these arms shall never more be THE VEIL. 281 used in your service. As to you, villain !' he ex- claimed, turning to Adjeit Singh, ' who have brought this ignominy upon the Rajpoot name, may the curse of a father light upon you ! May you die childless !' " He retired from the assembly, leaving, accord- ing to the account of those that were present, an impression of awe and horror in the minds of all who heard him. Sugwan Singh lived for eight years after this occurrence ; but, though he continued in his allegiance, he never could be prevailed upon to resume his arms. The last child of Adjeit Singh died a short time ago, and the event was deem- ed, by the superstitious Rajpoots, a fulfilment of the curse that had been pronounced upon him. He maintained his influence over the mind of his weak prince till very lately, when he was disgraced, to the joy of the inhabitants of Odeypoor, who continued to consider him as the chief cause of the self-murder of their regretted princess." Thus I have thrown all the light in my power on the story of the Silver Veil. If I have been successful in amusing the reader, and in directing his attention to interesting topics, my object is 282 THE VEII,. fully attained in receiving his thanks. Indeed, I require the cheering promise of hope to animate my labour ; for here I sit cold, alone, and de- jected. Midnight has told her tale; my fire has burnt out ; the rain patters against my windows, and the wind whistles his winter-pipe sullenly around my dwelling. The dogs have barked an alarm — I start — lay down my pen — take it up again to say — " O view* my solitary labour, and the chance that it may be in vain, and feel for your author !" Yet, in bidding good night ! I say— " Oh ! could my mind, unfolded in my page, Enlighten climes and mould a future age ; To virtue wake the pulses of the heart, And bid the tear of emulation start ; Blest were my lines, though limited their sphere, Though short their date, as his who trac'd them here." Rogers. 283 m xii. IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. '^ ' A little more sleep and a little more slumber,' Thus he wastes all bis days and his hours without number j And when he gets up he sits folding his hands, Or walks about saunt'ring, or trifling he stands." Watts. There are, in every one's neighbourhood, and within the sphere of every man's eye, characters from whose words and actions useful instruction may be drawn. I have always made it my busi- ness, in changing my place of residence, to look about for subjects worthy of being sketched; and the following representations are drawn from life, if not by a masterly at least by a faithful hand. Paddy , one of my labourers, attracted attention by his wretched appearance. He was a thin muscular old man, with indications of former 284 IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. Strength and activity. His beard was neglected, black, and dirty ; his look was haggard ; an ashy hue diffused itself over his emaciated projecting cheeks. The fire of his retiring eyes was quench- ed, and their stare met my gaze like the vacant glassy orbs of a wax-work image of man. His black filthy hair hung over his ears in a bushy form ; and when he took off his old torn hat, on my addressing him, I ^aw that he was bald to the crown. I know not how to describe his dress. He wore what had once been a black coat, but it was now in rags. It had not been patched or mended : it was knotted in several places where it had given way ; in others it was tied with string ; and it hung on his back so as to display through its various rents a coarse and dirty shirt. His brogues were such as to admit wet at every step he took ; and his feet were without stockings, some remains of that part of attire which he had on having been quite worn away from the ankle downwards. He had a band of tow round his old hat ; and his ragged coat was fastened at his breast with a peg instead of a button. In short, I had not seen such a picture of negligence and IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. 285 apparent wretchedness in his industrious class of hfe ; and I inquired into his circumstances. His brief history and character may be thus pour- tray ed : — Poor Paddy is the son of an honest man, who brought up a large family on four acres of land. Five of Paddy's brothers live in the neighbour- hood ; but they have each a spot of ground, and exhibit no such want as he does. When Paddy married, which love, the soul of an Irishman, led him to do at an early age, his father built a cabin for him, and gave him a good potatoe-gar- den. Here he has lived ever since. At present he has eleven children, several of whom are now men and women. Their cabin consists of only a kitchen and one other room. How they huddle together in it is to me wonderful. Of all the Irish cabins I have seen, Paddy's, I believe, is the worst. It is built of loose stone, the clay that originally cemented it having been washed out of the walls by the rain. It has only a hole in the roof as a chimney ; no fire-place but a couple of stones under the aperture for smoke, upon which the pot rests to boil. The inside is black with soot. Tvro 286 IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. windows which it originally had are shut up with stones. The door is broken. Just before it is the dunghill, where all the filth is thrown out. The roof has not been thatched or repaired for many a year ; it admits the rain in various places, and a trench has been dug inside the cabin to carry off the water. My sketch is not exaggerated, yet I should scarcely have believed such an account had I not seen the reality. And what, said I to my- self, can be the cause of all this wretchedness ? It was indolence. The old man possessed not energy enough to force his children to be busy ; and they were ail suffering under the scourge of sloth, whose lashes its victims appear not to feel acutely, but waste away under chronic disease, without an effort for preservation, although well aware of their necessities. " Why do you not repair your house, Paddy ?" said I. — " Och ! I can't, your honour," answered he. " Why do you not make your boys gather potatoe-stalks in my field (I had offered them to him before) to keep the rain out of your cabin ? " asked I. — " Och ! they won't, master," replied he. IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. 28T It would be uninteresting to go on with poor Paddy's insipid replies. His wife and his children had all fallen into the most inveterate habits of laziness. The old woman sat in the corner smoking instead of spinning, or mending her hus- band's clothes ; and her daughters were suffered to gad about staring at strangers. They soon learned to be fond of gaudy-coloured dresses, which stimulated them to partial starts of indus- try ; but as their object was of a selfish nature, the old father received no benefit from their spinning. With love of finery they became vain and frivo- lous ; and, I am informed, such was the folly of their character, that although Paddy owned no^ thing in the shape of clothes, besides the dress I have described, and an old great coat, they would, before strangers, ask him, " Why, father, do you not put on a better coat at your work?" As for the boys, their delight was to lie at full stretch in the sun. There was only one spade in the family, which Paddy was willing to use whenever he could get work ; but, instead of helping him, these heart- less idlers would see him, after his work, go to the bog for sods to burn, and often to Newry for pota- 288 IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. toes to eat. I have heard him say to one of them, " Jemmy, dear, do now get up, and go for a creel of sods." The graceless reply was, " Och ! father, do now go for them yourself." Paddy, instead of obeying Solomon's excellent rule, laughed at what should have pierced his heart with grief. When I attempted, enraged at the demoralizing scene, to do what his father should have done, the young dog ran oiF like a hare ; and the old man, shaking his head with satisfaction, asked, " Has he not a pair of good legs, your honour ? " I have given almost as many touches to this gloomy sketch as are necessary to my purpose. Such is the perversity of Paddy's disposition, that he prides himself on keeping all his children at home, and says, " Och ! servants are never thought any thing of." He is, moreover, of opinion that he should be rewarded by government for rearing ^such a fine family of stout boys, although his eldest son has deserted once from his majesty's service, having enlisted in consequence of the seduction of a neighbour's daughter, which, it is much feared, will be the unhappy case of all his own flaunting girls. IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. 289 Paddy is one of those unhappy men who have susceptibility without energy or talent. He feels his misery, but murmurs and suffers. Unlike the crow in the fable, that saw water in a pitcher, and devised an ingenious mode of getting at it, by throwing in small stones till the fluid rose to the top, he would die of want before his brain would assist him with useful invention. Yet his head is tolerably well formed. He has a small female-like eye, brows covered with thinly scat- tered grey hair ; his forehead declines from a per- pendicular, and his organs of reflection seem not well developed ; but his cranium has a fine arch ; and, with the exception of the forehead, it indi- cates full mental powers and strong passions. I shall now turn from poor Paddy to another subject of an opposite character. Ned is about as old as Paddy. His father was a day-labourer ; but he left his children an estate by giving them habits of great industry. Ned was kept out at respectable service for several years ; and he had an opportunity of seeing the different operations of agriculture on an extensive scale, and profited by his observation. When VOL. I. o 290 IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. about six-and-twenty winters old, he chose a wife. His choice was a happy one : like himself, his partner was full of industry ; the best spinster in the country was not her equal ; and, though she soon gave Ned a house full of children, she taught her girls the mystery of the wheel as fast as they could turn it, and money came in every market- day. Ned, at last, found himself too warm as a cotter : he had an excellent character ; and he gained the preference as tenant for four acres of land in my neighbourhood, where he has resided about nine years. Steady industry is generally rewarded by its own exertion. Ned is now in comfortable and comparatively wealthy circumstances. He has a substantial house, consisting of a kitchen and two large rooms, with a range of outhouses adjoining for his cattle. His land has increased ; and his stock now consists of five cows and a horse, with several pigs. You see the character of the man in every thing about him : neatness is combined with comfort; his garden is well supplied with vegetable store, and free from weeds. About his house there is an air of snugness ; it is well washed IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. 291 and whitened, and has a healthy and thriving aspect ; his wife and children are in homely, but warm and decent garb ; and, in his own appear- ance, he displays care and respectability. Although Ned was well able to provide work for all his children at home, he sent some of them out, as he had been himself, to good service ; considering it a useful trial of their obedience and integrity. They all seem to be actuated by one spirit, and to consider the interest of their parents as their own. It is a pleasure to witness their aflPectionate attention to the old man. He received a paralytic stroke about a year ago, which de- prived him of the use of his left side ; since which time he has not been able to do more than super- intend the labours of his family. "Ah !" thought I, when I beheld the tender care of his daughters and sons, and saw how anxious they were to please him, "here is the reward of training up a child in the path he should go." I have often dropped in, and seen the old couple (who cannot read) listening with great attention to a chapter of the Testament, read by one of the boys or girls; for the young ones, since the spread of the Lancas- o 2 293 IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. terian system, have all been sent to school ; while Paddy's children were permitted to run about at pleasure. Ned's conversation is that of a strong unlettered mind; he has collected much practical wisdom from accurate observations on men, animated nature, and things. He is of middle stature, strongly formed ; his face is a serious thoughtful one ; he has a heavy brow, and a clear, high intel- lectual front. Thus I have instanced the progress of idleness and industry in two living characters. In practi- caleffects, the one debilitates the human soul; the other rouses the latent energies of our nature. Idleness generates poverty, under whose influence man becomes worse than barbarous ; he is de- moralized ; his faculties grow torpid ; and at length, sunk in sin and sorrow, he is dead to duty, and alive but in the sphere of sloth and misery. Industry, like idleness, has the power of self-crea- tion ; it grows and strengthens by what produces it ; and our best properties are vivified and expanded by its progenitor — Necessity ; which, cheered by hope, rouses exertion, stimulates per- IDLENESS AND INDUSTRY. 293 severance, and embellishes the useful member of society with all his virtues. Should the reader belong to a rank in society, where wealth secures him from the operation of necessity, by all means I would urge him to substitute ambition, or some other powerful mo- tive, as a stimulant. It is melancholy to see many around us, passing down the stream of time, as though they had no concern with life, but in the promotion of little selfish ends, which neither benefit fellow-men, nor raise a monument of their being, when no more seen on earth. Is there a human soul that does not pant for immortality ? The humble writer of these sketches feels his hope warm at an idea so pregnant with fire. His writings evidence his perseverance ; and he wishes not his aspiration to be concealed, that, when he shall have passed that " bourne whence no traveller returns," these sketches may survive in their utility, and tell the industrious of a brother numbered with the happy dead. o3 295 N'. XIII. THE VOW. ** The hour arrives, the moment wish'd and fear'd ; The child is born, by many a pang endear'd. And now the mother's ear has caught his cry ; Oh, grant the cherub to her asking eye ! \ He comes; she clasps him. To her bosom press'd, He drinks the balm of life and drops to rest." Rogers. Such tales as that of " The Silver Veil," related in Nos. X. and XL, when I heard them in India, always afforded me so much pleasure, that I calculate, perhaps erroneously, on the im- pression the reader may receive from the follow- ing effort of my memory to prolong his entertain- ment. To judge of others by ourselves, in mat- ters of instinct and reason, may be a proper mode ; but, in the world of taste, I question whether the rule holds good. The man of fancy and the man of mere understanding will agree, without hesita- o 4 296 THE vow. tion, to demonstrative or mathematical results ; but no two beings in existence would form a more dif- ferent opinion respecting the merits of a romance. However, trusting to the reader's liberal dispo- sition to regard the different dishes of which my banquet consists, with a friendly glance, I ven- ture to give " The Vow," a popular Oriental tale, founded on an event universally believed in Hindostan Proper. As in " The Veil," I shall occasionally drop the strain of my minstrel for my own plain narrative style, and take it up again when I can do so with effect. " Lara, the once lovely Lara, is withered by time, the destroyer of all but himself. Those lips, once like parted twin rose-buds, are now to be com- pared to a double sear-leaf. Lara, the aged Lara, sees death, grim and terrible, before her, ready to strike the long-protracted blow. Hope flies back- ward as the tyrant-arm draws nigh. O ! hear with what emotion she invokes the name of Um- moon, her gallant son. See how the messengers, in quick succession, gallop from the palace, to hurry Ummoon to the presence of his mother ! Oh God ! Oh God ! my God ! ' she cries in THE VOW. 297 anguish, ' spare me but till he comes, that I may breathe into his ear, with my dying sigh, My Vow. There, at length, he is. I see him leap from his foam-covered steed ! ' Now his mother hangs upon his neck. The secret is told. Where are young Ummoon's sinews ? He, who has proudly sustained the weight of tottering battles, now staggers under the load of his wasted mother. See how he hangs over her silken bed, with wild- ness in his eye, and expectation in his gesture ; but Lara will never more open the earthly por- tals of her once silver voice. Her spirit has mingled with invisibility. The funeral pile ascends in smoke and blaze : all that was Lara, except yon urn of ashes, now is air. " Oh for a pencil dipped in madness to paint young Ummoon's anguish ! What Jias crazed his brain ? His is not the calmness of natural sor- row for worn-out humanity. See with what strides space is passed, as though oblivion were found in furious motion! Now, exhausted, he pants ; and hark ! in wild accents he thus moans : — " ' Shew me the leap ! Were it deep as hell o5 298 THE vow. from heaven, and wide as ocean's walls,* my bound would clear it. Destruction cannot touch me. I live out of myself. I exist but in my Luxma ! She is my life ! my light ! my soul ! I cannot cease to be while she is. Oh mo- ther ! mother ! mother ! what hast thou done ? But thy chained soul shall be set free. I see thee beckon the way that I m^ust go. On ! on ! on ! I follow to my fate ! ' " Then the bard describes the unfortunate Um- moon as renewing his furious strides ; as grasping at the shadow of his imagination ; and as leaping wildly to clear a horrible gulf that he saw imaged from an air-drawn precipice. After this the cause of his insanity is explained. I conceive that I can best convey the substance of the min- strel's rhapsody by reducing it into the form of a plain story. Lara was the daughter of a Hindoo nobleman of renown, whose wealth was great, whose bene- volence was unbounded. My original does not mention the latitude and longitude of his glitter- * The Hindoos believe that the sea is surrounded by walls. THE VOW. 299 ing palace; and as I consider these particulars immaterial, except unto shrivelled-up antiquaries and dry geographers, two species of the curious for whom I feel no profound admiration, I shall not refer to authorities, nor shall I obtrude my own surmises on the subject. At a tender age she was betrothed to a youth of her own rank in life. He was the only son of a lord, esteemed by high and low. As Lara and the young noble- man approached the years of maturity, their breasts were warmed by the chastest flames of pure love for each other. Nothing was ever seen in the East so gorgeously magnificent as the cere- mony of their final marriage. The road along which the bridegroom had to conduct his blush- ing and beautiful lady, to the palace prepared for their residence, was covered with cloth of gold, and perfumed with uttur of roses. Though it extended for many miles, galleries were erected along each side for the population of the country to sit and behold the procession ; and over them, as well as to screen the road from the rays of the sun, were spread canopies of silk, fringed with glittering ornaments, which, viewed at such a o 6 300 THE VOW. height from the ground, presented to the eye all the magic of diamonds, pearls, rubies, amethysts, &G. glowing with the superadded lustre which gold and silver lend to the most valuable gems. Bands of music, and innumerable sets of dancing- girls and jugglers, were stationed on platforms all along the way, to impart life and variety to the scene. Expectation < was long held in excite- ment. At length the head of the cavalcade was seen, and every neck was stretched almost to dis- location, by intense curiosity. A long advanced- guard of cavalry, spearmen, and infantry, in time came slowly forward; then great numbers of camels in rich clothing, with flags, streamers, and instruments of music. The elephants followed, bearing gold and silver howdahs; and in the centre of them were the bride and bridegroom, seated on a low throne, in an indescribably grand carriage, shaped like a pagoda, and drawn by eight beautiful elephants. Lara's appearance must be left to imagination ; for such was the brilliancy of her glow from jewels of inestimable value, that no eye could rest upon her or upon her lord. Like the sun, shrouded in their own THE VOW. 301 brightness, they dazzled, by overpowering splen- dour, the aching gaze of mortals. The rear- guard was composed in like manner as the ad- vance ; and — ^without entering into particulars — let imagination picture to itself all that art can accomplish in magnificence for an Indian wed- ding in high life, and an idea may be formed of the nuptials of this envied pair. Let us, therefore, conceive Lara and her hus- band settled in the full enjoyment of connubial bliss ; each a world to each ; and existing only in reflected life. Such was the love that Lara created in her lord's bosom, that he was perfectly content with her alone, and derived all the enjoyment from her accomplished society which the custom and fashion of his country have characterized as belonging only to endless variety. Many, indeed, of his countrymen, who found the charms of seve- ral hundreds of ladies insufficient for their happi- ness, wondered ; and, had ocular demonstration not convinced them of the fact, Lara's empire over her husband would have been deemed impos- sible. But there is no stability in earthly felicity ; 302 THE vow. and, two short years after marriage, the poet thus describes Lara : " Why are the tears trickling from Lara's bright eyes, while she gazes from her garden bower on yon peasant's wife, with her sweet laughing babe sipping life from her bosom ? I hear her sigh ; yes, I hear her exclaim — ' Oh, fortunate daugh- ter of poverty ! would that I were as thou ! My God ! my God ! hast thou forsaken me, that the curse of childlessness should visit my father's daughter, and the darling of my mother ? ' But see, her husband is approaching ; she wipes her dew-bespangled aspect, and dresses her gay look in the smile of the rainbow ; he presses Lara to his heart; he kisses her eyes, her cheeks, her forehead, and says : ' My love, my only joy, why do I trace care on thy brow ? Can sorrow have nestled near thy heart? Oh, let me banish it for ever ! ' But Lara drives suspicion from his breast, and with sweetly-touching tenderness, alleges the absence of him, her sun, her source of warmth and joy, as the only cause of the clouds which occasionally rest on her. Then all is rapture ; THE VOW. 303 and hope, smiling in tears, paints the future in the loveliest hues of bliss." Thus pass several years away without offspring. In India, the two greatest misfortunes that fate can inflict is, not to have a son, and to have an unmarried daughter. The grief of Lara's lord may, therefore, be conceived. In short, it began visibly to impair his health, and to embitter the happiness of his existence. His efforts to sup- press his growing sorrow, and to cheer his beloved wife, who was evidently sinking under secret grief, made him wretched, because it deprived him of sympathy ; and to wear the face of gladness, when the heart is tortured, is dreadful. As to poor Lara, she beheld all her bright visions of hope fade into nothingness. Indeed, the poet described the contrast of her situation in language almost as beautiful, and to the same effect, as the fine Hnes of Gray : *' Fair laughs the morn, and soft the zephyr blows. While proudly riding o'er the azure realm, In gilded trim the gallant vessel goes, Youth at the prow, and Pleasure at the helm, Regardless of the sweeping whirlwind's sway. That, hush'd in grim repose, expects its ev'ning prey." 304 THE vow. When the gay Lara was married, and con- ducted by her fond husband to his home, she was hke the gilded gallant vessel ; now, torn by anguish and disappointment, she resembled the shattered bark, floating down life's tide at the mercy of passion's current. But her feelings will be best pourtrayed by my attempt to translate a little song which she is described as singing in her gai'- den bower, when she supposed herself unobserved, and accompanying the words with her Indian guitar, of which she was a perfect mistress. SONG. MY LIGHT OF LIFE. My light of life ! sweet Hope ! oh, why Hast thou forsaken me ? The jewel dearest to my eye, Bright smiling infancy, - Press'd to my mother-heart, oh, let me see ! Then come, despair, and ev'ry ill, That all the elements distil, I reck not your behest ; Steep me in bitterness of woe- Let Lara fullest anguish know — But let Ummoon be blest. Oh, trust me, love, I do not blame Thy grief for an extinguish'd name. THE VOW. 30o The tear thou hid'st my mind beholds ; Affection all the soul unfolds ! And such wild fondness tortures me. I'd life resign to give thy wish to thee ; For trust me, love, I do not blame Thy grief for an extinguish'd name. Ummoon is represented as overhearing this melancholy effusion of sorrow ; entering, kissing his lady, and taking the instrument, and thus accompanying it in reply : SONG. You blame, angelic girl, you say, The secret wish that thrills my breast ; How could my heart, all thine, display One feeling hostile to thy rest ? Oh ! blame me, if in word or deed, I ever prove to thee unkind ; Oh ! blame me when I do not speed To kiss the tear-drop from thy mind ; For in the mirror of thine eye, I see reflected ev'ry grief. Oh ! blame then not my anxious sigh ; I sigh to give my heart relief. Thou art my life, my light, my soul, My all in all, the world to me ; Oh ! blame me when I can control The sympathy of love for thes. 306 THE vow. In absence, like a sever'd shoot, I feel a bleeding, with'ring death ; I pine and die from thee, my root. My nourishment, my strength, my breath. But be all joy, all ecstacy, And I shall never more complain ; Whate'er thou would'st that I should be, Thy wish the secret wish shall gain. Since heav'n decrees that Ummoon's line Shall with his vital breath expire, To all eternity be mine. And full shall be the cup of my desire. Alas ! the sentimental rhapsodies of love are often theories of nature, unsubstantial in practi- cal experience. " Lips, though blooming, must still be fed ; " and the general wish of the society to which we belong, rendered deeply permanent, mixed up with our very form of thought by reite- rated precept, will turn upon us like lurking con- science, take us by surprise, and drag the villain secrets of our bosoms into the world of publicity. Thus it was with Ummoon ; he never could satisfy his pining wife that his heart felt what his tongue freely expressed. Somewhat of disquiet conti- nually baffled his endeavour, and mutual unhap- THE VOW. 307 piness constituted the body of the lives of this affectionate pair. There are in India several temples to which pilgrimages are made, for the purpose of propi- tiating the goddess of fruitfulness. These sacred fanes, called lingums, Lara had visited, and mea- sured the distance, in one or two instances, un- known to her husband, with her soft and delicate body : she had expended large sums of money in paying brahmans and impostors, who deluded her with vain promises; and at length, in a fit of despair, she made a vow to Onkur Mundattah, that, if he would bestow upon her a son, she would devote him, at the age of maturity, as a voluntary sacrifice, in gratitude for this special mark of favour from the sanguinary deity. Onkur Mundattah is a celebrated sacred preci- pice in Hindostan Proper, near the river Ner- budda. It has from time immemorial been famous for the miracles produced by vows of self-devo- tion ; and for the numbers of voluntary victims which annually crowd to it, and, under terrific ceremonies, the recital of which cause our flesh to creep, cast themselves over its parapet to be 308 THE vo^r. dashed to atoms on rocks at the depth of one hun« dred and twenty feet. There are several moun- tains of this description in India, at which suicide is even yet too frequent. The victim, after he devotes himself, is not allowed to decline ; for should he, upon approaching the top, evince any reluctance, he is pushed over by armed brahmans : to render his death easy and certain, poison is mixed with the last food he eats. However, there are, I believe, more romantic stories about Onkur Mundattah than any of the other horrible places of such superstitious murders. Lara having taken this vow, and submitted to all the forms and expenses prescribed by her goo- ru, or confessing priest, was at last gratified by finding her hope crowned with fruition. I need not attempt to describe the extravagant joy of the profusely-generous Ummoon. When his son was born, who was named after his father, the whole country participated in the parental joy, and the ceremony prescribed on such occasions was so grand as to be a matter for imagination rather than description. Lara concealed the vow she had made from her enraptured lord ; and young -THE VOW. 309 Ummoon grew up, enjoying all the delusions of hope, as though no sinister fate had hung over his devoted head. It is by no means customary in all the castes, or tribes of Hindoos, to perform suttee : that is, for wives to burn themselves on the death of their husbands. In many places the custom of depriv- ing children of both parents who have had the misfortune to lose one, is regarded with abhor- rence. Lara belonged to a sect of this mode of thinking ; and when her beloved Ummoon, at an advanced age, paid the debt of nature, she lived to weep over his remains with all the bitterness of grief. Time at length cast a veil over her loss, and enabled her to dwell upon its remembrance with composure. Sometimes, indeed, she almost rejoiced, for it seemed to be the will of heaven that she should remain to see her vow performed without inflicting pain on the affections of a doat- ing father, who could not be supposed to view the self-devotion of his son to the cruel Onkur Mun- dattah, without emotion bordering on frenzy. In the meantime young Ummoon had advanced throuo^h the sta^e of childhood, which the min- 310 THE VOW. strel described, without forgetting such beautiful pictures as, " The tear forgot as soon as shed ;'* or the still more classical expression of the same natural thought, by Sir Walter Scott, in Rokeby: '• Tlie tear down childhood's cheek that flows, Is like the dew-drop on the rose ; "When next the summer -breeze comes by And shakes the bush, the flower is dry." The charms of childhood, however, exist more iii poetry than in reality : memory gilds with the splitter of smiling pleasure what was once deform- ed by the corrosive drop of pain ; and we look back from a state of suifering to a stage of thought- lessness, unmindful that when in it we were un- happy. Young Ummoon perhaps had as small a share of childhood's alternations of sorrow and joy, as falls to the lot of human beings. At a very tender age he was betrothed to a most beautiful and promising child, called Luxma, of whom, as they grew up together, he became as much ena- moured as ever his worthy father had been of Lara. His temper was of a tenor so even, that his life's course resembled that of a fine river, THE VOW. 311 subject neither to overflow its banks, nor to be dried up by the heat of summer. He was all that Denham has described the Thames, and " gentle, yet not dull." Indeed I am convinced that our dispositions, as well as our constitutional qualities, are hereditary ; and that when once a happy turn of mind is generated, it reproduces itself as cer- tainly as the king's evil, the gout, and other terri- ble inflictions which may be legacied to offspring, as a counterpoise to the gifts of fortune. This Ummoon had no such deduction from his felicity as the other. His lady loved him with all the fervency of the female soul ; and they were blessed with a numerous family, all miniatures exceeding each other like six steps of a beautiful staircase, at the period when their father is repre- sented by the minstrel as receiving the fatal dis- closure fr^m his mother ; a disclosure an hich pro- duced the terrible change in his deportment I have endeavoured to describe. He was then about seven-and-twenty years old. Children are educated in India with such ideas of obedience to parents, that instances of undutiful conduct are very rare. A son will not sit in the presence of 312 THE VOW. his father without beuig desired; and the parental authority does not cease with the maturity of tlie child, but continues as long as the parent's life. Every son considers himself bound to perform certain sacred rites to ensure the transmigration of the souls of his parents ; and all good Hindoos are ready and willing to sacrifice themselves, if it be the will of the authors of their being. The Grecian hero sacrificing his lovely daughter, who kisses his hand and implores him to strike ; and the meek Isaac asking his father, " where is the lamb ? " have been often, and are still acted in Hindostan. No result of education, however, can stifle the regret which man feels on being called to quit objects dearer than life, and to minojle with inhabitants of the sjrave. When Ummoon heard his mother's secret, he had just sufiicient reason left to keep i^buried in his own breast ; to feign a long journey of indis- pensable necessity ; and to separate himself from his beloved Luxma and children, preparatory to his self-immolation at Onkur Mundattah, which is represented as sevieral hundreds of miles fi'om his place of residence. I shall not attempt to de- THE VOW. 313 scribe the manner in which he is pourtrayed as bidding adieu to his family; kissing his babe, and repeatedly coming back for another last em- brace of his poor wife, whose agitation amounted to a thrilling surmise that somewhat of dreadful import had happened, and that again they should never meet in this world. Well, they parted in anguish, and the brain-racked Ummoon performed his journey to the precipice, where he conformed to all the prescribed ceremonies, and a day was appointed for the sacrifice. His evident insanity was no impediment, for nearly in every case of superstitious suicide, the victims deprive them«- selves of reason by an intensity of enthusiastic excitement. He was, therefore, arrayed in the fantastic costume of a heavenly devotee ; shaved and bathed, painted and stamped, oiled and per- fumed ; and — amidst crowds of Brahmans, loud shouts of an assembled multitude, wild tones of shrill instruments, and loud roars of great drums and prodigious conches — drawn in a gilded car of state, by naked enthusiasts decorated in the most grotesque manner, towards the parapet of the VOL. I. p 314 THE VOW. precipice; flags flying, streamers glancing, rockets exploding, and a hundred thousand spectators observing and screaming from the rocks and spaces around. Near the horrible gulf, he is represented as alighting from the car of triumph, and, with all the madness which the minstrel before describes, panting towards the leap, and calling to his winged mother, whom, in his mind's eye, he saw before him. A body of naked and hideously painted gosains, or religious armed mendicants, with long two-edged swords, follow close behind, brandishing their weapons in all directions, and dancing to the music of loud clarionets and cymbals. Ummoon darts forward, and all eyes that have approached a station from which the gulf may be seen, behold him strug- gling and whirling in air ; till at length, become small as a crow by distance, he seems dashed to the ground and broken upon a rock. The crowd stationed at the bottom of the mountain are described like pigmies, running in shoals to- wards the spot, and raising and turning the formless little creature, which they enveloped, THE VOW. 315 and soon completely concealed from those above. At this mountain, should any victim escape unhurt, it is imperative on the Brahmans, the people, and the government, to elevate him to the rank of a Raja, or King; wealth must pour upon him in an inexhaustible flow ; during life his person is held sacred ; and he is regarded to all eternity as superhuman and co-equal with divi- nity. The utmost anxiety was therefore evinced by the immense crowd that capped the mountain, to know the state of Ummoon, and to ascertain whether a miracle had saved him ; but, such is the frightful nature of the precipice, and such a distance must be traversed before a pass to its foot can be found, that curiosity was not soon gratified. Meanwhile Argoom, the faithful servant of Ummoon, seeing his master take the frightful leap, became wild with grief, ran in a state of madness at the rate of a hundred miles a day, till he returned to Luxma, and made her acquainted with the dreadful fate of her beloved lord. p 2 316 THE VOW. Who can paint the anguish of her mind ? Her long black hair is represented as floating over her shoulders — her beautiful eye as glazed and fixed in terrible unconsciousness of the external world —her tongue as still and motionless — her lips as moving in convulsive efforts to make known her feelings — her bosom as tumultuous as the ocean, heaving and throbbing with distraction^ — her whole air changed to a statue-like expression — and her bewitching features to a death-like hue and im- movability. Her children and friends, in all the attitudes of inexpressible woe, are painted about her ; but, as I feel it would require the pencil of the world's first poet to render justice to the scene, I shall pass it over in silence. The sequel is given as nearly as my poor conception can approach the ideas of the minstrel ; but the oriental ex- pression, and fanciful colouring of the piece, I venture not to touch. '' Who sits in yon triumphant car, drawn by ten thousand lords of creation ? See the long cables by which they drag its massy tall fabric, and deem it an honour to touch the sacred rope 1 Look at THE VOW. SIT the Brahmans, how they hymn from its seven stories, and stand in its balconies ninety feet high, waving flags, and addressing the people, who appear as a sea of turbans, far as the eye can reach. " It is young Ummoon. He is now a god, and a king. His winged mother was seen by the people at the foot of the mountain, supporting him in his fall ; and the voices of angels were heard welcoming him to the soft carpet which they formed on the rock by expanding their silken bodies. Now he sits on a throne surrounded by his thakoors, or noblemen. He knows all that is, was, and shall be; and administers justice like Brahma. Whose angel-like lips, rosy and soft as love, stand open and ready, like sweet portals, to receive him when he retires into the bower of domestic bliss ? It is his own — his ever young, his ever fresh - his ever gay Luxma ! That is no statue which now extends its ivory arms and small warm fingers to encircle a husband, and press a loved lord to a beating fond heart. " O children, honour your parents — obey their 318 THE VOW. . ice, and hear their counsels ! — Angels will bear you up, like young Ummoon in his fall, and pros- perity will spread her garment over you. I.ove and glory shall be your reward." END OF VOL. I. yRlNTKD BY COX AND BAYLIS, U RF.AT (JtTEEN STllEKT. . (> ' UNIVERSfTY OF ILUNOIS-URBANA 3 0112 056523704