Twelve Years of a Soldier's Life in India

William Stephen Raikes Hodson, third son of Rev. George Hodson, afterwards Archdeacon of Stafford and Canon of Lichfield, was born at Maisemore Court, near Gloucester, on 19th March, 1821.

As a boy, his affectionate disposition and bright and joyous character endeared him greatly to his family, and made him a general favorite with all around him, old and young, rich and poor. That which characterized him most was his quickness of observation and his interest in everything going on about him. By living with his eyes and ears open, and never suffering anything to escape his notice, he acquired a stock of practical knowledge which he turned to good account in his after-life. With the exception of a short time spent with a private tutor, the Rev. E. Harland, he was educated at home till he went to Rugby, in his fifteenth year. Home life, however, had not prevented him from growing up an active, high-spirited boy, full of life and energy.

His feats of activity at Rugby still live in the remembrance of his contemporaries and the traditions of the school. The following is an extract from a paper in the Book of Rugby School, published in 1856:-

Who does not remember the fair-haired, light-complexioned active man whose running feats, whether in the open fields or on the gravel walks of the Close, created such marvel among his contemporaries. He has carried his hare and hounds into his country's service, and as commandant of the gallant corps of Guides, has displayed an activity and courage on the wild frontier of the Punjaub, the natural development of his early prowess at Crick and Brownsover.

A very similar notice appeared in a periodical during the recent campaign:-

The Rugb?ans have had their Crick run. Six miles over heavy country, there and back, to the school gates by the road, is no mean distance to be done in one hour twenty-nine minutes.

There was a day when the gallant leader of Hodson's Horse always led in this run. We think we see "larky Pritchard," as he was familiarly designated, in his blue cloth jacket, white trousers, his well-known belt, and his "golden hair," going in front with his nice easy stride, (for he never had any very great pace, though he could last forever,) and getting back coolly and comfortably to "Bons" when the rear hounds were toiling a mile behind. There never was such a boy to run over, after second lesson, to Dunchurch to see the North Warwickshire, or to give himself a "pipe-opener" to Lutterworth and back between callings over, till the doctor vowed he would injure his heart. How true it is that men who have distinguished themselves most in school sports come out the best at last.

It was not, however, only in active sports that he showed ability. As head of a house, during the later portion of his Rugby life, he gave equal indications of "administrative capacity."

His tutor, (the present Bishop of Calcutta,) speaking of his having been transferred to his house, in which there were then no pr?postors, "because, from his energetic character and natural ability, he seemed to Dr. Arnold likely to give me efficient help," continues: "He gave abundant proof that Arnold's choice had been a wise one. Though he immediately re?stablished the shattered prestige of pr?positorial power, he contrived to make himself very popular with various classes of boys. The younger ones found in him an efficient protector against bullying. Those of a more literary turn found in him an agreeable and intelligent companion, and were fond of being admitted to sit in his study and talk on matters of intellectual interest. The democrats had got their master, and submitted with a good grace to power which they could not resist, and which was judiciously and moderately exercised. The régime was wise, firm, and kind, and the house was happy and prosperous.

"From all that I knew of him, both at Rugby and afterwards, I was not surprised at the courage and coolness which the Times compared 'to the spirit of a Paladin of old.' I cannot say how much I regret that I shall not be welcomed in India by the first head of my dear old house at Rugby."

From Rugby my brother went, in October, 1840, to Trinity College, Cambridge. Here, as might have been expected from his previous habits, he took an active interest in boating and other athletic amusements, while at the same time he by no means neglected the more serious and intellectual pursuits of the University. He had a very considerable acquaintance with, and taste for, both classical and general literature, but a constitutional tendency to headache very much stood in the way of any close application to books; and, after he had taken his degree in 1844, was one strong reason for his deciding on an active rather than a studious life. The Indian army seemed to offer the best opening, but while waiting for a cadetship, in order to prevent superannuation he obtained, through the kind introduction of Lord de Saumarez, a commission in the Guernsey Militia from Major-General W. Napier, the Lieutenant-Governor, and there commenced his military life. From the first he felt that the profession of a soldier was one that required to be studied, and took every opportunity of mastering its principles.

On his leaving Guernsey to enter the Hon. East India Company's service, Major-General W. Napier bore this testimony to his character: "I think he will be an acquisition to any service. His education, his ability, his zeal to make himself acquainted with military matters, gave me the greatest satisfaction during his service with the militia."

My brother landed at Calcutta on the 13th of September, 1845, and, with as little delay as possible, proceeded up the country to Agra, where he found a hearty welcome beneath the hospitable roof of the Hon. James Thomason, Lieutenant-Governor of the Northwest Provinces, an old family friend and connection, who, from that time to his death, treated him with as much affection, and took as deep an interest in his career, as if he had been his own son.

He was appointed to do duty with the 2d Grenadiers, then forming a part of the Governor-General's escort, and, accordingly, left Agra on November 2d. In the following letter he describes his first impressions of camp life in an Indian army.

After mentioning a delay caused by an attack of fever and dysentery, on his way to the camp, he proceeds:-

I was able, however, to join the Grenadiers at four o'clock on the morning of the 7th, and share their dusty march of ten miles to the village near which the Governor-General's camp was pitched. Since that day we have been denizens of a canvas city of a really astonishing extent, seeing that it is the creation of a few hours, and shifts with its enormous population, some ten or fifteen miles a day. I wonder more every day at the ease and magnitude of the arrangements, and the varied and interesting pictures continually before our eyes. Soon after four A. M., a bugle sounds the reveille, and the whole mass is astir at once. The smoke of the evening fires has by this time blown away, and everything stands out clear and defined in the bright moonlight. The Sepoys, too, bring the straw from their tents, and make fires to warm their black faces on all sides, and the groups of swarthy redcoats stooping over the blaze, with a white background of canvas, and the dark clear sky behind all, produce a most picturesque effect as one turns out into the cold. Then the multitudes of camels, horses, and elephants, in all imaginable groups and positions,-the groans and cries of the former as they stoop and kneel for their burdens, the neighing of hundreds of horses mingling with the shouts of the innumerable servants and their masters' calls, the bleating of sheep and goats, and louder than all, the shrill screams of the Hindoo women, almost bewilder one's senses as one treads one's way through the canvas streets and squares to the place where the regiment assembles outside the camp.

A second bugle sounds "the assembly." There is a blaze of torches from the Governor's tents; his palanquin carriage, drawn by four mules, and escorted by jingling troopers, trots to the front. The artillery thunder forth the morning gun, as a signal that the great man is gone,-the guns rattle by,-the cavalry push on after them,-and then at length our band strikes up. "Forward" is the word, and the red (and black) column moves along, by this time as completely obscured by the dense clouds of dust as though they were in London during a November fog. We are not expected to remain with our men, but mount at once, and ride in a cluster before the band, or ride on a quarter of a mile or so, in twos and threes, complaining of the laziness of the great man's people, and of the dust and cold, as if we were the most ill-used of her Majesty's subjects. As soon as we're off the ground, and the road pretty clear, I dismount, and walk the first eight miles or so, this being the time to recover one's powers of locomotion. The cold is really very great, especially in the hour before sunrise,-generally about one and a half or two hours after we start. It soon gets warm enough to make one glad to ride again, and by the time the march is over, and the white city is in sight, the heat is very great, though now diminishing daily. It is a sudden change of temperature, truly,-from near freezing at starting, to 90° or 100° at arriving; and it is this, I think, which makes us feel the heat so much in this climate. In the daytime we get on very well; the heat seldom exceeding 86°, and often not more than 84° and 82° in tents. It sounds hot, but a house or tent at 84° is tolerably endurable, especially if there is a breeze. My tent is twelve feet square inside, and contains a low pallet bed, a table, chair, two camel trunks, and brass basin for washing. I will get a sketch of the camp to send you.

Nov. 18th.-This nomad life is agreeable in many respects, and very healthy, and one sees a great deal of the country, but it destroys time rather, as the march is not over, generally, till half-past nine or ten, and then breakfast, a most eagerly desired composition, and dressing afterwards, do not leave much of the day before the cool evening comes for exercise, or sight-seeing and dining, and by nine most of us are in bed, or near it.

Dec. 2.-Umbala.-We had a short march of six miles into Umbala this morning, and I got leave from our colonel to ride on and see the troops assemble to greet the Governor-General. I never saw so splendid a sight: 12,000 of the finest troops were drawn up in one line, and as I rode slowly along the whole front, I had an excellent opportunity of examining the varied materials of an Indian army. First were the English Horse Artillery; then the dashing dragoons of the 3d Queen's, most splendidly mounted and appointed; then came the stern, determined-looking British footmen, side by side with their tall and swarthy brethren from the Ganges and Jumna,-the Hindoo, the Mussulman, and the white man, all obeying the same word, and acknowledging the same common tie; next to these a large brigade of guns, with a mixture of all colors and creeds; then more regiments of foot, the whole closed up by the regiments of native cavalry: the quiet-looking and English-dressed Hindoo troopers strangely contrasted with the wild Irregulars in all the fanciful ununiformity of their native costume; yet these last are the men I fancy for service. Altogether, it was a most interesting sight, either to the historian or soldier, especially as one remembered that these were no men of parade, but assembled here to be poured across the Sutlej at a word.

The "pomp and circumstance" of war were soon to be exchanged for its stern realities, as will be seen in the following letter to his father, dated Christmas Day, 1845:-

Camp, Sultanpoor.

I take the first day of rest we have had, to write a few hurried lines to relieve you from any anxiety you may have felt at not hearing from me by the last mails, or from newspaper accounts, which will, I fear, reach you before this letter can. I am most thankful to be able to sit down once more to write to you all but unharmed. Since I wrote, I have been in four general engagements of the most formidable kind ever known in India. For the first time we had to contend with a brave and unconquered people, disciplined, and led on like our own troops by European skill; and the result, though successful to our arms, has been fearful indeed as to carnage. You will see accounts in the papers giving details more accurate than I can possibly furnish, both of our wonderfully rapid and fatiguing marches, and of the obstinate and bloody resistance we met with. On the 10th of this month, on our usual quiet march to Sirhind with the Governor-General's camp, we were surprised by being joined by an additional regiment, and by an order for all non-soldiers to return to Umbala. From that day we have had the fatigues and exertions of actual warfare in their broadest forms,-marching day and night unprecedented distances, scarcity of sleep and food, and all the varieties of cold and heat. I enjoyed all, and entered into it with great zest, till we came to actual blows, or rather, I am (now) half ashamed to say, till the blows were over, and I saw the horrible scenes which ensue on war. I have had quite enough of such sights now, and hope it may not be my lot to be exposed to them again. Our loss has been most severe, especially in officers. Our Sepoys could not be got to face the tremendous fire of the Sikh artillery, and, as usual, the more they quailed, the more the English officers exposed themselves in vain efforts to bring them on. The greatest destruction was, however, among the Governor-General's staff,-only two (his own son and Colonel Benson) escaped death or severe wounds. They seemed marked for destruction, and certainly met it most gallantly. On the 15th we joined the Commander-in-Chief, with his troops from Umbala, were put off escort duty, and joined General Gilbert's division. On the 17th we had a march of thirty miles, (in the daytime, too,) with scanty food; on the 18th, after a fasting march of twenty-five miles, we were summoned, at half-past four in the afternoon, to battle, which lasted till long after dark. Almost the first shot which greeted our regiment killed the man standing by my side, and instantly afterwards I was staggered by a ball from a frightened Sepoy behind me grazing my cheek and blackening my face with the powder,-so close was it to my head! We were within twenty, and at times ten, yards of three guns blazing grape into us, and worse than all, the bushes with which the whole ground was covered were filled with marksmen who, unseen by us, could pick us off at pleasure. No efforts could bring the Sepoys forward, or half the loss might have been spared, had they rushed on with the bayonet. We had three officers wounded out of our small party, and lost many of the men. We were bivouacked on the cold ground that night, and remained under arms the whole of the following day. Just as we were going into action, I stumbled upon poor Carey, whom you may remember to have heard of at Price's, at Rugby. On going over the field on the 30th, I found the body actually cut to pieces by the keen swords of the Sikhs, and but for his clothes could not have recognized him. I had him carried into camp for burial, poor fellow, extremely shocked at the sudden termination of our renewed acquaintance. On Sunday, the 21st, we marched before daybreak in force to attack the enemy, who had intrenched themselves behind their formidable artillery. The action began in the afternoon, lasted the whole night, and was renewed with daybreak. They returned again to the charge as often as we gained any advantage, and it was evening before they were finally disposed of by a charge of our dragoons, and our ammunition was exhausted!-so near are we in our most triumphant successes to a destruction as complete! The results are, I suppose, in a political point of view, immense indeed. We took from them nearly one hundred large guns, and routed their vast army, prepared, had they succeeded in beating us, to overrun Hindostan; and it must be owned they had nearly succeeded! It will scarcely be believed, but they had actually purchased and prepared supplies as far into the interior of our country as Delhi, and unknown to our authorities; and the whole of Northern India was, as usual, ready to rise upon us at an hour's notice. On the evening of the 21st, as we rushed towards the guns, in the most dense dust and smoke, and under an unprecedented fire of grape, our Sepoys again gave way and broke. It was a fearful crisis, but the bravery of the English regiments saved us. The Colonel (Hamilton), the greater part of my brother officers, and myself, were left with the colors and about thirty men immediately in front of the batteries! Our escape was most providential, and is, I trust, thankfully acknowledged by us. A ball (from a shell, I fancy) struck my leg below the knee, but happily spared the bone, and only inflicted a flesh wound. I was also knocked down twice,-once by a shell bursting so close to me as to kill the men behind me, and once by the explosion of a magazine or mine. I am most thankful indeed for my escape from death or maiming. The wound in my leg is nothing, as you may judge when I tell you that I was on foot or horseback the whole of the two following days. Last night we moved on here about five miles from the scene of action, and got some food, and into our beds, after four days and nights on the ground, alternately tried with heat and cold (now most severe at night), and nothing but an occasional mouthful of black native bread. I think, during the four days, all I had to eat would not compose half a home breakfast-loaf, and for a day and night we had not even water; when we did get water, after driving the enemy from their camp, it was found to have been spoiled with gunpowder! It was like eating Leamington water, but our thirst was too great to stick at trifles.

Dec. 26th.-We are resting here comfortably again in our tents, and had a turkey for our Christmas dinner last night. The rest is most grateful. We had only nine hours in bed out of five nights, and then the next four were on the ground. So you see I have come in for the realities of a soldier's life pretty early in my career; and since I am spared, it is doubtless a great thing for me in every way. There never has been anything like it in India, and it is not often that an action anywhere has lasted thirty-six hours as ours did. It is called a succession of three engagements, but the firing never ceased for a quarter of an hour. Infantry attacking guns was the order of the day, and the loss occasioned by such a desperate resort was fearful. How different your Christmas week will have been from mine! This time last year I was quietly staying at Bisham, and now sleeping on the banks of the Sutlej, with a sea of tents around me for miles and miles! The last few days seem a year, and I can scarcely believe that I have only been four months in India, and only two with my regiment.

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To the Hon. James Thomason, Lieutenant-Governor of Northwest Provinces.

Camp, Bootawallah, January 22d, 1846.

There is very much in the state of things in this army both discouraging and deeply disappointing to one who like myself comes into the service with a strong predilection for the profession, and a wish to enter into its duties thoroughly and earnestly. I do not like to enter into particulars, for I hold it very unmilitary, especially in so young a soldier, to attempt to criticize the acts and motives of one's superior, but I may in private again express my extreme disappointment at the state in which the Sepoys are at present, and as far as I can judge from what is said in conversation, there are but few officers in the army who do not deplore it. In discipline and subordination they seem to be lamentably deficient, especially towards the native commissioned and non-commissioned officers. On the march, I have found these last give me more trouble than the men even. My brother officers say that I see an unfavorable specimen in the 2d, as regards discipline, owing to their frequent service of late, and the number of recruits; but I fear the evil is very wide-spread. It may no doubt be traced mainly to the want of European officers. This, however, is an evil not likely to be removed on any large scale. Meantime, unless some vigorous and radical improvements take place, I think our position will be very uncertain and even alarming in the event of extended hostilities. You must really forgive my speaking so plainly, and writing my own opinions so freely. You encouraged me to do so when I was at Agra, if you remember, and I value the privilege too highly as connected with the greater one of receiving advice and counsel from you, not to exercise it, even at the risk of your thinking me presumptuous and hasty in my opinions. I imagine (in my own defence be it said) that three months of marching and of service give you more insight into the real efficiency or evils of an army, than a much longer time spent in cantonments. It is, of course, a deeply interesting subject to me, and one of deep and anxious reflection. I think the period of "doing duty," which I shall have passed ere joining my future regiment, of the greatest consequence and benefit, as enabling me to form a judgment, to the best of my abilities, of the course to be steered in the difficult voyage. It seems to me that the great problem to be solved is how "to do your own business," at the same time that "you study to be quiet" i.e., how unostentatiously to do your appointed duty thoroughly, without being deterred by the fear of being thought over-zealous or ostentatious.

At a later period, when it was proposed to erect a monument in Lichfield Cathedral to the 80th Queen's, he wrote with reference to their conduct in this action:-

It is, you know, a Staffordshire regiment, having been raised originally by the Marquis of Anglesey, and has still a great number of Staffordshire men in its ranks. It is a splendid corps, well-behaved in cantonments, and first-rate in action. I lay between them and my present regiment (1st E. B. Fusileers) on the night of the 21st of December, at Ferozeshah, when Lord Hardinge called out "80th! that gun must be silenced." They jumped up, formed into line, and advanced through the black darkness silently and firmly; gradually we lost the sound of their tread, and anxiously listened for the slightest intimation of their progress,-all was still for five minutes, while they gradually gained the front of the battery whose fire had caused us so much loss. Suddenly we heard a dropping fire,-a blaze of the Sikh cannon followed, then a thrilling cheer from the 80th, accompanied by a rattling and murderous volley as they sprang upon the battery and spiked the monster gun. In a few more minutes they moved back quietly, and lay down as before in the cold sand: but they had left forty-five of their number and two captains to mark the scene of their exploit by their graves.

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Camp, Army of the Sutlej, Feb. 12th, 1846.

The fortune of war has again interfered between me and my good intentions of answering all my correspondence by this mail. We have been knocked about for some days so incessantly that there has been no chance of writing anything; and even this scrawl, I fear, will hardly reach you. You will hear publicly of our great victory of the 10th,[2] and of the total and final rout of the Sikh force. But first, I must tell you that the 2d Grenadiers were sent back about a week ago to the villages and posts in our rear, to keep open the communication. Not liking the notion of returning to the rear while an enemy was in front, I applied immediately to do duty with another regiment; my petition was granted; and I joined the 16th Grenadiers on the evening of the 9th inst. About three in the morning we advanced towards the Sikh intrenchments along the river's bank. Our guns and ammunition had all come up a day or two before, and during the night were placed in position to shell their camp. At daybreak, seventeen heavy mortars and howitzers, rockets, and heavy guns commenced a magnificent fire on their position; at half-past eight the infantry advanced,-Sir R. Dick's division on the right, and ours (Gilbert's) in front,-covered by our fire from the batteries. On we went as usual in the teeth of a dreadful fire of guns and musketry, and after a desperate struggle we got within their triple and quadruple intrenchments; and then their day of reckoning came indeed. Driven from trench to trench, and surrounded on all sides, they retired, fighting most bravely, to the river, into which they were driven pell-mell, a tremendous fire of musketry pouring on them from our bank, and the Horse Artillery finishing their destruction with grape. The river is literally choked with corpses, and their camp full of dead and dying. An intercepted letter of theirs shows that they have lost 20,000 in killed, wounded, and missing; all their guns remaining in our hands. I had the pleasure myself of spiking two guns which were turned on us. Once more I have escaped, I am thankful to say, unhurt, except that a bullet took a fancy to my little finger and cut the skin off the top of it,-a mere pin scratch, though it spoiled a buckskin glove. I am perfectly well; we cross in a day or two, but I fancy have done with fighting.

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To his Sister.

Lahore, Feb. 27th, 1846.

In honor of your birthday, I suppose, we crossed the Sutlej on the 17th, and are now encamped close to old Runjeet Singh's capital, without a shot having been fired on this side the river! The war is over: sixty days have seen the overthrow of the Sikh army, which, when that period commenced, marched from the spot on which the victors are now encamped, with no fewer than 100,000 fighting men, now

A broken and a routed host,

Their standards gone, their leaders lost.

So ends the tale of the mightiest army, and the best organized, which India has seen.

I hope you will have got a scrap I wrote after the fight at Sobraon in hopes it would reach you before the newspapers, as I have no doubt you were all anxious enough on my account, and indeed you well might be, for I can hardly imagine (humanly speaking) how it was possible to go through that storm of bullets and shot unhurt. I have indeed much to be thankful for, and I hope I shall not forget the lesson. A campaign is a wonderful dispeller of false notions and young imaginations, and seems too stern a hint to be soon forgotten.

About this time Mr. Thomason says, in a letter to my father:-

"I hear of William constantly from friends in camp, and am glad to find that he is a great favorite in his regiment. I had some little fear that his great superiority in age and attainments to those of his own standing in the army might make him the object of envy and disparagement. I felt that he had no easy task before him, and that it would be difficult to conduct himself with discretion and becoming humility in such a position. He was quite aware of the difficulty when we talked the matter over at Agra, and I am much pleased to see the success which has attended his prudent exertions."

Lahore, March 4th, 1846.

The army breaks up now very soon, but I shall be posted before that. I am trying to get into the 1st European regiment, now stationed at Umbala, who have just been styled Fusileers for their distinguished service. It is the finest regiment in India, with white faces, too, and a very nice set of officers. I have been brigaded with them all along.

It seems an age since the campaign opened. One day of fighting such as we have had fastens itself on the memory more than a year of peaceful life. We must really have a natural taste for fighting highly developed, for I catch myself wishing and "asking for more," and grumbling at the speedy settlement of things, and the prospect of cantonments instead of field service. Is it not marvellous, as if one had not had a surfeit of killing? But the truth is, that is not the motive, but a sort of undefined ambition.... I remember bursting into tears in sheer rage in the midst of the fight at Sobraon at seeing our soldiers lying killed and wounded. Don't let any of my friends forget me yet. I have found a new one, I think, in Major Lawrence,[3] the new President at this Court, thanks to the unwearying kindness of Mr. Thomason.

In a letter of the same date to Hon. J. Thomason, the following sentence occurs:-

I must thank you very much for making me known to Major Lawrence, from whom I have received every sort of attention and kindness. I have been very much struck with his superiority, and freedom from diplomatic solemnity and mystery, which is rather affected by the politicals and officials.

* * *

Camp, Nuggur Ghat, on the Sutlej,

March 27th, 1846.

The last returning regiment of the army of the Sutlej crossed that river yesterday morning, and by to-morrow every man will have left its banks, on their way to their stations. It was a most interesting and picturesque sight to see the army filing across the splendid bridge of boats constructed by our engineers at this place. So many of the native corps have been required for the new province and for the Lahore garrison, that we had hardly any but Europeans homeward-bound, which gave an additional and home interest to the passage of the river. Dusty, travel-stained, and tired, but with that cool, firm air of determination which is the most marked characteristic of English soldiers, regiment after regiment passed on, cavalry, artillery, and infantry in succession, their bands playing quicksteps and national tunes, as each stepped upon the bridge. To you the sight would have been only interesting; but to those of us who had seen the same corps three months ago, their reduced numbers and fearfully thinned ranks told a sadder tale. Regiments cut down to a third, individual companies to a fourth or fifth of their former strength, gave a silent but eloquent reply to the boastful strains of martial music, and to the stirring influence of the pageant. As each regiment moved up on this side the river, our fine old chief addressed a few words of congratulation and praise to each; they pushed on to their tents, and a genuine English cheer, caught up and repeated from corps to corps, and a thundering salute from the artillery, proclaimed the final dispersion, and bid an appropriate farewell to the army of the Sutlej.

Thus ends my first campaign! To-morrow I march with the 26th Native Infantry to Umbala, where I hope to be transferred to the 1st Europeans. I was posted to the 26th a few days ago, but have not joined yet, as I applied at once for an exchange. Marching and living in tents is becoming unpleasantly hot now, and in another fortnight will be very bad. Yesterday we had a regular storm of wind and dust, filling everything with sand, and darkening the air most effectually; one's mouth, eyes, ears, and pockets get filled with dust; you sit down to breakfast, and your plate is ready loaded with sand, your coffee is excellently thickened, and your milk would pass for clotted cream,-but for the color. Then you get a sheet of paper, and vainly imagine you're writing, but the sand conceals the last word you write ere the ink can dry, and your pens split of themselves with the dryness of the air. In truth, it is next to impossible to do anything while the storm lasts, for one's eyes smart and cry with the plenitude of grit; and if you talk, you are set coughing with eating small stones! Yet all this is far better than the damp-exhaling heat of Bengal. Here the ground and air are as dry by night as by day, and no exhalation poisons the freshness of any wind that may be stirring.

* * *

Umbala, April 13th, 1846.

Here I am once more. I am writing in a comfortable house, and actually slept in one last night,-the first time I have eaten or slept under a roof since the 3d of November; and on the 10th I saw a lady again!

I find General Napier has written to his brother about me. Scindh has been given over to the Bombay army, so that Sir Charles can't do anything for me, but still the kindness is all the same. Unfortunately, the note reached me three days after Sir Charles left the army to return to Scindh, or I might have had the pleasure of seeing him and speaking to him.

* * *

Camp, Moradabad, Rohilcund, April 29th, 1846.

It is time indeed to be getting under cover, for we have been in the thick of the "hot winds." This sounds a very mild word, but you should only just try it! Do you remember ever holding your face over a stove when it was full of fire? and the rush of hot air which choked you? Well, something of that sort, of vast volume and momentum, blowing what they call at sea "half a gale of wind," comes quietly up, at first behind a wall of dust, and then with a roar bursts upon you, scorching you, and shrivelling you up as if you were "a rose that was plucked." It feels as if an invisible, colorless flame was playing over your face and limbs, scorching without burning you, and making your skin and hair crackle and stiffen until you are covered with "crackling" like a hot roast pig. This goes on day after day from about eight or nine o'clock in the morning till sunset; and, accompanied with the full power of the blazing sun of India, produces an amount of heat and dryness almost inconceivable. The only resource is to get behind a tatta (or wet grass mat) hung up at one of the doors of the tent, and to lie on the ground with as little motion as possible, and endeavor to sleep or read it out. Nunc veterum libris, nunc somno et inertibus horis,-I cannot go on, for the "sweet forgetfulness" of the past is too much to expect! To-day we have a new nuisance in the shape of a plague of wood-lice; our camp is pitched in an old grove of mango-trees, and is literally swarming with huge pale lice, in numbers numberless. You cannot make a step without slaying them, and they have already (noon) covered the whole sides of the tents, chairs, beds, tables, and everything. But one is really getting used to everything, and I hardly expect to be proud again. Our rest has been terribly destroyed by this last month's marching, the usual hour for the reveille being two a. m., and this morning a quarter to one!! and no power of quizzing can move our worthy major to let us take it easily, though I don't scruple to tell him that he has sold his shadow or his soul to the evil powers, and forfeited the power of sleep, he is such a restless animal! We breakfast at seven, or even a quarter past six, constantly, and dine at seven p. m.; so one has a fair opportunity of practising abstinence, as I rigidly abstain from eating in the mean time, or drinking. After all, it is very healthy weather, and I imagine there is less harm done to the health in the hot winds than even in the cold weather. I have never been so well in India.

* * *

Nynee Tal, May 14th, 1846.

I am writing from the last new Hill Station, discovered about three years ago by an adventurous traveller, and now containing forty houses and a bazaar. It is a "tal," or lake, of about a mile in length, lying in a basin of the mountains, about 6,200 feet above the sea; the hills rising about 1,800 feet on all sides of it, and beautifully wooded from their very summits down to the water's brink. How I got here remains to be told. You will remember that I had applied, some time ago, to be transferred to the 1st Bengal European Fusileers. Well, after keeping me in suspense some seven weeks, and sending me the whole way from Lahore to Bareilly in April and May, I received notice that my application was granted, and a civil request to go back again. I had had enough of marching in the plains, and travelling dak would have been madness for me, so I determined on going up into the hills, and making my way across the mountain ranges to Subathoo, where my regiment is stationed. A good-natured civilian at Bareilly offered to take me with him to this place, from whence I could make a good start. We started on the morning of the 11th, and drove to Rampoor, stayed there till midnight, and then set off for the hills. By daylight we got to the edge of the "Terai," the far-famed hotbed of fever and tigers, swamps and timber, along the whole ridge of the Himalayas, stretching along the plains at their feet in a belt of about twenty miles from the Indus to the Burhampooter. Here we found horses awaiting us, and, mounting at once, started for a ride of twenty-seven miles before breakfast. The first part of the "Terai" is merely a genuine Irish bog, and the oily, watery ditches and starved-looking cows shout out "Fever," on all sides of you. The last ten miles, to the foot of the hills, is through a dense mass of ragged trees in all stages of growth and decay, "horrida, inculta, hirsuta,"-moist, unpleasant, and ugly. At length we reached the first low woody ranges of the hills, and following the dry bed of a mountain stream, by noon we doubled the last ridge, and descended upon our lake. None of these hills are to be compared in beauty with Scotland and Wales, though very fine, and inexpressibly refreshing, almost affecting, after the dead flat we have lived in so long. As soon as my servants arrive, I start hence by myself, through an unfrequented sea of vast mountains, by way of Landour, for Mussoorie, to Simla and Subathoo. It is about 340 miles, and will take me thirty-two or thirty-four days to accomplish. I mean to take no pony, but trust that my old powers of walking and endurance will revive in the mountain air.

Subathoo, June 16th, 1846.

When I wrote to you last from Sireenuggur, I hoped to have been able to reach this place by way of the hills and Simla; but, before I got to Mussoorie, the early setting in of the rains made it so difficult and unpleasant (and likely to be dangerous) to get on, that, after spending two days there, I rode down to Deyra Dhoon, and came dak through Saharunpoor and Umbala to Kalka, at the foot of these hills, where I found my beast awaiting my arrival, and mounted the seventeen miles of hill at once. Here I am, at last, with my own regiment, and with the prospect of being quiet for four months. I am eighth Second Lieutenant; a distinguished position (is it not?) at the age of five-and-twenty. The campaign, I am sorry to say, did me no good in the way of promotion, owing to my not having been "posted" permanently before it commenced.

* * *

Subathoo, July 3d, 1846.

I hope you will congratulate me on getting into my present splendid corps, the 1st Fusileers, now, alas, a mere shadow of what it was six months ago. We could only muster 256 men under arms when we were inspected by Sir R. Gilbert on the 1st; but, then, there was a most picturesque body of convalescents present with their empty sleeves, pale faces, and crutches, but looking proudly conscious of their good conduct, and ready "to do it again." We are under much stricter discipline in this corps, both officers and men, and obliged to be orderly and submissive. No bad thing for us either. I hold there is more real liberty in being under a decent restraint than in absolute freedom from any check. I have been much more reconciled to India since I joined this regiment. It is pleasant to have white faces about one, and hear one's own tongue spoken; and then, besides, there is a home-loving feeling in this corps which I have never met with in India. I believe we would each and all migrate to England, if we had our own way.

* * *

To his Father.

Simla, Sept. 2d, 1846.

I came here on the 31st for a week, to stay with Major Lawrence (now a Colonel and C. B.), who dined and slept with me at Subathoo last week, and pressed me to come here. I am nothing loth, as I like him amazingly, and value his friendship very much, and pick up a great deal of information as to India, and Indians black and white. He has kindly offered to take me with him for a tour through Jullunder Doab, and up to Jummoo, Rajah Gholab Singh's camp and court. He says he can give or get me leave to accompany him. My colonel says he won't give any one leave after the 14th of this month. Which is right remains to be seen, but I think you may calculate that the "Agent to the Governor-General" will prevail, and I shall see Jummoo.

I am now writing in his room with the incessant entrances and exits of natives,-rajahs, princes, vakeels, &c. &c., and officers civil and military; and the buzz of business and confusion of tongues, black and white, learned and unlearned, on all subjects, political, religious (at this minute they are disputing what "the Church" means), and military, so that I am tolerably puzzled. I have been taking a tremendously long walk this morning about the hills and valleys, with Mr. and Mrs. Currie, and enjoying the beauties of Simla.

* * *

Simla, Sept. 14th, 1846.

My original week at Simla has grown into a month, thanks to Colonel Lawrence's pressing, and Colonel Orchard's (my colonel's) kindness. I should hardly like staying so long with Colonel Lawrence, (especially as I live day and night in the same room with him and his papers, regularly camp fashion,) but that he wishes it, and I manage to give him a slight helping hand by making précis of his letters, and copying confidential papers. He is amazingly kind, and tells me all that is going on, initiating me into the mysteries of "political" business, and thus giving me more knowledge of things and persons Indian than I should learn in a year of ordinary life, aye! or in three years either. This is a great advantage to my ultimate prospects, of course independently of the power he possesses of giving me a lift in the world when I am of sufficient standing to hold any appointment.

He makes me work at Hindostanee, and has given me a lesson or two in the use of the theodolite, and other surveying instruments, to the end that I may get employed in the Surveying Department, after two years of which he says "I shall be fit for a Political."

I have been very fortunate in many ways, more so than I had any right to expect. If I were only nearer to you all, and had any old friends about me, I should have nothing to regret or wish for. It is there that the shoe especially pinches. All minor annoyances are easily got rid of, but one does find a wonderful lack of one's old friends and old associations. Society is very different here from ours at home, and different as it is I have seen very little of it. Nor am I, with my previous habits, age, and education, the person to feel this an indifferent matter; but on the contrary, all the drawbacks of Indian existence come with redoubled force from the greatness of the contrast. Still I do not let these things annoy me, or weigh down my spirits, but strive, by keeping up English habits, tastes, and feelings, and looking forward to a run home, (thus having a motive always in view,) to make the best of everything as it occurs, and to act upon the principle, that mere outward circumstances don't make a man's happiness. If I have one feeling stronger than another, it is contempt for a "regular Indian," a man who thinks it fine to adopt a totally different set of habits and morals and fashions, until, in forgetting that he is an Englishman, he usually forgets also that he is a Christian and a gentleman. Such characters are happily rare now, but there are many fragments of it on a small scale, and always must be so, so long as the men who are to support the name and power of England in Asia are sent out here at an age when neither by education nor reflection can they have learnt all or even a fraction of what those words imply. It would be a happy thing for India and for themselves if all came out here at a more advanced age than now, but one alone breaking through the custom in that respect made and provided, must not expect to escape the usual fate, or at least the usual annoyances, of innovators.

I have enjoyed my visit here very much, and though I have not sought them, have made one or two very pleasant acquaintances, or improved them. I have been very little out, and passed my time almost entirely with Colonel Lawrence and his family, i.e., his brother and the two sisters-in-law. Things are not looking well on the frontier. Cashmere and the hill country wont submit to Gholab Singh, to whom we gave them over, and have been thrashing his troops and killing his ministers; and I expect October will see an army assembled to frighten them into submission, or interfere with a strong arm, as the case may be.

We seem bound to see him established on the throne we carved out for him, and it is our only chance of keeping peace and order; though at the best he is such a villain, and so detested, that I imagine it will be but a sorry state of quietness:-

The torrent's smoothness ere it dash below.

In a letter to his wife, written during this visit, Sir H. Lawrence says:-

Sept. 1st.-"I brought up with me from Subathoo a fine young fellow, by name Hodson, son of the Archdeacon of Stafford. He is now (10 p. m.) sleeping in my little office-room, where I am writing. Thomason recommended him to me, and I have seldom met so promising a young fellow. He left the native branch of the army at the expense of some steps, because he did not like the conduct of the Sepoys. He was for four years with Dr. Arnold, and two in the sixth form under his eye. He speaks most affectionately of him. I will try to get leave for him for a month to accompany me to Lahore and Jummoo in October.... I get a good deal of help from Hodson, who works willingly and sensibly. Perhaps you may meet the family at Lichfield."

Lahore, October 14th, 1846.

As I hoped when I wrote last, I am again writing from the capital of the "Singhs," but, alas for the "lions," their tails are very much down in the world since this time last year, when the "fierce and formidable army" assembled to invade our tempting provinces. Nearly half the garrison has marched across the Ravee, and not more than 5,000 or 6,000 British troops now hold the far-famed capital of Runjeet Singh.

You must not be alarmed by the accounts you will see in the papers by this mail of the advance of two forces from Lahore and Jullunder towards Jummoo. They are not to take any active part in the operations of Gholab Singh for the recovery of Cashmere from the rebellious Sheikh Imaumoodeen; our troops are to hold the Maharaja's country for him while he advances with his whole disposable force, augmented by a Sikh auxiliary army.

It is probable that the Sheikh will give in without fighting as soon as he hears the preparations made by both powers for his coercion. Indeed, a letter has arrived from Cashmere to say he has given in; but he is a wily fellow, and I mightily distrust him. I only know if I was in Cashmere with my army at my back, I would not give in as long as a man was left to pull a trigger! The Agent (Colonel Lawrence) and I start to-morrow evening, going seventy miles the first day, and hope to reach Bhimbur, at the foot of the hills, on the 17th, thence to go up and join the Maharaja, and accompany his army to Cashmere. If he fights we shall see the fun; if not, we are to accompany him and keep him from excesses and injustice in the valley, and return here, I fancy, in about a month or six weeks. Of course, in event of the two armies coming to blows, it will probably be some time longer ere we return. I am delighted at the thoughts of seeing Cashmere, and am gaining great advantage from being with these "politicals" in the way of learning the languages, and method of governing the natives. I have been hard at work day and night for some time now, writing for Colonel Lawrence. I left Subathoo on the 1st, and after a ride of some twenty miles through the hills, joined Colonel Lawrence and Mr. Christian, and after a shake-down in a little mud bungalow, and an amusing dinner, (served up in two brass basins, standing on a bed,) and a breakfast to match, we rode down to Roopur, on the Sutlej. Here we took boat, and floated down the river to Ferozepoor, and came across to Lahore during the night in a capital barouche belonging to the Ranee, with relays of horses and an escort of cavalry.

* * *

Thanna, at the foot of the pass into Cashmere,

Oct. 26th, 1846.

Our tent is pitched on the top of a little spur from the mountain side, and beneath us lie, in quaint picturesque confusion, scattered over the valley and the little staircase-like rice-fields, the mingled hosts of Lahore and Jummoo. The spare stalwart Sikh, with his grizzled beard and blue turban of the scantest dimensions, side by side with the huge-limbed Affghan, with voluminous headgear and many-colored garments. The proud Brahmin in the same ranks with the fierce "Children of the Faithful;" the little active Hillman; the diminutive, sturdy, platter-faced Ghoorka, and the slight-made Hindostanee, collected in the same tents, and all alike clothed in a caricature of the British uniform. I have been very much interested and amused by this march with a native army, so different from our own proceedings and our own military power,-albeit the British army will soon be as varied in its composition.

I have seen a great deal of the native Sirdars or chiefs, especially Tej Singh who commanded the Sikh forces in the war, and of the Maharaja. The former a small, spare little man, marked with the smallpox, and with a thin and scanty beard, but sharp and intelligent, and by his own account a hero. The Maharaja is a fine, tall, portly man, with a splendid expressive face, and most gentlemanly, pleasing manner, and fine-toned voice,-altogether the most pleasing Asiatic I have seen,-to all appearance the gentlest of the gentle, and the most sincere and truthful character in the world; and in his habits he is certainly exemplary; but he is the cleverest hypocrite in the world; as sharp and acute as possible, devoured by avarice and ambition, and when roused, horribly cruel. This latter accusation he rebuts, by alleging the necessity of the case and the ferocity of those he has to deal with. To us, however, his fondness for flaying men alive, cutting off their noses and ears and hands, &c., savors rather of the inexcusable. He was accused of having flayed 12,000 men, which he indignantly asserted was a monstrous calumny, as he only skinned three; afterwards he confessed to three hundred! Yet he is not a bit worse, and in many ways infinitely better, than most native princes. Lawrence doubts whether one could be found with fewer faults, if placed in similar circumstances. Avitabile, to the disgrace of his European blood, was far more cruel. The stories current in the Punjaub of his abominations are horrible. The costumes of these chiefs would delight you: they never make a mistake in colors, and the effect is always good, however bright they may be. This force is (as I told you) moving up to turn the Sheikh Imaumoodeen, the rebellious vassal of the Lahore Government, out of Cashmere, in virtue of the treaty ceding it to Gholab Singh. Up to yesterday, I expected it would be a fight, but yesterday the Sheikh sent letters to say he was sorry and repentful, and was on his way to tender his submission. So we wait here to receive him. This will not, however, prevent my visit to the valley, as Colonel Lawrence intends to accompany the Maharaja to pacify and take possession.

It is very cold here, though not much above 5,000 feet above the sea.

* * *

To his Father.

Shupyen, in Cashmere, Nov. 6th, 1846.

I write a hurried line to announce my safe arrival in the valley. On the 1st instant we got hold of the rebellious Sheikh, and sent him down to the plains; and yesterday, Colonel Lawrence, Captain Browne, and myself, rode into the valley, amid the acclamations of an admiring population-of beggars! I am writing at sunrise in a little tent, and in spite of two coats and waistcoats, I am nearly "friz." We crossed the Pir Punjal Pass on the 4th, 12,000 feet above the sea, with snow all around us, and slept on this side in an old serai; I say slept, because we went to bed; but sleeping was out of the question, from the cold and uproar of all our followers and their horses, crowded into a court-yard thirty feet square, horses and men quarrelling and yelling all night long. The view from the top of the Pass was very fine, but the wind far too high to take more than a peep of it without losing one's eyes; but the road from Thanna to the summit was most lovely the whole way, winding up a glen wooded magnificently, and the rocks towering above us on all sides; the trees were all in their varied autumn dress, surmounted by forests of pine; altogether, I never saw so grand a scene. As the Sheikh's submission has cut the Gordian knot of politics here, we shall only stay a few days to see the valley, and install the Maharaja, (who is following us with his force by slow stages,) and then rush back to Lahore and Subathoo.

This is said to be the largest town but three in the valley. It is a poverty-stricken, scattered hamlet of mud houses with wooden roofs, the upper half being generally rough open lattice-work or railing, with alternate supports of unbaked bricks; low mud inclosures, and open waste spaces between, dedicated to dogs and dunghills. The whole is thickly grown over with fine apple and walnut trees, the staple fruits (with the grape) of the valley, and the food of the people. They are a poor wretched set, only good for beasts of burden,-and certainly they can carry a vast load,-their dress, both men and women, being a loose, wide-sleeved smock-frock of dirty sackcloth-looking woollen. The men wear a dirty skullcap on their shaven "nobs," and the women a crimson machine, like a flower-pot saucer inverted, from which depends a veil or cloth of the same texture as the frock; legs and feet clothed in their native dirt. The women are atrociously ugly, and screech like the witches in Macbeth,-so much so, that when the Agent asked me to give them a rupee or two, I felt it my duty to refuse, firmly but respectfully, on the ground that it would be encouraging ugliness! I fancy the climate and the soil are unrivalled, but years of poverty and oppression have reduced to a nation of beggars what ought to be a Paradise. We go hence after breakfast to Islumabad, at the eastern end of the valley; and spend a day or two in looking about us, and floating down the river to Cashmere itself, by which time our "prince" will have arrived. I am the luckiest dog unhung to have actually got into Cashmere. I fancy I am the first officer of our army who has been here, save the few who have come officially. These delightful breezes are most invigorating. I only wish you could all enjoy these travels with me. I expect to be back at Subathoo by the 1st of December.

In a letter to my father about this time, Mr. Thomason says:-

"I am very glad to observe that such an intimacy has sprung up between Colonel Lawrence and your William. He could not be under better direction.

"Colonel Lawrence has evidently taken him entirely into his confidence, which cannot but be of the greatest use to him in his future career. He will have opportunities of observation and instruction now, which very few possess after a long period of service. To be selected, too, as his confidant by a man of Colonel Lawrence's stamp, is no small feather in the cap of any young man. He stands deservedly high also in the esteem of all who know him; and if it please God to spare his life and give him health, his prospects are as good as any man's can be in this country."

Colonel Lawrence having discovered that my brother could work, was by no means disposed to let him remain without full occupation, as his next letter will show:-

Subathoo, April 1st, 1847.

I am wonderfully well and flourishing, and have lots to do. Lawrence has made me undertake the secretaryship of the new Asylum for European Children, building some ten miles hence, which will give me volumes of correspondence, and leagues, nay latitudes of riding. Nevertheless, it is well, and it is a good work. The responsibility will be great, as a committee of management, on an average three hundred miles apart, are rather nominal in their supervision of things.

Subathoo, April 1st, 1847.

If my locomotive instinct has been brought into play in India, as you suggest, my constructive organs are likely to have their share of exercise. I have the entire direction and arrangement of the new Hill Asylum on my hands just now. It is seven miles hence, of mountain roads, and what with going and coming, planning, instructing, and supervising, my time is pretty well occupied, to say nothing of my regiment, and private affairs. Building a house in India is a different affair from one's previous experiences. You begin from the forest and the quarry, have to get lime burnt, trees cut down, bricks made, planks sawn up, the ground got ready, and then watch the work foot by foot,-showing this "nigger" how to lay his bricks, another the proper proportions of a beam, another the construction of a door, and to the several artisans the mysteries of a screw, a nail, and a hinge. You cannot say to a man, "Make me a wall or a door," but you must with your own hands measure out his work, teach him to saw away here, to plane there, or drive such a nail, or insinuate such another suspicion of glue. And when it comes to be considered that this is altogether new work to me, and has to be excuded by cogitation on the spot, so as to give an answer to every inquirer, you may understand the amount of personal exertion and attention required for the work.

I have the sole direction and control of nearly four hundred and fifty workmen, including paying them, keeping accounts, drawing plans, and everything. I have to get earth dug for bricks, see the moulds made and watch the progress of them till the kiln is full, get wood for the kiln, and direct the lighting of the same, and finally provide a goat to sacrifice to the demon who is supposed to turn the bricks red! Then I must get bamboos and grass cut for thatching, and string made for the purpose; send about the hills for sand for mortar, and limestone to burn, see it mixed and prepared, and then show the niggers how to use it. Then the whole of the wood-work must be set out and made under one's own eye, and a lump of iron brought from the mine to be wrought (also under one's direction) into nails and screws, before a single door can be set up; and when to all this is added the difficulty of getting hands (I mean in the hills), and the bother of watching the idlest and most cunning race on earth, you may suppose my "unpaid magistracy" is no sinecure. I am not exaggerating or indeed telling half the difficulty, for fear you should think the whole a romance. You will naturally ask how I learnt all these trades. I can only say that you can't be more astonished than I am myself, and can only satisfy you by the theory that "necessity is the mother of invention." I am seldom able to sit down from sunrise to sunset, when I get a hasty dinner, and am then only too glad to sleep off the effects of the day. How I have escaped fever during the last month I cannot think, as it has been terribly hot in the sun, even in the hills, and I have lived in the blaze of it pretty constantly. Colonel Lawrence seems determined I shall have nothing to stop me, for his invariable reply to every question is, "Act on your own judgment;" "Do what you think right;" "I give you carte blanche to act in my name, and draw on my funds," and so forth.

Are you aware of the nature of the institution? It was started, in idea, by Colonel Lawrence some two or three years ago, and a sufficient sum of money for a commencement having been raised, he charged me with the erection of the necessary buildings, and the organization and setting in motion of the great machine which is to regenerate and save from moral and physical degradation, sickness, and death, the children of the British soldiers serving in India. The object is to teach them all things useful, while you give them the advantage of a healthy climate, removed from the evil influence of a barrack-room. The children are to remain in the Asylum until their parents return to England, or till old enough to join the ranks, or be otherwise provided for.

Another drag upon my hands is the care of a small European boy, who was lately found up in Cabul, and is supposed to be the son of some soldier of the destroyed army. He has been brought up as a Mussulman, and made to believe his father was such, and is a very bigot. Colonel Lawrence sent him to me from Lahore, but forgot to write about him, so I know no more of him than I have seen in the newspapers, and have no idea what to do with him, or where he is to go. He is rather a nuisance, and I shall be glad when he goes, as there is little but his odd fate to interest one in him; and I have considerable doubts as to his genuine origin. He is more like a half-caste than an "European." Our communication is brief, as he speaks but little Hindostanee, and I less Persian. The Asylum is a much more interesting occupation, as, independently of its object, there is a pleasure in covering a fine mountain with buildings of one's own designing.

A few days later he writes:-

My last few days at the Asylum were enlivened by the arrival of Mrs. George Lawrence, whose tent was pitched close to mine, on the hill-top. She is a great acquisition in a forest life, and a very nice person,-the wife of the Captain Lawrence who was one of the Cabul prisoners. She is to be superintendress until the arrival of the future man from England. I have fourteen little girls to take care of, by the same token, and listen to the grumblings of their nurses. In short, I don't know myself, and that is the long and short of it. I am going to Simla for a day or two, to see Mr. Thomason.

And again, to his brother:-

The state of things is so provokingly quiet and placid, that there seems but small chance of our being called upon for another rush across country (called a "forced march"), like the one of December, 1845; and one is obliged to take to anything that offers, to avoid the "t?dium vit?" which the want of employment engenders in this "lovely country," in those, at least, who have not learnt to exist in the philosophical medium of brandy and cheroots. Did I tell you, by-the-bye, that I abjured tobacco when I left England, and that I have never been tempted, by even a night "al fresco," to resume the delusive habit? Nor have I told you (because I despaired of your believing it) that I have declined from the paths of virtue in respect to beer also, these two years past, seldom or never even tasting that once idolized stimulant!! It has not been caused alone by a love of eccentricity, but by the very sensitive state of my inner man, (achieved in India,) which obliges me to live by rule. This is all very edifying, no doubt, to you; to me it is especially so, for I believe if I get on well in India, it will be owing, physically speaking, to my digestion.

* * *

Subathoo, June 18th, 1847.

I am getting on famously at the Asylum just now, and have succeeded in getting the children under cover before the rains. I have narrowly escaped a bad fever through overwork in the sun, but, by taking it in time, I got right again. The weather has since taken a turn, and become much cooler, besides which my principal anxiety is over for the season. I have certainly had a benefit of work, both civil and literary, for the Institution, and since Colonel Lawrence put an advertisement in the papers, desiring all anxious persons to apply to me, I have had enough on my hands. It is all very well, but interferes with my reading no little; and I am sure to get more kicks than thanks for my pains from an ungrateful and undiscerning public. However, as long as Colonel Lawrence leaves everything so completely in my hands, and trusts so implicitly to my skill and honesty, it would be a shame not to work "un-like a nigger."

It is intended that the children should remain in the Institution until they are eighteen years of age, if their fathers be alive, and until somehow or other provided for, should they be orphans. The majority of the boys will, of course, become soldiers; but my belief is, that having been brought up in the delightful climate of the Himalaya, they will, after ten or fifteen years, settle down in the various stations and slightly elevated valleys in these hills, as traders and cultivators, and form the nucleus of the first British colony in India. My object is to give them English habits from the first, which they have in most cases to learn, from being brought up by native nurses from infancy. Part of the scheme is to make the Institution support itself, and I am very shortly going to start a farm-yard. I have already got a fine large garden in full swing; and here you may see French beans, cabbages, strawberry plants, and fine potatoes (free from disease). I steadfastly refuse the slightest dash of color in admitting children. People may call this illiberal, if they please; the answer is obvious. Half-castes stand the climate of the plains too well to need a hill sanitorium, and by mixing them with English children you corrupt those whom you wish to benefit. The little boy who was lately redeemed from Cabul, and whom Colonel Lawrence consigned to my care, is the plague of my existence. He has the thoroughly lying, deceitful habits, and all the dirt, of the Affghan races, and not a single point of interest to counterbalance them.

* * *

Subathoo, August, 1847.

I have some hopes, though but faint ones, of being relieved from the necessity of a move to Cawnpore, [whither his regiment had been ordered,] by obtaining a berth under Colonel Lawrence. I know that he has asked for me, and, I believe, for an appointment which would please me more than any other he could find, as being one of the most confidential nature, and involving constant locomotion, and plenty of work both for head, nerve, and body. But I must not be sanguine, as we have already a large proportion of officers away from the regiment, and I am a young soldier, though, alas! growing grievously old in years.

The appointment alluded to was to the "Corps of Guides," then recently organized by Colonel Lawrence for service in the Punjaub. While this question, however, was still pending, there seemed a prospect of Lieut. Hodson's succeeding to the adjutancy of his regiment, and Colonel Lawrence, as will be seen from the subjoined letter, recommended his accepting it, if offered:-

"Simla, Sept. 11th.

"My dear Hodson,-I have spoken to the Governor-General about you, who at once replied, 'Let him take the adjutancy.' He wishes you well, but is puzzled by the absentee question. We are all, moreover, agreed on the usefulness to yourself of being employed for a time as adjutant to a regiment. There are always slips, but I know of no man of double or treble your standing who has so good a prospect before him. Favor and partiality do occasionally give a man a lift, but depend upon it that his is the best chance in the long run who helps himself. So far you have done this manfully, and you have reason to be proud of being selected at one time for three different appointments by three different men.[4] Don't however, be too proud. Learn your duties thoroughly. Continue to study two or three hours a day; not to pass in a hurry, but that you may do so two or three years hence with éclat. Take advantage of Becher's being at Kussowlee to learn something of surveying. All knowledge is useful; but to a soldier, or official of any sort in India, I know no branch of knowledge which so well repays the student.

"In Oriental phrase, pray consider that much is said in this hurried scrawl, and believe that I shall watch your career with warm interest.

"I am, very sincerely yours,

"H. M. Lawrence."

The expected vacancy, however, did not occur, and Colonel Lawrence accordingly renewed his application for my brother's services in the Punjaub, and, as will be seen, with success. In the beginning of October he writes:-

I have every reason to expect that before many days I shall be gazetted as attached to the Guide Corps. The immediate result of my appointment will be a speedy departure to Lahore with Colonel Lawrence, who returns there to arrange matters before going home.

And on the 16th:-

You will, I am sure, rejoice with me at my unprecedented good fortune in being appointed to a responsible and honorable post, almost before, by the rules of the service, I am entitled to take charge of a company of Sepoys. I shall even be better off than I thought; instead of merely "doing duty" with the Guide Corps, I am to be the second in command.

The next chapter will show how well Lieut. Hodson justified Colonel Lawrence's selection of him for so responsible a command, one which the course of events made far more important than could then have been foreseen. It was in this that he laid the foundations of his reputation as an "unequalled partisan leader," and acquired his experience of the Sikhs, and extraordinary influence over them.