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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:18:02 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:18:02 -0700 |
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diff --git a/1935-h/1935-h.htm b/1935-h/1935-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7668fc2 --- /dev/null +++ b/1935-h/1935-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3803 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Tremendous Adventures of Major Gahagan | Project Gutenberg</title> + +<style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.poem {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + font-size: 90%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.letter {text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.right {text-align: right; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +p.footnote {font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0%; + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +sup { vertical-align: top; font-size: 0.6em; } + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1935 ***</div> + +<h1>THE TREMENDOUS ADVENTURES OF<br/> +MAJOR GAHAGAN</h1> + +<h3>Etc. Etc.</h3> + +<h2 class="no-break">by William Makepeace Thackeray</h2> + +<hr /> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I: “TRUTH IS STRANGE, STRANGER THAN FICTION”</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II: ALLYGHUR AND LASWAREE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III: A PEEP INTO SPAIN—ACCOUNT OF THE ORIGIN AND SERVICES OF THE AHMEDNUGGAR IRREGULARS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV: THE INDIAN CAMP—THE SORTIE FROM THE FORT</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V: THE ISSUE OF MY INTERVIEW WITH MY WIFE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI: FAMINE IN THE GARRISON</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII: THE ESCAPE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII: THE CAPTIVE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX: SURPRISE OF FUTTYGHUR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">Footnotes:</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a> +CHAPTER I<br/> +“Truth is strange, Stranger than fiction.”</h2> + +<p> +I think it but right that in making my appearance before the public I should at +once acquaint them with my titles and name. My card, as I leave it at the +houses of the nobility, my friends, is as follows:— +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +MAJOR GOLIAH O’GRADY GAHAGAN, H.E.I.C.S.,<br/> + <i>Commanding Battalion of<br/> + Irregular Horse</i>,<br/> + AHMEDNUGGAR. +</p> + +<p> +Seeing, I say, this simple visiting ticket, the world will avoid any of those +awkward mistakes as to my person, which have been so frequent of late. There +has been no end to the blunders regarding this humble title of mine, and the +confusion thereby created. When I published my volume of poems, for instance, +the <i>Morning Post</i> newspaper remarked “that the Lyrics of the Heart, by +Miss Gahagan, may be ranked among the sweetest flowrets of the present spring +season.” The <i>Quarterly Review</i>, commenting upon my “Observations on the +Pons Asinorum” (4to, London, 1836), called me “Doctor Gahagan,” and so on. It +was time to put an end to these mistakes, and I have taken the above simple +remedy. +</p> + +<p> +I was urged to it by a very exalted personage. Dining in August last at the +palace of the T-l-r-es at Paris, the lovely young Duch-ss of Orl-ns (who, +though she does not speak English, understands it as well as I do), said to me +in the softest Teutonic, “Lieber Herr Major, haben sie den +Ahmednuggarischen-jager-battalion gelassen?” “Warum denn?” said I, quite +astonished at her R—l H—ss’s question. The P-cess then spoke of some trifle +from my pen, which was simply signed Goliah Gahagan. +</p> + +<p> +There was, unluckily, a dead silence as H.R.H. put this question. +</p> + +<p> +“Comment donc?” said H.M. Lo-is Ph-l-ppe, looking gravely at Count Molé; “le +cher Major a quitté l’armée! Nicolas donc sera maître de l’Inde!” H. M- and the +Pr. M-n-ster pursued their conversation in a low tone, and left me, as may be +imagined, in a dreadful state of confusion. I blushed and stuttered, and +murmured out a few incoherent words to explain—but it would not do—I could not +recover my equanimity during the course of the dinner; and while endeavouring +to help an English duke, my neighbour, to <i>poulet à l’Austerlitz</i>, fairly +sent seven mushrooms and three large greasy <i>croûtes</i> over his whiskers +and shirt-frill. Another laugh at my expense. “Ah! M. le Major,” said the Q— of +the B-lg—ns, archly, “vous n’aurez jamais votre brevet de Colonel.” Her M-y’s +joke will be better understood when I state that his Grace is the brother of a +Minister. +</p> + +<p> +I am not at liberty to violate the sanctity of private life, by mentioning the +names of the parties concerned in this little anecdote. I only wish to have it +understood that I am a gentleman, and live at least in <i>decent</i> society. +<i>Verbum sat</i>. +</p> + +<p> +But to be serious. I am obliged always to write the name of Goliah in full, to +distinguish me from my brother, Gregory Gahagan, who was also a Major (in the +King’s service), and whom I killed in a duel, as the public most likely knows. +Poor Greg! a very trivial dispute was the cause of our quarrel, which never +would have originated but for the similarity of our names. The circumstance was +this: I had been lucky enough to render the Nawaub of Lucknow some trifling +service (in the notorious affair of Choprasjee Muckjee), and his Highness sent +down a gold toothpick-case directed to Captain G. Gahagan, which I of course +thought was for me: my brother madly claimed it; we fought, and the consequence +was, that in about three minutes he received a slash in the right side (cut 6), +which effectually did his business:- he was a good swordsman enough—I was +<small>THE BEST</small> in the universe. The most ridiculous part of the affair +is, that the toothpick-case was his, after all—he had left it on the Nawaub’s +table at tiffin. I can’t conceive what madness prompted him to fight about such +a paltry bauble; he had much better have yielded it at once, when he saw I was +determined to have it. From this slight specimen of my adventures, the reader +will perceive that my life has been one of no ordinary interest; and, in fact, +I may say that I have led a more remarkable life than any man in the service—I +have been at more pitched battles, led more forlorn hopes, had more success +among the fair sex, drunk harder, read more, been a handsomer man than any +officer now serving Her Majesty. +</p> + +<p> +When I first went to India in 1802, I was a raw cornet of seventeen, with +blazing red hair, six feet four in height, athletic at all kinds of exercises, +owing money to my tailor and everybody else who would trust me, possessing an +Irish brogue, and my full pay of £120 a year. I need not say that with all +these advantages I did that which a number of clever fellows have done before +me—I fell in love, and proposed to marry immediately. +</p> + +<p> +But how to overcome the difficulty?—It is true that I loved Julia Jowler—loved +her to madness; but her father intended her for a Member of Council at least, +and not for a beggarly Irish ensign. It was, however, my fate to make the +passage to India (on board of the “Samuel Snob” East Indiaman, Captain Duffy) +with this lovely creature, and my misfortune instantaneously to fall in love +with her. We were not out of the Channel before I adored her, worshipped the +deck which she trod upon, kissed a thousand times the cuddy-chair on which she +used to sit. The same madness fell on every man in the ship. The two mates +fought about her at the Cape; the surgeon, a sober pious Scotchman, from +disappointed affection, took so dreadfully to drinking as to threaten +spontaneous combustion; and old Colonel Lilywhite, carrying his wife and seven +daughters to Bengal, swore that he would have a divorce from Mrs. L., and made +an attempt at suicide; the captain himself told me, with tears in his eyes, +that he hated his hitherto-adored Mrs. Duffy, although he had had nineteen +children by her. +</p> + +<p> +We used to call her the witch—there was magic in her beauty and in her voice. I +was spell-bound when I looked at her, and stark staring mad when she looked at +me! O lustrous black eyes!—O glossy night-black ringlets!—O lips!—O dainty +frocks of white muslin!—O tiny kid slippers!—though old and gouty, Gahagan sees +you still! I recollect, off Ascension, she looked at me in her particular way +one day at dinner, just as I happened to be blowing on a piece of scalding hot +green fat. I was stupefied at once—I thrust the entire morsel (about half a +pound) into my mouth. I made no attempt to swallow, or to masticate it, but +left it there for many minutes, burning, burning! I had no skin to my palate +for seven weeks after, and lived on rice-water during the rest of the voyage. +The anecdote is trivial, but it shows the power of Julia Jowler over me. +</p> + +<p> +The writers of marine novels have so exhausted the subject of storms, +shipwrecks, mutinies, engagements, sea-sickness, and so forth, that (although I +have experienced each of these in many varieties) I think it quite unnecessary +to recount such trifling adventures; suffice it to say, that during our five +months’ <i>trajet</i>, my mad passion for Julia daily increased; so did the +captain’s and the surgeon’s; so did Colonel Lilywhite’s; so did the doctor’s, +the mate’s—that of most part of the passengers, and a considerable number of +the crew. For myself, I swore—ensign as I was—I would win her for my wife; I +vowed that I would make her glorious with my sword—that as soon as I had made a +favourable impression on my commanding officer (which I did not doubt to +create), I would lay open to him the state of my affections, and demand his +daughter’s hand. With such sentimental outpourings did our voyage continue and +conclude. +</p> + +<p> +We landed at the Sunderbunds on a grilling hot day in December 1802, and then +for the moment Julia and I separated. She was carried off to her papa’s arms in +a palankeen, surrounded by at least forty hookahbadars; whilst the poor cornet, +attended but by two dandies and a solitary beasty (by which unnatural name +these blackamoors are called), made his way humbly to join the regiment at +headquarters. +</p> + +<p> +The —th Regiment of Bengal Cavalry, then under the command of Lieut.-Colonel +Julius Jowler, C.B., was known throughout Asia and Europe by the proud title of +the Bundelcund Invincibles—so great was its character for bravery, so +remarkable were its services in that delightful district of India. Major Sir +George Gutch was next in command, and Tom Thrupp, as kind a fellow as ever ran +a Mahratta through the body, was second Major. We were on the eve of that +remarkable war which was speedily to spread throughout the whole of India, to +call forth the valour of a Wellesley, and the indomitable gallantry of a +Gahagan; which was illustrated by our victories at Ahmednuggar (where I was the +first over the barricade at the storming of the Pettah); at Argaum, where I +slew with my own sword twenty-three matchlock-men, and cut a dromedary in two; +and by that terrible day of Assaye, where Wellesley would have been beaten but +for me—me alone: I headed nineteen charges of cavalry, took (aided by only four +men of my own troop) seventeen field-pieces, killing the scoundrelly French +artillerymen; on that day I had eleven elephants shot under me, and carried +away Scindiah’s nose- ring with a pistol-ball. Wellesley is a Duke and a +Marshal, I but a simple Major of Irregulars. Such is fortune and war! But my +feelings carry me away from my narrative, which had better proceed with more +order. +</p> + +<p> +On arriving, I say, at our barracks at Dum Dum, I for the first time put on the +beautiful uniform of the Invincibles: a light blue swallow-tailed jacket with +silver lace and wings, ornamented with about 3,000 sugar-loaf buttons, +rhubarb-coloured leather inexpressibles (tights), and red morocco boots with +silver spurs and tassels, set off to admiration the handsome persons of the +officers of our corps. We wore powder in those days; and a regulation pigtail +of seventeen inches, a brass helmet surrounded by leopard skin, with a bearskin +top and a horsetail feather, gave the head a fierce and chivalrous appearance, +which is far more easily imagined than described. +</p> + +<p> +Attired in this magnificent costume, I first presented myself before Colonel +Jowler. He was habited in a manner precisely similar, but not being more than +five feet in height, and weighing at least fifteen stone, the dress he wore did +not become him quite so much as slimmer and taller men. Flanked by his tall +Majors, Thrupp and Gutch, he looked like a stumpy skittle-ball between two +attenuated skittles. The plump little Colonel received me with vast cordiality, +and I speedily became a prime favourite with himself and the other officers of +the corps. Jowler was the most hospitable of men; and gratifying my appetite +and my love together, I continually partook of his dinners, and feasted on the +sweet presence of Julia. +</p> + +<p> +I can see now, what I would not and could not perceive in those early days, +that this Miss Jowler—on whom I had lavished my first and warmest love, whom I +had endowed with all perfection and purity—was no better than a little impudent +flirt, who played with my feelings, because during the monotony of a sea voyage +she had no other toy to play with; and who deserted others for me, and me for +others, just as her whim or her interest might guide her. She had not been +three weeks at headquarters when half the regiment was in love with her. Each +and all of the candidates had some favour to boast of, or some encouraging +hopes on which to build. It was the scene of the “Samuel Snob” over again, only +heightened in interest by a number of duels. The following list will give the +reader a notion of some of them:— +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +1. Cornet Gahagan . . . Ensign Hicks, of the Sappers and Miners. Hicks received +a ball in his jaw, and was half choked by a quantity of carroty whisker forced +down his throat with the ball. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +2. Captain Macgillicuddy, B.N.I. Cornet Gahagan. I was run through the body, +but the sword passed between the ribs, and injured me very slightly. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +3. Captain Macgillicuddy, B.N.I. Mr. Mulligatawny, B.C.S., Deputy- Assistant +Vice Sub-Controller of the Boggleywollah Indigo grounds, Ramgolly branch. +</p> + +<p> +Macgillicuddy should have stuck to sword’s play, and he might have come off in +his second duel as well as in his first; as it was, the civilian placed a ball +and a part of Mac’s gold repeater in his stomach. A remarkable circumstance +attended this shot, an account of which I sent home to the “Philosophical +Transactions:” the surgeon had extracted the ball, and was going off, thinking +that all was well, when the gold repeater struck thirteen in poor +Macgillicuddy’s abdomen. I suppose that the works must have been disarranged in +some way by the bullet, for the repeater was one of Barraud’s, never known to +fail before, and the circumstance occurred at <i>seven</i> o’clock.<a +href="#fn1" name="fnref1"><sup>[1]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p> +I could continue, almost <i>ad infinitum</i>, an account of the wars which this +Helen occasioned, but the above three specimens will, I should think, satisfy +the peaceful reader. I delight not in scenes of blood, Heaven knows, but I was +compelled in the course of a few weeks, and for the sake of this one woman, to +fight nine duels myself, and I know that four times as many more took place +concerning her. +</p> + +<p> +I forgot to say that Jowler’s wife was a half-caste woman, who had been born +and bred entirely in India, and whom the Colonel had married from the house of +her mother, a native. There were some singular rumours abroad regarding this +latter lady’s history: it was reported that she was the daughter of a native +Rajah, and had been carried off by a poor English subaltern in Lord Clive’s +time. The young man was killed very soon after, and left his child with its +mother. The black Prince forgave his daughter and bequeathed to her a handsome +sum of money. I suppose that it was on this account that Jowler married Mrs. +J., a creature who had not, I do believe, a Christian name, or a single +Christian quality: she was a hideous, bloated, yellow creature, with a beard, +black teeth, and red eyes: she was fat, lying, ugly, and stingy—she hated and +was hated by all the world, and by her jolly husband as devoutly as by any +other. She did not pass a month in the year with him, but spent most of her +time with her native friends. I wonder how she could have given birth to so +lovely a creature as her daughter. This woman was of course with the Colonel +when Julia arrived, and the spice of the devil in her daughter’s composition +was most carefully nourished and fed by her. If Julia had been a flirt before, +she was a downright jilt now; she set the whole cantonment by the ears; she +made wives jealous and husbands miserable; she caused all those duels of which +I have discoursed already, and yet such was the fascination of <small>THE +WITCH</small> that I still thought her an angel. I made court to the nasty +mother in order to be near the daughter; and I listened untiringly to Jowler’s +interminable dull stories, because I was occupied all the time in watching the +graceful movements of Miss Julia. +</p> + +<p> +But the trumpet of war was soon ringing in our ears; and on the battle-field +Gahagan is a man! The Bundelcund Invincibles received orders to march, and +Jowler, Hector-like, donned his helmet and prepared to part from his +Andromache. And now arose his perplexity: what must be done with his daughter, +his Julia? He knew his wife’s peculiarities of living, and did not much care to +trust his daughter to her keeping; but in vain he tried to find her an asylum +among the respectable ladies of his regiment. Lady Gutch offered to receive +her, but would have nothing to do with Mrs. Jowler; the surgeon’s wife, Mrs. +Sawbone, would have neither mother nor daughter: there was no help for it, +Julia and her mother must have a house together, and Jowler knew that his wife +would fill it with her odious blackamoor friends. +</p> + +<p> +I could not, however, go forth satisfied to the campaign until I learned from +Julia my fate. I watched twenty opportunities to see her alone, and wandered +about the Colonel’s bungalow as an informer does about a public-house, marking +the incomings and the outgoings of the family, and longing to seize the moment +when Miss Jowler, unbiassed by her mother or her papa, might listen, perhaps, +to my eloquence, and melt at the tale of my love. +</p> + +<p> +But it would not do—old Jowler seemed to have taken all of a sudden to such a +fit of domesticity, that there was no finding him out of doors, and his +rhubarb-coloured wife (I believe that her skin gave the first idea of our +regimental breeches), who before had been gadding ceaselessly abroad, and +poking her broad nose into every <i>ménage</i> in the cantonment, stopped +faithfully at home with her spouse. My only chance was to beard the old couple +in their den, and ask them at once for their <i>cub</i>. +</p> + +<p> +So I called one day at tiffin:- old Jowler was always happy to have my company +at this meal; it amused him, he said, to see me drink Hodgson’s pale ale (I +drank two hundred and thirty-four dozen the first year I was in Bengal)—and it +was no small piece of fun, certainly, to see old Mrs. Jowler attack the +currie-bhaut;—she was exactly the colour of it, as I have had already the +honour to remark, and she swallowed the mixture with a gusto which was never +equalled, except by my poor friend Dando <i>à propos d’huîtres</i>. She +consumed the first three platefuls with a fork and spoon, like a Christian; but +as she warmed to her work, the old hag would throw away her silver implements, +and dragging the dishes towards her, go to work with her hands, flip the rice +into her mouth with her fingers, and stow away a quantity of eatables +sufficient for a sepoy company. But why do I diverge from the main point of my +story? +</p> + +<p> +Julia, then, Jowler, and Mrs. J., were at luncheon; the dear girl was in the +act to <i>sabler</i> a glass of Hodgson as I entered. “How do you do, Mr. +Gagin?” said the old hag, leeringly. “Eat a bit o’ currie-bhaut,”—and she +thrust the dish towards me, securing a heap as it passed. “What! Gagy my boy, +how do, how do?” said the fat Colonel. “What! run through the body?—got well +again—have some Hodgson—run through your body too!”—and at this, I may say, +coarse joke (alluding to the fact that in these hot climates the ale oozes out +as it were from the pores of the skin) old Jowler laughed: a host of swarthy +chobdars, kitmatgars, sices, consomahs, and bobbychies laughed too, as they +provided me, unasked, with the grateful fluid. Swallowing six tumblers of it, I +paused nervously for a moment, and then said - +</p> + +<p> +“Bobbachy, consomah, ballybaloo hoga.” +</p> + +<p> +The black ruffians took the hint, and retired. +</p> + +<p> +“Colonel and Mrs. Jowler,” said I solemnly, “we are alone; and you, Miss +Jowler, you are alone too; that is—I mean—I take this opportunity to—(another +glass of ale, if you please)—to express, once for all, before departing on a +dangerous campaign”—(Julia turned pale)—“before entering, I say, upon a war +which may stretch in the dust my high-raised hopes and me, to express my hopes +while life still remains to me, and to declare in the face of heaven, earth, +and Colonel Jowler, that I love you, Julia!” The Colonel, astonished, let fall +a steel fork, which stuck quivering for some minutes in the calf of my leg; but +I heeded not the paltry interruption. “Yes, by yon bright heaven,” continued I, +“I love you, Julia! I respect my commander, I esteem your excellent and +beauteous mother: tell me, before I leave you, if I may hope for a return of my +affection. Say that you love me, and I will do such deeds in this coming war, +as shall make you proud of the name of your Gahagan.” +</p> + +<p> +The old woman, as I delivered these touching words, stared, snapped, and ground +her teeth, like an enraged monkey. Julia was now red, now white; the Colonel +stretched forward, took the fork out of the calf of my leg, wiped it, and then +seized a bundle of letters which I had remarked by his side. +</p> + +<p> +“A cornet!” said he, in a voice choking with emotion; “a pitiful beggarly Irish +cornet aspire to the hand of Julia Jowler! Gag— Gahagan, are you mad, or +laughing at us? Look at these letters, young man—at these letters, I say—one +hundred and twenty-four epistles from every part of India (not including one +from the Governor-General, and six from his brother, Colonel Wellesley)—one +hundred and twenty-four proposals for the hand of Miss Jowler! Cornet Gahagan,” +he continued, “I wish to think well of you: you are the bravest, the most +modest, and, perhaps, the handsomest man in our corps; but you have not got a +single rupee. You ask me for Julia, and you do not possess even an anna!”—(Here +the old rogue grinned, as if he had made a capital pun.)—“No, no,” said he, +waxing good-natured; “Gagy my boy, it is nonsense! Julia love, retire with your +mamma; this silly young gentleman will remain and smoke a pipe with me.” +</p> + +<p> +I took one: it was the bitterest chillum I ever smoked in my life. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +I am not going to give here an account of my military services; they will +appear in my great national autobiography, in forty volumes, which I am now +preparing for the press. I was with my regiment in all Wellesley’s brilliant +campaigns; then taking dawk, I travelled across the country north-eastward, and +had the honour of fighting by the side of Lord Lake at Laswaree, Degg, +Furruckabad, Futtyghur, and Bhurtpore: but I will not boast of my actions—the +military man knows them, <small>MY SOVEREIGN</small> appreciates them. If asked +who was the bravest man of the Indian army, there is not an officer belonging +to it who would not cry at once, G<small>AHAGAN</small>. The fact is, I was +desperate: I cared not for life, deprived of Julia Jowler. +</p> + +<p> +With Julia’s stony looks ever before my eyes, her father’s stern refusal in my +ears, I did not care, at the close of the campaign, again to seek her company +or to press my suit. We were eighteen months on service, marching and +counter-marching, and fighting almost every other day: to the world I did not +seem altered; but the world only saw the face, and not the seared and blighted +heart within me. My valour, always desperate, now reached to a pitch of +cruelty; I tortured my grooms and grass-cutters for the most trifling offence +or error,—I never in action spared a man,—I sheared off three hundred and nine +heads in the course of that single campaign. +</p> + +<p> +Some influence, equally melancholy, seemed to have fallen upon poor old Jowler. +About six months after we had left Dum Dum, he received a parcel of letters +from Benares (whither his wife had retired with her daughter), and so deeply +did they seem to weigh upon his spirits, that he ordered eleven men of his +regiment to be flogged within two days; but it was against the blacks that he +chiefly turned his wrath. Our fellows, in the heat and hurry of the campaign, +were in the habit of dealing rather roughly with their prisoners, to extract +treasure from them: they used to pull their nails out by the root, to boil them +in kedgeree pots, to flog them and dress their wounds with cayenne pepper, and +so on. Jowler, when he heard of these proceedings, which before had always +justly exasperated him (he was a humane and kind little man), used now to smile +fiercely and say, “D- the black scoundrels! Serve them right, serve them +right!” +</p> + +<p> +One day, about a couple of miles in advance of the column, I had been on a +foraging-party with a few dragoons, and was returning peaceably to camp, when +of a sudden a troop of Mahrattas burst on us from a neighbouring mango-tope, in +which they had been hidden: in an instant three of my men’s saddles were empty, +and I was left with but seven more to make head against at least thirty of +these vagabond black horsemen. I never saw in my life a nobler figure than the +leader of the troop—mounted on a splendid black Arab; he was as tall, very +nearly, as myself; he wore a steel cap and a shirt of mail, and carried a +beautiful French carbine, which had already done execution upon two of my men. +I saw that our only chance of safety lay in the destruction of this man. I +shouted to him in a voice of thunder (in the Hindustanee tongue of course), +“Stop, dog, if you dare, and encounter a man!” +</p> + +<p> +In reply his lance came whirling in the air over my head, and mortally +transfixed poor Foggarty of ours, who was behind me. Grinding my teeth and +swearing horribly, I drew that scimitar which never yet failed its blow,<a +href="#fn2" name="fnref2"><sup>[2]</sup></a> and rushed at the Indian. He came +down at full gallop, his own sword making ten thousand gleaming circles in the +air, shrieking his cry of battle. +</p> + +<p> +The contest did not last an instant. With my first blow I cut off his sword-arm +at the wrist; my second I levelled at his head. I said that he wore a steel +cap, with a gilt iron spike of six inches, and a hood of chain mail. I rose in +my stirrups and delivered “<i>St. George;</i>” my sword caught the spike +exactly on the point, split it sheer in two, cut crashing through the steel cap +and hood, and was only stopped by a ruby which he wore in his back- plate. His +head, cut clean in two between the eyebrows and nostrils, even between the two +front teeth, fell one side on each shoulder, and he galloped on till his horse +was stopped by my men, who were not a little amused at the feat. +</p> + +<p> +As I had expected, the remaining ruffians fled on seeing their leader’s fate. I +took home his helmet by way of curiosity, and we made a single prisoner, who +was instantly carried before old Jowler. +</p> + +<p> +We asked the prisoner the name of the leader of the troop: he said it was +Chowder Loll. +</p> + +<p> +“Chowder Loll!” shrieked Colonel Jowler. “O Fate! thy hand is here!” He rushed +wildly into his tent—the next day applied for leave of absence. Gutch took the +command of the regiment, and I saw him no more for some time. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +As I had distinguished myself not a little during the war, General Lake sent me +up with despatches to Calcutta, where Lord Wellesley received me with the +greatest distinction. Fancy my surprise, on going to a ball at Government +House, to meet my old friend Jowler; my trembling, blushing, thrilling delight, +when I saw Julia by his side! +</p> + +<p> +Jowler seemed to blush too when he beheld me. I thought of my former passages +with his daughter. “Gagy my boy,” says he, shaking hands, “glad to see you. Old +friend, Julia—come to tiffin— Hodgson’s pale—brave fellow Gagy.” Julia did not +speak, but she turned ashy pale, and fixed upon me her awful eyes! I fainted +almost, and uttered some incoherent words. Julia took my hand, gazed at me +still, and said, “Come!” Need I say I went? +</p> + +<p> +I will not go over the pale ale and currie-bhaut again! but this I know, that +in half-an-hour I was as much in love as I ever had been: and that in three +weeks I—yes, I—was the accepted lover of Julia! I did not pause to ask where +were the one hundred and twenty-four offers? why I, refused before, should be +accepted now? I only felt that I loved her, and was happy! +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +One night, one memorable night, I could not sleep, and, with a lover’s +pardonable passion, wandered solitary through the City of Palaces until I came +to the house which contained my Julia. I peeped into the compound—all was +still; I looked into the verandah—all was dark, except a light—yes, one +light—and it was in Julia’s chamber! My heart throbbed almost to stifling. I +would—I <i>would</i> advance, if but to gaze upon her for a moment, and to +bless her as she slept. I <i>did</i> look, I <i>did</i> advance; and, O Heaven! +I saw a lamp burning, Mrs. Jow. in a night-dress, with a very dark baby in her +arms, and Julia looking tenderly at an ayah, who was nursing another. +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, Mamma,” said Julia, “what would that fool Gahagan say if he knew all?” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>He does know all!</i>” shouted I, springing forward, and tearing down the +tatties from the window. Mrs. Jow. ran shrieking out of the room, Julia +fainted, the cursed black children squalled, and their d-d nurse fell on her +knees, gabbling some infernal jargon of Hindustanee. Old Jowler at this +juncture entered with a candle and a drawn sword. +</p> + +<p> +“Liar! scoundrel! deceiver!” shouted I. “Turn, ruffian, and defend yourself!” +But old Jowler, when he saw me, only whistled, looked at his lifeless daughter, +and slowly left the room. +</p> + +<p> +Why continue the tale? I need not now account for Jowler’s gloom on receiving +his letters from Benares—for his exclamation upon the death of the Indian +chief—for his desire to marry his daughter: the woman I was wooing was no +longer Miss Julia Jowler, she was Mrs. Chowder Loll! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a> +CHAPTER II<br/> +Allyghur and Laswaree</h2> + +<p> +I sat down to write gravely and sadly, for (since the appearance of some of my +adventures in a monthly magazine) unprincipled men have endeavoured to rob me +of the only good I possess, to question the statements that I make, and, +themselves without a spark of honour or good feeling, to steal from me that +which is my sole wealth—my character as a teller of <small>THE TRUTH</small>. +</p> + +<p> +The reader will understand that it is to the illiberal strictures of a +profligate press I now allude; among the London journalists, none (luckily for +themselves) have dared to question the veracity of my statements: they know me, +and they know that I am <i>in London</i>. If I can use the pen, I can also +wield a more manly and terrible weapon, and would answer their contradictions +with my sword! No gold or gems adorn the hilt of that war-worn scimitar; but +there is blood upon the blade—the blood of the enemies of my country, and the +maligners of my honest fame. There are others, however—the disgrace of a +disgraceful trade—who, borrowing from distance a despicable courage, have +ventured to assail me. The infamous editors of the <i>Kelso Champion</i>, the +<i>Bungay Beacon</i>, the <i>Tipperary Argus</i>, and the <i>Stoke Pogis +Sentinel</i>, and other dastardly organs of the provincial press, have, +although differing in politics, agreed upon this one point, and, with a +scoundrelly unanimity, vented a flood of abuse upon the revelations made by me. +</p> + +<p> +They say that I have assailed private characters, and wilfully perverted +history to blacken the reputation of public men. I ask, was any one of these +men in Bengal in the year 1803? Was any single conductor of any one of these +paltry prints ever in Bundelcund or the Rohilla country? Does this +<i>exquisite</i> Tipperary scribe know the difference between Hurrygurrybang +and Burrumtollah? Not he! and because, forsooth, in those strange and distant +lands strange circumstances have taken place, it is insinuated that the relater +is a liar: nay, that the very places themselves have no existence but in my +imagination. Fools!—but I will not waste my anger upon them, and proceed to +recount some other portions of my personal history. +</p> + +<p> +It is, I presume, a fact which even <i>these</i> scribbling assassins will not +venture to deny, that before the commencement of the campaign against Scindiah, +the English General formed a camp at Kanouge on the Jumna, where he exercised +that brilliant little army which was speedily to perform such wonders in the +Dooab. It will be as well to give a slight account of the causes of a war which +was speedily to rage through some of the fairest portions of the Indian +continent. +</p> + +<p> +Shah Allum, the son of Shah Lollum, the descendant by the female line of Nadir +Shah (that celebrated Toorkomaun adventurer, who had well-nigh hurled Bajazet +and Selim the Second from the throne of Bagdad)—Shah Allum, I say, although +nominally the Emperor of Delhi, was in reality the slave of the various warlike +chieftains who lorded it by turns over the country and the sovereign, until +conquered and slain by some more successful rebel. Chowder Loll Masolgee, +Zubberdust Khan, Dowsunt Row Scindiah, and the celebrated Bobbachy Jung +Bahawder, had held for a time complete mastery in Delhi. The second of these, a +ruthless Afghan soldier, had abruptly entered the capital; nor was he ejected +from it until he had seized upon the principal jewels, and likewise put out the +eyes of the last of the unfortunate family of Afrasiab. Scindiah came to the +rescue of the sightless Shah Allum, and though he destroyed his oppressor, only +increased his slavery; holding him in as painful a bondage as he had suffered +under the tyrannous Afghan. +</p> + +<p> +As long as these heroes were battling among themselves, or as long rather as it +appeared that they had any strength to fight a battle, the British Government, +ever anxious to see its enemies by the ears, by no means interfered in the +contest. But the French Revolution broke out, and a host of starving +sans-culottes appeared among the various Indian States, seeking for military +service, and inflaming the minds of the various native princes against the +British East India Company. A number of these entered into Scindiah’s ranks: +one of them, Perron, was commander of his army; and though that chief was as +yet quite engaged in his hereditary quarrel with Jeswunt Row Holkar, and never +thought of an invasion of the British territory, the Company all of a sudden +discovered that Shah Allum, his sovereign, was shamefully ill-used, and +determined to re-establish the ancient splendour of his throne. +</p> + +<p> +Of course it was sheer benevolence for poor Shah Allum that prompted our +governors to take these kindly measures in his favour. I don’t know how it +happened that, at the end of the war, the poor Shah was not a whit better off +than at the beginning; and that though Holkar was beaten, and Scindiah +annihilated, Shah Allum was much such a puppet as before. Somehow, in the hurry +and confusion of this struggle, the oyster remained with the British +Government, who had so kindly offered to dress it for the Emperor, while His +Majesty was obliged to be contented with the shell. +</p> + +<p> +The force encamped at Kanouge bore the title of the Grand Army of the Ganges +and the Jumna; it consisted of eleven regiments of cavalry and twelve +battalions of infantry, and was commanded by General Lake in person. +</p> + +<p> +Well, on the 1st of September we stormed Perron’s camp at Allyghur; on the +fourth we took that fortress by assault; and as my name was mentioned in +general orders, I may as well quote the Commander-in- Chief’s words regarding +me—they will spare me the trouble of composing my own eulogium:- +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“The Commander-in-Chief is proud thus publicly to declare his high sense of the +gallantry of Lieutenant Gahagan, of the — Cavalry. In the storming of the +fortress, although unprovided with a single ladder, and accompanied but by a +few brave men, Lieutenant Gahagan succeeded in escalading the inner and +fourteenth wall of the place. Fourteen ditches lined with sword-blades and +poisoned chevaux-de- frise, fourteen walls bristling with innumerable artillery +and as smooth as looking-glasses, were in turn triumphantly passed by that +enterprising officer. His course was to be traced by the heaps of slaughtered +enemies lying thick upon the platforms; and alas! by the corpses of most of the +gallant men who followed him! When at length he effected his lodgment, and the +dastardly enemy, who dared not to confront him with arms, let loose upon him +the tigers and lions of Scindiah’s menagerie, this meritorious officer +destroyed, with his own hand, four of the largest and most ferocious animals, +and the rest, awed by the indomitable majesty of B<small>RITISH VALOUR</small>, +shrank back to their dens. Thomas Higgory, a private, and Runty Goss, havildar, +were the only two who remained out of the nine hundred who followed Lieutenant +Gahagan. Honour to them! Honour and tears for the brave men who perished on +that awful day!” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +I have copied this, word for word, from the <i>Bengal Hurkaru</i> of September +24, 1803: and anybody who has the slightest doubt as to the statement, may +refer to the paper itself. +</p> + +<p> +And here I must pause to give thanks to Fortune, which so marvellously +preserved me, Sergeant-Major Higgory, and Runty Goss. Were I to say that any +valour of ours had carried us unhurt through this tremendous combat, the reader +would laugh me to scorn. No: though my narrative is extraordinary, it is +nevertheless authentic: and never never would I sacrifice truth for the mere +sake of effect. The fact is this:- the citadel of Allyghur is situated upon a +rock, about a thousand feet above the level of the sea, and is surrounded by +fourteen walls, as his Excellency was good enough to remark in his despatch. A +man who would mount these without scaling-ladders, is an ass; he who would +<i>say</i> he mounted them without such assistance, is a liar and a knave. We +<i>had</i> scaling- ladders at the commencement of the assault, although it was +quite impossible to carry them beyond the first line of batteries. Mounted on +them, however, as our troops were falling thick about me, I saw that we must +ignominiously retreat, unless some other help could be found for our brave +fellows to escalade the next wall. It was about seventy feet high. I instantly +turned the guns of wall <i>A</i> on wall <i>B</i>, and peppered the latter so +as to make, not a breach, but a scaling place; the men mounting in the holes +made by the shot. By this simple stratagem, I managed to pass each successive +barrier—for to ascend a wall which the General was pleased to call “as smooth +as glass” is an absurd impossibility: I seek to achieve none such:- +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“I dare do all that may become a man;<br/> +Who dares do more, is neither more nor less.” +</p> + +<p> +Of course, had the enemy’s guns been commonly well served, not one of us would +ever have been alive out of the three; but whether it was owing to fright, or +to the excessive smoke caused by so many pieces of artillery, arrive we did. On +the platforms, too, our work was not quite so difficult as might be +imagined—killing these fellows was sheer butchery. As soon as we appeared, they +all turned and fled helter-skelter, and the reader may judge of their courage +by the fact that out of about seven hundred men killed by us, only forty had +wounds in front, the rest being bayoneted as they ran. +</p> + +<p> +And beyond all other pieces of good fortune was the very letting out of these +tigers; which was the <i>dernier ressort</i> of Bournonville, the second +commandant of the fort. I had observed this man (conspicuous for a tricoloured +scarf which he wore) upon every one of the walls as we stormed them, and +running away the very first among the fugitives. He had all the keys of the +gates; and in his tremor, as he opened the menagerie portal, left the whole +bunch in the door, which I seized when the animals were overcome. Runty Goss +then opened them one by one, our troops entered, and the victorious standard of +my country floated on the walls of Allyghur! +</p> + +<p> +When the General, accompanied by his staff, entered the last line of +fortifications, the brave old man raised me from the dead rhinoceros on which I +was seated, and pressed me to his breast. But the excitement which had borne me +through the fatigues and perils of that fearful day failed all of a sudden, and +I wept like a child upon his shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +Promotion, in our army, goes unluckily by seniority; nor is it in the power of +the General-in-Chief to advance a Cæsar, if he finds him in the capacity of a +subaltern: <i>my</i> reward for the above exploit was, therefore, not very +rich. His Excellency had a favourite horn snuff-box (for, though exalted in +station, he was in his habits most simple): of this, and about a quarter of an +ounce of high-dried Welsh, which he always took, he made me a present, saying, +in front of the line, “Accept this, Mr. Gahagan, as a token of respect from the +first to the bravest officer in the army.” +</p> + +<p> +Calculating the snuff to be worth a halfpenny, I should say that fourpence was +about the value of this gift: but it has at least this good effect—it serves to +convince any person who doubts my story, that the facts of it are really true. +I have left it at the office of my publisher, along with the extract from the +<i>Bengal Hurkaru</i>, and anybody may examine both by applying in the +counting- house of Mr. Cunningham.<a href="#fn3" +name="fnref3"><sup>[3]</sup></a> That once popular expression, or proverb, “Are +you up to snuff?” arose out of the above circumstance; for the officers of my +corps, none of whom, except myself, had ventured on the storming party, used to +twit me about this modest reward for my labours. Never mind! when they want me +to storm a fort <i>again</i>, I shall know better. +</p> + +<p> +Well, immediately after the capture of this important fortress, Perron, who had +been the life and soul of Scindiah’s army, came in to us, with his family and +treasure, and was passed over to the French settlements at Chandernagur. +Bourquien took his command, and against him we now moved. The morning of the +11th of September found us upon the plains of Delhi. +</p> + +<p> +It was a burning hot day, and we were all refreshing ourselves after the +morning’s march, when I, who was on the advanced picket along with O’Gawler of +the King’s Dragoons, was made aware of the enemy’s neighbourhood in a very +singular manner. O’Gawler and I were seated under a little canopy of +horse-cloths, which we had formed to shelter us from the intolerable heat of +the sun, and were discussing with great delight a few Manilla cheroots, and a +stone jar of the most exquisite, cool, weak, refreshing sangaree. We had been +playing cards the night before, and O’Gawler had lost to me seven hundred +rupees. I emptied the last of the sangaree into the two pint tumblers out of +which we were drinking, and holding mine up, said, “Here’s better luck to you +next time, O’Gawler!” +</p> + +<p> +As I spoke the words—whish!—a cannon-ball cut the tumbler clean out of my hand, +and plumped into poor O’Gawler’s stomach. It settled him completely, and of +course I never got my seven hundred rupees. Such are the uncertainties of war! +</p> + +<p> +To strap on my sabre and my accoutrements—to mount my Arab charger—to drink off +what O’Gawler had left of the sangaree—and to gallop to the General, was the +work of a moment. I found him as comfortably at tiffin as if he were at his own +house in London. +</p> + +<p> +“General,” said I, as soon as I got into his paijamahs (or tent), “you must +leave your lunch if you want to fight the enemy.” +</p> + +<p> +“The enemy—psha! Mr. Gahagan, the enemy is on the other side of the river.” +</p> + +<p> +“I can only tell your Excellency that the enemy’s guns will hardly carry five +miles, and that Cornet O’Gawler was this moment shot dead at my side with a +cannon-ball.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha! is it so?” said his Excellency, rising, and laying down the drumstick of a +grilled chicken. “Gentlemen, remember that the eyes of Europe are upon us, and +follow me!” +</p> + +<p> +Each aide-de-camp started from table and seized his cocked hat; each British +heart beat high at the thoughts of the coming <i>mêlée</i>. We mounted our +horses, and galloped swiftly after the brave old General; I not the last in the +train, upon my famous black charger. +</p> + +<p> +It was perfectly true, the enemy were posted in force within three miles of our +camp, and from a hillock in the advance to which we galloped, we were enabled +with our telescopes to see the whole of his imposing line. Nothing can better +describe it than this:- +</p> + +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ___________________ A + /.................... + /. +/. +</pre> + +<p> +- A is the enemy, and the dots represent the hundred and twenty pieces of +artillery which defended his line. He was moreover, entrenched; and a wide +morass in his front gave him an additional security. +</p> + +<p> +His Excellency for a moment surveyed the line, and then said, turning round to +one of his aides-de-camp, “Order up Major-General Tinkler and the cavalry.” +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Here</i>, does your Excellency mean?” said the aide-de-camp, surprised, for +the enemy had perceived us, and the cannon-balls were flying about as thick as +peas. +</p> + +<p> +“<i>Here, sir!</i>” said the old General, stamping with his foot in a passion, +and the A.D.C. shrugged his shoulders and galloped away. In five minutes we +heard the trumpets in our camp, and in twenty more the greater part of the +cavalry had joined us. +</p> + +<p> +Up they came, five thousand men, their standards flapping in the air, their +long line of polished jack-boots gleaming in the golden sunlight. “And now we +are here,” said Major-General Sir Theophilus Tinkler, “what next?” “Oh, d- it,” +said the Commander-in-Chief, “charge, charge—nothing like +charging—galloping—guns—rascally black scoundrels—charge, charge!” And then +turning round to me (perhaps he was glad to change the conversation), he said, +“Lieutenant Gahagan, you will stay with me.” +</p> + +<p> +And well for him I did, for I do not hesitate to say that the battle <i>was +gained by me</i>. I do not mean to insult the reader by pretending that any +personal exertions of mine turned the day,— that I killed, for instance, a +regiment of cavalry or swallowed a battery of guns,—such absurd tales would +disgrace both the hearer and the teller. I, as is well known, never say a +single word which cannot be proved, and hate more than all other vices the +absurd sin of egotism: I simply mean that my <i>advice</i> to the General, at a +quarter-past two o’clock in the afternoon of that day, won this great triumph +for the British army. +</p> + +<p> +Gleig, Mill, and Thorn have all told the tale of this war, though somehow they +have omitted all mention of the hero of it. General Lake, for the victory of +that day, became Lord Lake of Laswaree. Laswaree! and who, forsooth, was the +real conqueror of Laswaree? I can lay my hand upon my heart and say that +<i>I</i> was. If any proof is wanting of the fact, let me give it at once, and +from the highest military testimony in the world—I mean that of the Emperor +Napoleon. +</p> + +<p> +In the month of March, 1817, I was passenger on board the “Prince Regent,” +Captain Harris, which touched at St. Helena on its passage from Calcutta to +England. In company with the other officers on board the ship, I paid my +respects to the illustrious exile of Longwood, who received us in his garden, +where he was walking about, in a nankeen dress and a large broad-brimmed straw +hat, with General Montholon, Count Las Casas, and his son Emanuel, then a +little boy; who I dare say does not recollect me, but who nevertheless played +with my sword-knot and the tassels of my Hessian boots during the whole of our +interview with his Imperial Majesty. +</p> + +<p> +Our names were read out (in a pretty accent, by the way!) by General Montholon, +and the Emperor, as each was pronounced, made a bow to the owner of it, but did +not vouchsafe a word. At last Montholon came to mine. The Emperor looked me at +once in the face, took his hands out of his pockets, put them behind his back, +and coming up to me smiling, pronounced the following words:- +</p> + +<p> +“Assaye, Delhi, Deeg, Futtyghur?” +</p> + +<p> +I blushed, and, taking off my hat with a bow, said, “Sire, c’est moi.” +</p> + +<p> +“Parbleu! je le savais bien,” said the Emperor, holding out his snuff-box. “En +usez-vous, Major?” I took a large pinch (which, with the honour of speaking to +so great a man, brought the tears into my eyes), and he continued as nearly as +possible in the following words:- +</p> + +<p> +“Sir, you are known; you come of an heroic nation. Your third brother, the Chef +de Bataillon, Count Godfrey Gahagan, was in my Irish Brigade.” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Gahagan</i>. “Sire, it is true. He and my countrymen in your Majesty’s +service stood under the green flag in the breach of Burgos, and beat Wellington +back. It was the only time, as your Majesty knows, that Irishmen and Englishmen +were beaten in that war.” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Napoleon</i> (<i>looking as if he would say, “D— your candour, Major +Gahagan”</i>). “Well, well; it was so. Your brother was a Count, and died a +General in my service.” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Gahagan</i>. “He was found lying upon the bodies of nine-and-twenty Cossacks +at Borodino. They were all dead, and bore the Gahagan mark.” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Napoleon</i> (<i>to Montholon</i>). “C’est vrai, Montholon: je vous donne ma +parole d’honneur la plus sacrée, que c’est vrai. Ils ne sont pas d’autres, ces +terribles Ga’gans. You must know that Monsieur gained the battle of Delhi as +certainly as I did that of Austerlitz. In this way:— Ce bélitre de Lor Lake, +after calling up his cavalry, and placing them in front of Holkar’s batteries, +qui balayaient la plaine, was for charging the enemy’s batteries with his +horse, who would have been écrasés, mitraillés, foudroyés to a man but for the +cunning of ce grand rogue que vous voyez.” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Montholon</i>. “Coquin de Major, va!” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Napoleon</i>. “Montholon! tais-toi. When Lord Lake, with his great +bull-headed English obstinacy, saw the <i>fâcheuse</i> position into which he +had brought his troops, he was for dying on the spot, and would infallibly have +done so—and the loss of his army would have been the ruin of the East India +Company—and the ruin of the English East India Company would have established +my Empire (bah! it was a republic then!) in the East—but that the man before +us, Lieutenant Goliah Gahagan, was riding at the side of General Lake.” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Montholon</i> (<i>with an accent of despair and fury</i>). “Gredin! cent +mille tonnerres de Dieu!” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Napoleon</i> (<i>benignantly</i>). “Calme-toi, mon fidèle ami. What will +you? It was fate. Gahagan, at the critical period of the battle, or rather +slaughter (for the English had not slain a man of the enemy), advised a +retreat.” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Montholon</i>. “Le lâche! Un Français meurt, mais il ne recule jamais.” +</p> + +<p> +<i>Napoleon</i>. “<i>Stupide!</i> Don’t you see <i>why</i> the retreat was +ordered?— don’t you know that it was a feint on the part of Gahagan to draw +Holkar from his impregnable entrenchments? Don’t you know that the ignorant +Indian fell into the snare, and issuing from behind the cover of his guns, came +down with his cavalry on the plains in pursuit of Lake and his dragoons? Then +it was that the Englishmen turned upon him; the hardy children of the North +swept down his feeble horsemen, bore them back to their guns, which were +useless, entered Holkar’s entrenchments along with his troops, sabred the +artillerymen at their pieces, and won the battle of Delhi!” +</p> + +<p> +As the Emperor spoke, his pale cheek glowed red, his eye flashed fire, his deep +clear voice rung as of old when he pointed out the enemy from beneath the +shadow of the Pyramids, or rallied his regiments to the charge upon the +death-strewn plain of Wagram. I have had many a proud moment in my life, but +never such a proud one as this; and I would readily pardon the word “coward,” +as applied to me by Montholon, in consideration of the testimony which his +master bore in my favour. +</p> + +<p> +“Major,” said the Emperor to me in conclusion, “why had I not such a man as you +in my service? I would have made you a Prince and a Marshal!” and here he fell +into a reverie, of which I knew and respected the purport. He was thinking, +doubtless, that I might have retrieved his fortunes; and indeed I have very +little doubt that I might. +</p> + +<p> +Very soon after, coffee was brought by Monsieur Marchand, Napoleon’s +valet-de-chambre, and after partaking of that beverage, and talking upon the +politics of the day, the Emperor withdrew, leaving me deeply impressed by the +condescension he had shown in this remarkable interview. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a> +CHAPTER III<br/> +A Peep into Spain—Account of the Origin and Services of the Ahmednuggar +Irregulars</h2> + +<p class="right"> +H<small>EADQUARTERS</small>, M<small>ORELLA</small>: <i>September</i> 15, 1838 +</p> + +<p> +I have been here for some months, along with my young friend Cabrera: and in +the hurry and bustle of war—daily on guard and in the batteries for sixteen +hours out of the twenty-four, with fourteen severe wounds and seven +musket-balls in my body—it may be imagined that I have had little time to think +about the publication of my memoirs. <i>Inter arma silent leges</i>—in the +midst of fighting be hanged to writing! as the poet says; and I never would +have bothered myself with a pen, had not common gratitude incited me to throw +off a few pages. +</p> + +<p> +Along with Oraa’s troops, who have of late been beleaguering this place, there +was a young Milesian gentleman, Mr. Toone O’Connor Emmett Fitzgerald Sheeny by +name, a law student, and a member of Gray’s Inn, and what he called <i>Bay +Ah</i> of Trinity College, Dublin. Mr. Sheeny was with the Queen’s people, not +in a military capacity, but as representative of an English journal; to which, +for a trifling weekly remuneration, he was in the habit of transmitting +accounts of the movements of the belligerents, and his own opinion of the +politics of Spain. Receiving, for the discharge of his duty, a couple of +guineas a week from the proprietors of the journal in question, he was enabled, +as I need scarcely say, to make such a show in Oraa’s camp as only a Christino +general officer, or at the very least a colonel of a regiment, can afford to +keep up. +</p> + +<p> +In the famous sortie which we made upon the twenty-third, I was of course among +the foremost in the <i>mêlée</i>, and found myself, after a good deal of +slaughtering (which it would be as disagreeable as useless to describe here), +in the court of a small inn or podesta, which had been made the headquarters of +several Queenite officers during the siege. The pesatero or landlord of the inn +had been despatched by my brave chapel-churies, with his fine family of +children—the officers quartered in the podesta had of course bolted; but one +man remained, and my fellows were on the point of cutting him into ten thousand +pieces with their borachios, when I arrived in the room time enough to prevent +the catastrophe. Seeing before me an individual in the costume of a civilian—a +white hat, a light blue satin cravat, embroidered with butterflies and other +quadrupeds, a green coat and brass buttons, and a pair of blue plaid trousers, +I recognised at once a countryman, and interposed to save his life. +</p> + +<p> +In an agonised brogue the unhappy young man was saying all that he could to +induce the chapel-churies to give up their intention of slaughtering him; but +it is very little likely that his protestations would have had any effect upon +them, had not I appeared in the room, and shouted to the ruffians to hold their +hand. +</p> + +<p> +Seeing a general officer before them (I have the honour to hold that rank in +the service of His Catholic Majesty), and moreover one six feet four in height, +and armed with that terrible <i>cabecilla</i> (a sword so called, because it is +five feet long) which is so well known among the Spanish armies—seeing, I say, +this figure, the fellows retired, exclaiming, “Adios, corpo di bacco nosotros,” +and so on, clearly proving (by their words) that they would, if they dared, +have immolated the victim whom I had thus rescued from their fury. “Villains!” +shouted I, hearing them grumble, “away! quit the apartment!” Each man, sulkily +sheathing his sombrero, obeyed, and quitted the camarilla. +</p> + +<p> +It was then that Mr. Sheeny detailed to me the particulars to which I have +briefly adverted; and, informing me at the same time that he had a family in +England who would feel obliged to me for his release, and that his most +intimate friend the English Ambassador would move heaven and earth to revenge +his fall, he directed my attention to a portmanteau passably well filled, which +he hoped would satisfy the cupidity of my troops. I said, though with much +regret, that I must subject his person to a search; and hence arose the +circumstance which has called for what I fear you will consider a somewhat +tedious explanation. I found upon Mr. Sheeny’s person three sovereigns in +English money (which I have to this day), and singularly enough a copy of the +<i>New Monthly Magazine</i>, containing a portion of my adventures. It was a +toss-up whether I should let the poor young man be shot or no, but this little +circumstance saved his life. The gratified vanity of authorship induced me to +accept his portmanteau and valuables, and to allow the poor wretch to go free. +I put the Magazine in my coat-pocket, and left him and the podesta. +</p> + +<p> +The men, to my surprise, had quitted the building, and it was full time for me +to follow; for I found our sallying party, after committing dreadful ravages in +Oraa’s lines, were in full retreat upon the fort, hotly pressed by a superior +force of the enemy. I am pretty well known and respected by the men of both +parties in Spain (indeed I served for some months on the Queen’s side before I +came over to Don Carlos); and, as it is my maxim never to give quarter, I never +expect to receive it when taken myself. On issuing from the podesta with +Sheeny’s portmanteau and my sword in my hand, I was a little disgusted and +annoyed to see our own men in a pretty good column retreating at double-quick, +and about four hundred yards beyond me, up the hill leading to the fort; while +on my left hand, and at only a hundred yards, a troop of the Queenite lancers +were clattering along the road. +</p> + +<p> +I had got into the very middle of the road before I made this discovery, so +that the fellows had a full sight of me, and whizz! came a bullet by my left +whisker before I could say Jack Robinson. I looked round—there were seventy of +the accursed malvados at the least, and within, as I said, a hundred yards. +Were I to say that I stopped to fight seventy men, you would write me down a +fool or a liar: no, sir, I did not fight, I ran away. +</p> + +<p> +I am six feet four—my figure is as well known in the Spanish army as that of +the Count de Luchana, or my fierce little friend Cabrera himself. +“G<small>AHAGAN</small>!” shouted out half-a-dozen scoundrelly voices, and +fifty more shots came rattling after me. I was running— running as the brave +stag before the hounds—running as I have done a great number of times before in +my life, when there was no help for it but a race. +</p> + +<p> +After I had run about five hundred yards, I saw that I had gained nearly three +upon our column in front, and that likewise the Christino horsemen were left +behind some hundred yards more; with the exception of three, who were fearfully +near me. The first was an officer without a lance; he had fired both his +pistols at me, and was twenty yards in advance of his comrades; there was a +similar distance between the two lancers who rode behind him. I determined then +to wait for No. 1, and as he came up delivered cut 3 at his horse’s near +leg—off it flew, and down, as I expected, went horse and man. I had hardly time +to pass my sword through my prostrate enemy, when No. 2 was upon me. If I could +but get that fellow’s horse, thought I, I am safe; and I executed at once the +plan which I hoped was to effect my rescue. +</p> + +<p> +I had, as I said, left the podesta with Sheeny’s portmanteau, and, unwilling to +part with some of the articles it contained—some shirts, a bottle of whisky, a +few cakes of Windsor soap, &c. &c.,— I had carried it thus far on my +shoulders, but now was compelled to sacrifice it <i>malgré moi</i>. As the +lancer came up, I dropped my sword from my right hand, and hurled the +portmanteau at his head, with aim so true, that he fell back on his saddle like +a sack, and thus when the horse galloped up to me, I had no difficulty in +dismounting the rider: the whisky-bottle struck him over his right eye, and he +was completely stunned. To dash him from the saddle and spring myself into it, +was the work of a moment; indeed, the two combats had taken place in about a +fifth part of the time which it has taken the reader to peruse the description. +But in the rapidity of the last encounter, and the mounting of my enemy’s +horse, I had committed a very absurd oversight—I was scampering away <i>without +my sword!</i> What was I to do?—to scamper on, to be sure, and trust to the +legs of my horse for safety! +</p> + +<p> +The lancer behind me gained on me every moment, and I could hear his horrid +laugh as he neared me. I leaned forward jockey-fashion in my saddle, and +kicked, and urged, and flogged with my hand, but all in vain. Closer—closer—the +point of his lance was within two feet of my back. Ah! ah! he delivered the +point, and fancy my agony when I felt it enter—through exactly fifty-nine pages +of the <i>New Monthly Magazine</i>. Had it not been for that Magazine, I should +have been impaled without a shadow of a doubt. Was I wrong in feeling +gratitude? Had I not cause to continue my contributions to that periodical? +</p> + +<p> +When I got safe into Morella, along with the tail of the sallying party, I was +for the first time made acquainted with the ridiculous result of the lancer’s +thrust (as he delivered his lance, I must tell you that a ball came whizz over +my head from our fellows, and entering at his nose, put a stop to <i>his</i> +lancing for the future). I hastened to Cabrera’s quarter, and related to him +some of my adventures during the day. +</p> + +<p> +“But, General,” said he, “you are standing. I beg you <i>chiudete l’uscio</i> +(take a chair).” +</p> + +<p> +I did so, and then for the first time was aware that there was some foreign +substance in the tail of my coat, which prevented my sitting at ease. I drew +out the Magazine which I had seized, and there, to my wonder, <i>discovered the +Christino lance</i> twisted up like a fish-hook or a pastoral crook. +</p> + +<p> +“Ha! ha! ha!” said Cabrera (who is a notorious wag). +</p> + +<p> +“Valdepeñas madrileños,” growled out Tristany. +</p> + +<p> +“By my cachuca di caballero (upon my honour as a gentleman),” shrieked out Ros +d’Eroles, convulsed with laughter, “I will send it to the Bishop of Leon for a +crozier.” +</p> + +<p> +“Gahagan has <i>consecrated</i> it,” giggled out Ramon Cabrera; and so they +went on with their muchacas for an hour or more. But, when they heard that the +means of my salvation from the lance of the scoundrelly Christino had been the +Magazine containing my own history, their laugh was changed into wonder. I read +them (speaking Spanish more fluently than English) every word of my story. “But +how is this?” said Cabrera. “You surely have other adventures to relate?” +</p> + +<p> +“Excellent sir,” said I, “I have;” and that very evening, as we sat over our +cups of tertullia (sangaree), I continued my narrative in nearly the following +words:- +</p> + +<p> +“I left off in the very middle of the battle of Delhi, which ended, as +everybody knows, in the complete triumph of the British arms. But who gained +the battle? Lord Lake is called Viscount Lake of Delhi and Laswaree, while +Major Gaha—nonsense, never mind <i>him</i>, never mind the charge he executed +when, sabre in hand, he leaped the six-foot wall in the mouth of the roaring +cannon, over the heads of the gleaming pikes; when, with one hand seizing the +sacred peishcush, or fish—which was the banner always borne before +Scindiah,—he, with his good sword, cut off the trunk of the famous white +elephant, which, shrieking with agony, plunged madly into the Mahratta ranks, +followed by his giant brethren, tossing, like chaff before the wind, the +affrighted kitmatgars. He, meanwhile, now plunging into the midst of a +battalion of consomahs, now cleaving to the chine a screaming and ferocious +bobbachee,<a href="#fn4" name="fnref4"><sup>[4]</sup></a> rushed on, like the +simoom across the red Zaharan plain, killing, with his own hand, a hundred and +forty-thr—but never mind—‘<i>alone he did it;</i>’ sufficient be it for him, +however, that the victory was won: he cares not for the empty honours which +were awarded to more fortunate men! +</p> + +<p> +“We marched after the battle to Delhi, where poor blind old Shah Allum received +us, and bestowed all kinds of honours and titles on our General. As each of the +officers passed before him, the Shah did not fail to remark my person,<a +href="#fn5" name="fnref5"><sup>[5]</sup></a> and was told my name. +</p> + +<p> +“Lord Lake whispered to him my exploits, and the old man was so delighted with +the account of my victory over the elephant (whose trunk I use to this day), +that he said, ‘Let him be called G<small>UJPUTI</small>,’ or the lord of +elephants; and Gujputi was the name by which I was afterwards familiarly known +among the natives,—the men, that is. The women had a softer appellation for me, +and called me ‘Mushook,’ or charmer. +</p> + +<p> +“Well, I shall not describe Delhi, which is doubtless well known to the reader; +nor the siege of Agra, to which place we went from Delhi; nor the terrible day +at Laswaree, which went nigh to finish the war. Suffice it to say that we were +victorious, and that I was wounded; as I have invariably been in the two +hundred and four occasions when I have found myself in action. One point, +however, became in the course of this campaign <i>quite</i> evident—<i>that +something must be doen for Gahagan</i>. The country cried shame, the King’s +troops grumbled, the sepoys openly murmured that their Gujputi was only a +lieutenant, when he had performed such signal services. What was to be done? +Lord Wellesley was in an evident quandary. ‘Gahagan,’ wrote he, ‘to be a +subaltern is evidently not your fate—<i>you were born for command;</i> but Lake +and General Wellesley are good officers, they cannot be turned out—I must make +a post for you. What say you, my dear fellow, to a corps of <i>irregular +horse?</i>’ +</p> + +<p> +“It was thus that the famous corps of A<small>HMEDNUGGAR</small> +I<small>RREGULARS</small> had its origin; a guerilla force, it is true, but one +which will long be remembered in the annals of our Indian campaigns. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +“As the commander of this regiment, I was allowed to settle the uniform of the +corps, as well as to select recruits. These were not wanting as soon as my +appointment was made known, but came flocking to my standard a great deal +faster than to the regular corps in the Company’s service. I had European +officers, of course, to command them, and a few of my countrymen as sergeants; +the rest were all natives, whom I chose of the strongest and bravest men in +India; chiefly Pitans, Afghans, Hurrumzadehs, and Calliawns: for these are well +known to be the most warlike districts of our Indian territory. +</p> + +<p> +“When on parade and in full uniform we made a singular and noble appearance. I +was always fond of dress; and, in this instance gave a <i>carte blanche</i> to +my taste, and invented the most splendid costume that ever perhaps decorated a +soldier. I am, as I have stated already, six feet four inches in height, and of +matchless symmetry and proportion. My hair and beard are of the most brilliant +auburn, so bright as scarcely to be distinguished at a distance from scarlet. +My eyes are bright blue, overshadowed by bushy eyebrows of the colour of my +hair, and a terrific gash of the deepest purple, which goes over the forehead, +the eyelid, and the cheek, and finishes at the ear, gives my face a more +strictly military appearance than can be conceived. When I have been drinking +(as is pretty often the case) this gash becomes ruby bright, and as I have +another which took off a piece of my under- lip, and shows five of my front +teeth, I leave you to imagine that ‘seldom lighted on the earth’ (as the +monster Burke remarked of one of his unhappy victims) ‘a more extraordinary +vision.’ I improved these natural advantages; and, while in cantonment during +the hot winds at Chittybobbary, allowed my hair to grow very long, as did my +beard, which reached to my waist. It took me two hours daily to curl my hair in +ten thousand little corkscrew ringlets, which waved over my shoulders, and to +get my moustaches well round to the corners of my eyelids. I dressed in loose +scarlet trousers and red morocco boots, a scarlet jacket, and a shawl of the +same colour round my waist; a scarlet turban three feet high, and decorated +with a tuft of the scarlet feathers of the flamingo, formed my head-dress, and +I did not allow myself a single ornament, except a small silver skull and +cross-bones in front of my turban. Two brace of pistols, a Malay creese, and a +tulwar, sharp on both sides, and very nearly six feet in length, completed this +elegant costume. My two flags were each surmounted with a real skull and +cross-bones, and ornamented one with a black, and the other with a red beard +(of enormous length, taken from men slain in battle by me). On one flag were of +course the arms of John Company; on the other, an image of myself bestriding a +prostrate elephant, with the simple word ‘G<small>UJPUTI</small>’ written +underneath in the Nagaree, Persian, and Sanscrit characters. I rode my black +horse, and looked, by the immortal gods, like Mars. To me might be applied the +words which were written concerning handsome General Webb, in Marlborough’s +time:- +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“‘To noble danger he conducts the way,<br/> +His great example all his troop obey,<br/> +Before the front the Major sternly rides,<br/> +With such an air as Mars to battle strides.<br/> +Propitious Heaven must sure a hero save<br/> +Like Paris handsome, and like Hector brave!’ +</p> + +<p> +“My officers (Captains Biggs and Mackanulty, Lieutenants Glogger, Pappendick, +Stuffle, &c. &c.) were dressed exactly in the same way, but in yellow; +and the men were similarly equipped, but in black. I have seen many regiments +since, and many ferocious-looking men, but the Ahmednuggar Irregulars were more +dreadful to the view than any set of ruffians on which I ever set eyes. I would +to Heaven that the Czar of Muscovy had passed through Cabool and Lahore, and +that I with my old Ahmednuggars stood on a fair field to meet him! Bless you, +bless you, my swart companions in victory! through the mist of twenty years I +hear the booming of your war-cry, and mark the glitter of your scimitars as ye +rage in the thickest of the battle!<a href="#fn6" +name="fnref6"><sup>[6]</sup></a> +</p> + +<p> +“But away with melancholy reminiscences. You may fancy what a figure the +Irregulars cut on a field-day—a line of five hundred black-faced, +black-dressed, black-horsed, black-bearded men—Biggs, Glogger, and the other +officers in yellow, galloping about the field like flashes of lightning; myself +enlightening them, red, solitary, and majestic, like yon glorious orb in +heaven. +</p> + +<p> +“There are very few men, I presume, who have not heard of Holkar’s sudden and +gallant incursion into the Dooab, in the year 1804, when we thought that the +victory of Laswaree and the brilliant success at Deeg had completely finished +him. Taking ten thousand horse he broke up his camp at Palimbang; and the first +thing General Lake heard of him was, that he was at Putna, then at Rumpooge, +then at Doncaradam—he was, in fact, in the very heart of our territory. +</p> + +<p> +“The unfortunate part of the affair was this:- His Excellency, despising the +Mahratta chieftain, had allowed him to advance about two thousand miles in his +front, and knew not in the slightest degree where to lay hold on him. Was he at +Hazarubaug? was he at Bogly Gunge? nobody knew, and for a considerable period +the movements of Lake’s cavalry were quite ambiguous, uncertain, promiscuous, +and undetermined. +</p> + +<p> +“Such, briefly, was the state of affairs in October 1804. At the beginning of +that month I had been wounded (a trifling scratch, cutting off my left upper +eyelid, a bit of my cheek, and my under- lip), and I was obliged to leave Biggs +in command of my Irregulars, whilst I retired for my wounds to an English +station at Furruckabad, <i>alias</i> Futtyghur—it is, as every twopenny postman +knows, at the apex of the Dooab. We have there a cantonment, and thither I went +for the mere sake of the surgeon and the sticking- plaster. +</p> + +<p> +“Furruckabad, then, is divided into two districts or towns: the lower Cotwal, +inhabited by the natives, and the upper (which is fortified slightly, and has +all along been called Futtyghur, meaning in Hindustanee +‘the-favourite-resort-of-the-white-faced- +Feringhees-near-the-mango-tope-consecrated-to-Ram’), occupied by Europeans. (It +is astonishing, by the way, how comprehensive that language is, and how much +can be conveyed in one or two of the commonest phrases.) +</p> + +<p> +“Biggs, then, and my men were playing all sorts of wondrous pranks with Lord +Lake’s army, whilst I was detained an unwilling prisoner of health at +Futtyghur. +</p> + +<p> +“An unwilling prisoner, however, I should not say. The cantonment at Futtyghur +contained that which would have made <i>any</i> man a happy slave. Woman, +lovely woman, was there in abundance and variety! The fact is, that, when the +campaign commenced in 1803, the ladies of the army all congregated to this +place, where they were left, as it was supposed, in safety. I might, like +Homer, relate the names and qualities of all. I may at least mention +<i>some</i> whose memory is still most dear to me. There was - +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Major-General Bulcher, wife of Bulcher of the Infantry. +</p> + +<p> +“Miss Bulcher. +</p> + +<p> +“M<small>ISS</small> B<small>ELINDA</small> B<small>ULCHER</small> (whose name +I beg the printer to place in large capitals). +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Colonel Vandegobbleschroy. +</p> + +<p> +“Mrs. Major Macan and the four Misses Macan. +</p> + +<p> +“The Honourable Mrs. Burgoo, Mrs. Flix, Hicks, Wicks, and many more too +numerous to mention. The flower of our camp was, however, collected there, and +the last words of Lord Lake to me, as I left him, were, ‘Gahagan, I commit +those women to your charge. Guard them with your life, watch over them with +your honour, defend them with the matchless power of your indomitable arm.’ +</p> + +<p> +“Futtyghur is, as I have said, a European station, and the pretty air of the +bungalows, amid the clustering topes of mango-trees, has often ere this excited +the admiration of the tourist and sketcher. On the brow of a hill—the +Burrumpooter river rolls majestically at its base; and no spot, in a word, can +be conceived more exquisitely arranged, both by art and nature, as a favourite +residence of the British fair. Mrs. Bulcher, Mrs. Vandegobbleschroy, and the +other married ladies above mentioned, had each of them delightful bungalows and +gardens in the place, and between one cottage and another my time passed as +delightfully as can the hours of any man who is away from his darling +occupation of war. +</p> + +<p> +“I was the commandant of the fort. It is a little insignificant pettah, +defended simply by a couple of gabions, a very ordinary counterscarp, and a +bomb-proof embrasure. On the top of this my flag was planted, and the small +garrison of forty men only were comfortably barracked off in the casemates +within. A surgeon and two chaplains (there were besides three reverend +gentlemen of amateur missions, who lived in the town), completed, as I may say, +the garrison of our little fortalice, which I was left to defend and to +command. +</p> + +<p> +“On the night of the first of November, in the year 1804, I had invited Mrs. +Major-General Bulcher and her daughters, Mrs. Vandegobbleschroy, and, indeed, +all the ladies in the cantonment, to a little festival in honour of the +recovery of my health, of the commencement of the shooting season, and indeed +as a farewell visit, for it was my intention to take dawk the very next morning +and return to my regiment. The three amateur missionaries whom I have +mentioned, and some ladies in the cantonment of very rigid religious +principles, refused to appear at my little party. They had better never have +been born than have done as they did: as you shall hear. +</p> + +<p> +“We had been dancing merrily all night, and the supper (chiefly of the delicate +condor, the luscious adjutant, and other birds of a similar kind, which I had +shot in the course of the day) had been duly <i>fêted</i> by every lady and +gentleman present; when I took an opportunity to retire on the ramparts, with +the interesting and lovely Belinda Bulcher. I was occupied, as the French say, +in <i>conter</i>-ing <i>fleurettes</i> to this sweet young creature, when, all +of a sudden, a rocket was seen whizzing through the air, and a strong light was +visible in the valley below the little fort. +</p> + +<p> +“‘What, fireworks! Captain Gahagan,’ said Belinda; ‘this is too gallant.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Indeed, my dear Miss Bulcher,’ said I, ‘they are fireworks of which I have no +idea: perhaps our friends the missionaries—’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘Look, look!’ said Belinda, trembling, and clutching tightly hold of my arm: +‘what do I see? yes—no—yes! it is—<i>our bungalow is in flames!</i>’ +</p> + +<p> +“It was true, the spacious bungalow occupied by Mrs. Major-General was at that +moment seen a prey to the devouring element—another and another succeeded +it—seven bungalows, before I could almost ejaculate the name of Jack Robinson, +were seen blazing brightly in the black midnight air! +</p> + +<p> +“I seized my night-glass, and looking towards the spot where the conflagration +raged, what was my astonishment to see thousands of black forms dancing round +the fires; whilst by their lights I could observe columns after columns of +Indian horse, arriving and taking up their ground in the very middle of the +open square or tank, round which the bungalows were built! +</p> + +<p> +“‘Ho, warder!’ shouted I (while the frightened and trembling Belinda clung +closer to my side, and pressed the stalwart arm that encircled her waist), +‘down with the drawbridge! see that your masolgees’ (small tumbrels which are +used in place of large artillery) ‘be well loaded: you, sepoys, hasten and man +the ravelin! you, choprasees, put out the lights in the embrasures! we shall +have warm work of it to-night, or my name is not Goliah Gahagan.’ +</p> + +<p> +“The ladies, the guests (to the number of eighty-three), the sepoys, +choprasees, masolgees, and so on, had all crowded on the platform at the sound +of my shouting, and dreadful was the consternation, shrill the screaming, +occasioned by my words. The men stood irresolute and mute with terror; the +women, trembling, knew scarcely whither to fly for refuge. ‘Who are yonder +ruffians?’ said I. A hundred voices yelped in reply—some said the Pindarees, +some said the Mahrattas, some vowed it was Scindiah, and others declared it was +Holkar—no one knew. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Is there any one here,’ said I, ‘who will venture to reconnoitre yonder +troops?’ There was a dead pause. +</p> + +<p> +“‘A thousand tomauns to the man who will bring me news of yonder army!’ again I +repeated. Still a dead silence. The fact was that Scindiah and Holkar both were +so notorious for their cruelty, that no one dared venture to face the danger. +‘Oh for fifty of my brave Ahmednuggarees!’ thought I. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Gentlemen,’ said I, ‘I see it—you are cowards—none of you dare encounter the +chance even of death. It is an encouraging prospect: know you not that the +ruffian Holkar, if it be he, will with to- morrow’s dawn beleaguer our little +fort, and throw thousands of men against our walls? know you not that, if we +are taken, there is no quarter, no hope; death for us—and worse than death for +these lovely ones assembled here?’ Here the ladies shrieked and raised a howl +as I have heard the jackals on a summer’s evening. Belinda, my dear Belinda! +flung both her arms round me, and sobbed on my shoulder (or in my +waistcoat-pocket rather, for the little witch could reach no higher). +</p> + +<p> +“‘Captain Gahagan,’ sobbed she, ‘<i>Go-Go-Goggle-iah!</i>’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘My soul’s adored!’ replied I. +</p> + +<p> +“‘Swear to me one thing.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘I swear.’ +</p> + +<p> +“‘That if—that if—the nasty, horrid, odious black Mah-ra-a-a- attahs take the +fort, you will put me out of their power.’ +</p> + +<p> +“I clasped the dear girl to my heart, and swore upon my sword that, rather than +she should incur the risk of dishonour, she should perish by my own hand. This +comforted her; and her mother, Mrs. Major-General Bulcher, and her elder +sister, who had not until now known a word of our attachment, (indeed, but for +these extraordinary circumstances, it is probable that we ourselves should +never have discovered it), were under these painful circumstances made aware of +my beloved Belinda’s partiality for me. Having communicated thus her wish of +self-destruction, I thought her example a touching and excellent one, and +proposed to all the ladies that they should follow it, and that at the entry of +the enemy into the fort, and at a signal given by me, they should one and all +make away with themselves. Fancy my disgust when, after making this +proposition, not one of the ladies chose to accede to it, and received it with +the same chilling denial that my former proposal to the garrison had met with. +</p> + +<p> +“In the midst of this hurry and confusion, as if purposely to add to it, a +trumpet was heard at the gate of the fort, and one of the sentinels came +running to me, saying that a Mahratta soldier was before the gate with a flag +of truce! +</p> + +<p> +“I went down, rightly conjecturing, as it turned out, that the party, whoever +they might be, had no artillery; and received at the point of my sword a scroll +of which the following is a translation. +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“‘<i>To Goliah Gahagan Gujputi</i>. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“‘L<small>ORD OF</small> E<small>LEPHANTS</small>, S<small>IR</small>,—I have +the honour to inform you that I arrived before this place at eight o’clock p.m. +with ten thousand cavalry under my orders. I have burned, since my arrival, +seventeen bungalows in Furruckabad and Futtyghur, and have likewise been under +the painful necessity of putting to death three clergymen (mollahs) and seven +English officers, whom I found in the village; the women have been transferred +to safe keeping in the harems of my officers and myself.<br/> + “‘As I know your courage and talents, I shall be very happy if you will +surrender the fortress, and take service as a major-general (hookahbadar) in my +army. Should my proposal not meet with your assent, I beg leave to state that +to-morrow I shall storm the fort, and on taking it, shall put to death every +male in the garrison, and every female above twenty years of age. For yourself +I shall reserve a punishment, which for novelty and exquisite torture has, I +flatter myself, hardly ever been exceeded. Awaiting the favour of a reply, I +am, Sir, +</p> + +<p class="right"> +“‘Your very obedient servant, <br/> +“‘J<small>ESWUNT</small> R<small>OW</small> H<small>OLKAR</small>. +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“‘C<small>AMP BEFORE</small> F<small>UTTYGHUR</small>: <i>September</i> 1, +1804.<br/> +“‘R. S. V. P.’ +</p> + +<p> +“The officer who had brought this precious epistle (it is astonishing how +Holkar had aped the forms of English correspondence), an enormous Pitan +soldier, with a shirt of mail, and a steel cap and cape, round which his turban +wound, was leaning against the gate on his matchlock, and whistling a national +melody. I read the letter, and saw at once there was no time to be lost. That +man, thought I, must never go back to Holkar. Were he to attack us now before +we were prepared, the fort would be his in half-an-hour. +</p> + +<p> +“Tying my white pocket-handkerchief to a stick, I flung open the gate and +advanced to the officer: he was standing, I said, on the little bridge across +the moat. I made him a low salaam, after the fashion of the country, and, as he +bent forward to return the compliment, I am sorry to say, I plunged forward, +gave him a violent blow on the head, which deprived him of all sensation, and +then dragged him within the wall, raising the drawbridge after me. +</p> + +<p> +“I bore the body into my own apartment; there, swift as thought, I stripped him +of his turban, cammerbund, peijammahs, and papooshes, and, putting them on +myself, determined to go forth and reconnoitre the enemy.” +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Here I was obliged to stop, for Cabrera, Ros d’Eroles, and the rest of the +staff, were sound asleep! What I did in my reconnaissance, and how I defended +the fort of Futtyghur, I shall have the honour of telling on another occasion. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a> +CHAPTER IV<br/> +The Indian Camp—The Sortie from the Fort</h2> + +<p class="right"> +H<small>EADQUARTERS</small>, M<small>ORELLA</small>: <i>October</i> 3, 1838 +</p> + +<p> +It is a balmy night. I hear the merry jingle of the tambourine, and the cheery +voices of the girls and peasants, as they dance beneath my casement, under the +shadow of the clustering vines. The laugh and song pass gaily round, and even +at this distance I can distinguish the elegant form of Ramon Cabrera, as he +whispers gay nothings in the ears of the Andalusian girls, or joins in the +thrilling chorus of Riego’s hymn, which is ever and anon vociferated by the +enthusiastic soldiery of Carlos Quinto. I am alone, in the most inaccessible +and most bomb-proof tower of our little fortalice; the large casements are +open—the wind, as it enters, whispers in my ear its odorous recollections of +the orange grove and the myrtle bower. My torch (a branch of the fragrant +cedar-tree) flares and flickers in the midnight breeze, and disperses its scent +and burning splinters on my scroll and the desk where I write—meet implements +for a soldier’s authorship!—it is <i>cartridge</i> paper over which my pen runs +so glibly, and a yawning barrel of gunpowder forms my rough writing-table. +Around me, below me, above me, all—all is peace! I think, as I sit here so +lonely, on my country, England! and muse over the sweet and bitter +recollections of my early days! Let me resume my narrative, at the point where +(interrupted by the authoritative summons of war) I paused on the last +occasion. +</p> + +<p> +I left off, I think—(for I am a thousand miles away from proof- sheets as I +write, and, were I not writing the simple <small>TRUTH</small>, must contradict +myself a thousand times in the course of my tale)—I think, I say, that I left +off at that period of my story, when, Holkar being before Futtyghur, and I in +command of that fortress, I had just been compelled to make away with his +messenger: and, dressed in the fallen Indian’s accoutrements, went forth to +reconnoitre the force, and, if possible, to learn the intentions of the enemy. +However much my figure might have resembled that of the Pitan, and, disguised +in his armour, might have deceived the lynx- eyed Mahrattas, into whose camp I +was about to plunge, it was evident that a single glance at my fair face and +auburn beard would have undeceived the dullest blockhead in Holkar’s army. +Seizing, then, a bottle of Burgess’s walnut catsup, I dyed my face and my +hands, and, with the simple aid of a flask of Warren’s jet, I made my hair and +beard as black as ebony. The Indian’s helmet and chain hood covered likewise a +great part of my face, and I hoped thus, with luck, impudence, and a complete +command of all the Eastern dialects and languages, from Burmah to Afghanistan, +to pass scot- free through this somewhat dangerous ordeal. +</p> + +<p> +I had not the word of the night, it is true—but I trusted to good fortune for +that, and passed boldly out of the fortress, bearing the flag of truce as +before; I had scarcely passed on a couple of hundred yards, when lo! a party of +Indian horsemen, armed like him I had just overcome, trotted towards me. One +was leading a noble white charger, and no sooner did he see me than, +dismounting from his own horse, and giving the rein to a companion, he advanced +to meet me with the charger; a second fellow likewise dismounted and followed +the first: one held the bridle of the horse, while the other (with a multitude +of salaams, aleikums, and other genuflexions) held the jewelled stirrup, and +kneeling, waited until I should mount. +</p> + +<p> +I took the hint at once: the Indian who had come up to the fort was a great +man—that was evident; I walked on with a majestic air, gathered up the velvet +reins, and sprung into the magnificent high- peaked saddle. “Buk, buk,” said I. +“It is good. In the name of the forty-nine Imaums, let us ride on.” And the +whole party set off at a brisk trot, I keeping silence, and thinking with no +little trepidation of what I was about to encounter. +</p> + +<p> +As we rode along, I heard two of the men commenting upon my unusual silence +(for I suppose, I—that is the Indian—was a talkative officer). “The lips of the +Bahawder are closed,” said one. “Where are those birds of Paradise, his +long-tailed words? they are imprisoned between the golden bars of his teeth!” +</p> + +<p> +“Kush,” said his companion, “be quiet! Bobbachy Bahawder has seen the dreadful +Feringhee, Gahagan Khan Gujputi, the elephant-lord, whose sword reaps the +harvest of death; there is but one champion who can wear the papooshes of the +elephant-slayer—it is Bobbachy Bahawder!” +</p> + +<p> +“You speak truly, Puneeree Muckun, the Bahawder ruminates on the words of the +unbeliever: he is an ostrich, and hatches the eggs of his thoughts.” +</p> + +<p> +“Bekhusm! on my nose be it! May the young birds, his actions, be strong and +swift in flight.” +</p> + +<p> +“May they <i>digest iron!</i>” said Puneeree Muckun, who was evidently a wag in +his way. +</p> + +<p> +“O—ho!” thought I, as suddenly the light flashed upon me. “It was, then, the +famous Bobbachy Bahawder whom I overcame just now! and he is the man destined +to stand in <i>my</i> slippers, is he?” and I was at that very moment standing +in his own! Such are the chances and changes that fall to the lot of the +soldier! +</p> + +<p> +I suppose everybody—everybody who has been in India, at least—has heard the +name of Bobbachy Bahawder: it is derived from the two Hindustanee +words—<i>bobbachy</i>, general; <i>bahawder</i>, artilleryman. He had entered +into Holkar’s service in the latter capacity, and had, by his merit and his +undaunted bravery in action, attained the dignity of the peacock’s feather, +which is only granted to noblemen of the first class; he was married, moreover, +to one of Holkar’s innumerable daughters; a match which, according to the +<i>Chronique Scandaleuse</i>, brought more of honour than of pleasure to the +poor Bobbachy. Gallant as he was in the field, it was said that in the harem he +was the veriest craven alive, completely subjugated by his ugly and odious +wife. In all matters of importance the late Bahawder had been consulted by his +prince, who had, as it appears (knowing my character, and not caring to do +anything rash in his attack upon so formidable an enemy), sent forward the +unfortunate Pitan to reconnoitre the fort; he was to have done yet more, as I +learned from the attendant Puneeree Muckun, who was, I soon found out, an old +favourite with the Bobbachy—doubtless on account of his honesty and love of +repartee. +</p> + +<p> +“The Bahawder’s lips are closed,” said he, at last, trotting up to me; “has he +not a word for old Puneeree Muckun?” +</p> + +<p> +“Bismillah, mashallah, barikallah,” said I; which means, “My good friend, what +I have seen is not worth the trouble of relation, and fills my bosom with the +darkest forebodings.” +</p> + +<p> +“You could not then see the Gujputi alone, and stab him with your dagger?” +</p> + +<p> +[Here was a pretty conspiracy!] “No, I saw him, but not alone; his people were +always with him.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hurrumzadeh! it is a pity; we waited but the sound of your jogree (whistle), +and straightway would have galloped up and seized upon every man, woman, and +child in the fort: however, there are but a dozen men in the garrison, and they +have not provision for two days—they must yield; and then hurrah for the +moon-faces! Mashallah! I am told the soldiers who first get in are to have +their pick. How my old woman, Rotee Muckun, will be surprised when I bring home +a couple of Feringhee wives,—ha! ha!” +</p> + +<p> +“Fool!” said I, “be still!—twelve men in the garrison there are twelve hundred! +Gahagan himself is as good as a thousand men; and as for food, I saw with my +own eyes five hundred bullocks grazing in the courtyard as I entered.” This +<i>was</i> a bouncer, I confess; but my object was to deceive Puneeree Muckun, +and give him as high a notion as possible of the capabilities of defence which +the besieged had. +</p> + +<p> +“Pooch, pooch,” murmured the men; “it is a wonder of a fortress: we shall never +be able to take it until our guns come up.” +</p> + +<p> +There was hope then! they had no battering-train. Ere this arrived I trusted +that Lord Lake would hear of our plight, and march down to rescue us. Thus +occupied in thought and conversation, we rode on until the advanced sentinel +challenged us, when old Puneeree gave the word, and we passed on into the +centre of Holkar’s camp. +</p> + +<p> +It was a strange—a stirring sight! The camp-fires were lighted; and round +them—eating, reposing, talking, looking at the merry steps of the +dancing-girls, or listening to the stories of some Dhol Baut (or Indian +improvisatore)—were thousands of dusky soldiery. The camels and horses were +picketed under the banyan- trees, on which the ripe mango fruit was growing, +and offered them an excellent food. Towards the spot which the golden fish and +royal purdahs, floating in the wind, designated as the tent of Holkar, led an +immense avenue—of elephants! the finest street, indeed, I ever saw. Each of the +monstrous animals had a castle on its back, armed with Mauritanian archers and +the celebrated Persian matchlock-men: it was the feeding time of these royal +brutes, and the grooms were observed bringing immense toffungs, or baskets, +filled with pine-apples, plantains, bananas, Indian corn, and cocoa-nuts, which +grow luxuriantly at all seasons of the year. We passed down this extraordinary +avenue—no less than three hundred and eighty-eight tails did I count on each +side—each tail appertaining to an elephant twenty-five feet high—each elephant +having a two-storied castle on its back—each castle containing sleeping and +eating rooms for the twelve men that formed its garrison, and were keeping +watch on the roof—each roof bearing a flagstaff twenty feet long on its top, +the crescent glittering with a thousand gems, and round it the imperial +standard,—each standard of silk velvet and cloth-of-gold, bearing the +well-known device of Holkar, argent an or gules, between a sinople of the +first, a chevron truncated, wavy. I took nine of these myself in the course of +a very short time after, and shall be happy, when I come to England, to show +them to any gentleman who has a curiosity that way. Through this gorgeous scene +our little cavalcade passed, and at last we arrived at the quarters occupied by +Holkar. +</p> + +<p> +That celebrated chieftain’s tents and followers were gathered round one of the +British bungalows which had escaped the flames, and which he occupied during +the siege. When I entered the large room where he sat, I found him in the midst +of a council of war; his chief generals and viziers seated round him, each +smoking his hookah, as is the common way with these black fellows, before, at, +and after breakfast, dinner, supper, and bedtime. There was such a cloud raised +by their smoke you could hardly see a yard before you- -another piece of +good-luck for me—as it diminished the chances of my detection. When, with the +ordinary ceremonies, the kitmatgars and consomahs had explained to the prince +that Bobbachy Bahawder, the right eye of the Sun of the Universe (as the +ignorant heathens called me), had arrived from his mission, Holkar immediately +summoned me to the maidaun, or elevated platform, on which he was seated in a +luxurious easy-chair, and I, instantly taking off my slippers, falling on my +knees, and beating my head against the ground ninety-nine times, proceeded, +still on my knees, a hundred and twenty feet through the room, and then up the +twenty steps which led to his maidaun—a silly, painful, and disgusting +ceremony, which can only be considered as a relic of barbarian darkness, which +tears the knees and shins to pieces, let alone the pantaloons. I recommend +anybody who goes to India, with the prospect of entering the service of the +native rajahs, to recollect my advice, and have them <i>well wadded</i>. +</p> + +<p> +Well, the right eye of the Sun of the Universe scrambled as well as he could up +the steps of the maidaun (on which, in rows, smoking, as I have said, the +musnuds or general officers were seated), and I arrived within speaking +distance of Holkar, who instantly asked me the success of my mission. The +impetuous old man thereon poured out a multitude of questions: “How many men +are there in the fort?” said he; “how many women? Is it victualled? have they +ammunition? Did you see Gahagan Sahib, the commander? did you kill him?” +</p> + +<p> +All these questions Jeswunt Row Holkar puffed out with so many whiffs of +tobacco. +</p> + +<p> +Taking a chillum myself, and raising about me such a cloud that, upon my honour +as a gentleman, no man at three yards’ distance could perceive anything of me +except the pillar of smoke in which I was encompassed, I told Holkar, in +Oriental language of course, the best tale I could with regard to the fort. +</p> + +<p> +“Sir,” said I, “to answer your last question first—that dreadful Gujputi I have +seen—and he is alive: he is eight feet, nearly, in height; he can eat a bullock +daily (of which he has seven hundred at present in the compound, and swears +that during the siege he will content himself with only three a week): he has +lost, in battle, his left eye; and what is the consequence? O Ram Gunge” (O +thou-with-the-eye-as-bright-as-morning and-with-beard-as-black-as- night), +“Goliah Gujputi—<small>NEVER SLEEPS</small>!” +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, you Ghorumsaug (you thief of the world),” said the Prince Vizier, Saadut +Alee Beg Bimbukchee—“it’s joking you are;”—and there was a universal buzz +through the room at the announcement of this bouncer. +</p> + +<p> +“By the hundred and eleven incarnations of Vishnu,” said I, solemnly (an oath +which no Indian was ever known to break), “I swear that so it is: so at least +he told me, and I have good cause to know his power. Gujputi is an enchanter: +he is leagued with devils; he is invulnerable. Look,” said I, unsheathing my +dagger— and every eye turned instantly towards me—“thrice did I stab him with +this steel—in the back, once—twice right through the heart; but he only laughed +me to scorn, and bade me tell Holkar that the steel was not yet forged which +was to inflict an injury upon him.” +</p> + +<p> +I never saw a man in such a rage as Holkar was when I gave him this somewhat +imprudent message. +</p> + +<p> +“Ah, lily-livered rogue!” shouted he out to me, “milk-blooded unbeliever! +pale-faced miscreant! lives he after insulting thy master in thy presence? In +the name of the Prophet, I spit on thee, defy thee, abhor thee, degrade thee! +Take that, thou liar of the universe! and that—and that—and that!” +</p> + +<p> +Such are the frightful excesses of barbaric minds! every time this old man +said, “Take that,” he flung some article near him at the head of the undaunted +Gahagan—his dagger, his sword, his carbine, his richly ornamented pistols, his +turban covered with jewels, worth a hundred thousand crores of rupees—finally, +his hookah, snake mouthpiece, silver-bell, chillum and all—which went hissing +over my head, and flattening into a jelly the nose of the Grand Vizier. +</p> + +<p> +“Yock muzzee! my nose is off,” said the old man, mildly. “Will you have my +life, O Holkar? it is thine likewise!” and no other word of complaint escaped +his lips. +</p> + +<p> +Of all these missiles, though a pistol and carbine had gone off as the +ferocious Indian flung them at my head, and the naked scimitar, fiercely but +unadroitly thrown, had lopped off the limbs of one or two of the musnuds as +they sat trembling on their omrahs, yet, strange to say, not a single weapon +had hurt me. When the hubbub ceased, and the unlucky wretches who had been the +victims of this fit of rage had been removed, Holkar’s good-humour somewhat +returned, and he allowed me to continue my account of the fort; which I did, +not taking the slightest notice of his burst of impatience: as indeed it would +have been the height of impoliteness to have done, for such accidents happened +many times in the day. +</p> + +<p> +“It is well that the Bobbachy has returned,” snuffled out the poor Grand +Vizier, after I had explained to the Council the extraordinary means of defence +possessed by the garrison. +</p> + +<p> +“Your star is bright, O Bahawder! for this very night we had resolved upon an +escalade of the fort, and we had sworn to put every one of the infidel garrison +to the edge of the sword.” +</p> + +<p> +“But you have no battering train,” said I. +</p> + +<p> +“Bah! we have a couple of ninety-six pounders, quite sufficient to blow the +gates open; and then, hey for a charge!” said Loll Mahommed, a general of +cavalry, who was a rival of Bobbachy’s, and contradicted, therefore, every word +I said. “In the name of Juggernaut, why wait for the heavy artillery? Have we +not swords? Have we not hearts? Mashallah! Let cravens stay with Bobbachy, all +true men will follow Loll Mahommed! Allahhumdillah, Bismillah, Barikallah?”<a +href="#fn7" name="fnref7"><sup>[7]</sup></a> and drawing his scimitar, he waved +it over his head, and shouted out his cry of battle. It was repeated by many of +the other omrahs; the sound of their cheers was carried into the camp, and +caught up by the men; the camels began to cry, the horses to prance and neigh, +the eight hundred elephants set up a scream, the trumpeters and drummers +clanged away at their instruments. I never heard such a din before or after. +How I trembled for my little garrison when I heard the enthusiastic cries of +this innumerable host! +</p> + +<p> +There was but one way for it. “Sir,” said I, addressing Holkar, “go out +to-night, and you go to certain death. Loll Mahommed has not seen the fort as I +have. Pass the gate if you please, and for what? to fall before the fire of a +hundred pieces of artillery; to storm another gate, and then another, and then +to be blown up, with Gahagan’s garrison in the citadel. Who talks of courage? +Were I not in your august presence, O star of the faithful, I would crop Loll +Mahommed’s nose from his face, and wear his ears as an ornament in my own +pugree! Who is there here that knows not the difference between yonder +yellow-skinned coward and Gahagan Khan Guj—I mean Bobbachy Bahawder? I am ready +to fight one, two, three, or twenty of them, at broad-sword, small-sword, +single- stick, with fists if you please. By the holy piper, fighting is like +mate and dthrink to Ga—-to Bobbachy, I mane—whoop! come on, you divvle, and +I’ll bate the skin off your ugly bones.” +</p> + +<p> +This speech had very nearly proved fatal to me, for, when I am agitated, I +involuntarily adopt some of the phraseology peculiar to my own country; which +is so un-eastern, that, had there been any suspicion as to my real character, +detection must indubitably have ensued. As it was, Holkar perceived nothing, +but instantaneously stopped the dispute. Loll Mahommed, however, evidently +suspected something; for, as Holkar, with a voice of thunder, shouted out; +“Tomasha (silence),” Loll sprang forward and gasped out - +</p> + +<p> +“My lord! my lord! this is not Bob—” +</p> + +<p> +But he could say no more. “Gag the slave!” screamed out Holkar, stamping with +fury; and a turban was instantly twisted round the poor devil’s jaws. “Ho, +furoshes! carry out Loll Mahommed Khan, give him a hundred dozen on the soles +of his feet, set him upon a white donkey, and carry him round the camp, with an +inscription before him: ‘This is the way that Holkar rewards the talkative.’” +</p> + +<p> +I breathed again; and ever as I heard each whack of the bamboo falling on Loll +Mahommed’s feet, I felt peace returning to my mind, and thanked my stars that I +was delivered of this danger. +</p> + +<p> +“Vizier,” said Holkar, who enjoyed Loll’s roars amazingly, “I owe you a +reparation for your nose: kiss the hand of your prince, O Saadut Alee Beg +Bimbukchee! be from this day forth Zoheir u Dowlut!” +</p> + +<p> +The good old man’s eyes filled with tears. “I can bear thy severity, O Prince,” +said he; “I cannot bear thy love. Was it not an honour that your Highness did +me just now when you condescended to pass over the bridge of your slave’s +nose?” +</p> + +<p> +The phrase was by all voices pronounced to be very poetical. The Vizier +retired, crowned with his new honours, to bed. Holkar was in high good-humour. +</p> + +<p> +“Bobbachy,” said he, “thou, too, must pardon me. <i>A propos</i>, I have news +for thee. Your wife, the incomparable Puttee Rooge” (white and red rose), “has +arrived in camp.” +</p> + +<p> +“My WIFE, my lord!” said I, aghast. +</p> + +<p> +“Our daughter, the light of thine eyes! Go, my son; I see thou art wild with +joy. The Princess’s tents are set up close by mine, and I know thou longest to +join her.” +</p> + +<p> +My wife? Here was a complication truly! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a> +CHAPTER V<br/> +The Issue of my Interview with my Wife</h2> + +<p> +I found Puneeree Muckun, with the rest of my attendants, waiting at the gate, +and they immediately conducted me to my own tents in the neighbourhood. I have +been in many dangerous predicaments before that time and since, but I don’t +care to deny that I felt in the present instance such a throbbing of the heart +as I never have experienced when leading a forlorn hope, or marching up to a +battery. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as I entered the tents a host of menials sprang forward, some to ease +me of my armour, some to offer me refreshments, some with hookahs, attar of +roses (in great quart bottles), and the thousand delicacies of Eastern life. I +motioned them away. “I will wear my armour,” said I; “I shall go forth +to-night. Carry my duty to the princess, and say I grieve that to-night I have +not the time to see her. Spread me a couch here, and bring me supper here: a +jar of Persian wine well cooled, a lamb stuffed with pistachio- nuts, a pillaw +of a couple of turkeys, a curried kid—anything. Begone! Give me a pipe; leave +me alone, and tell me when the meal is ready.” +</p> + +<p> +I thought by these means to put off the fair Puttee Rooge, and hoped to be able +to escape without subjecting myself to the examination of her curious eyes. +After smoking for a while, an attendant came to tell me that my supper was +prepared in the inner apartment of the tent (I suppose that the reader, if he +be possessed of the commonest intelligence, knows that the tents of the Indian +grandees are made of the finest Cashmere Shawls, and contain a dozen rooms at +least, with carpets, chimneys, and sash- windows complete). I entered, I say, +into an inner chamber, and there began with my fingers to devour my meal in the +Oriental fashion, taking, every now and then, a pull from the wine-jar, which +was cooling deliciously in another jar of snow. +</p> + +<p> +I was just in the act of despatching the last morsel of a most savoury stewed +lamb and rice, which had formed my meal, when I heard a scuffle of feet, a +shrill clatter of female voices, and, the curtain being flung open, in marched +a lady accompanied by twelve slaves, with moon faces and slim waists, lovely as +the houris in Paradise. +</p> + +<p> +The lady herself, to do her justice, was as great a contrast to her attendants +as could possibly be: she was crooked, old, of the complexion of molasses, and +rendered a thousand times more ugly by the tawdry dress and the blazing jewels +with which she was covered. A line of yellow chalk drawn from her forehead to +the tip of her nose (which was further ornamented by an immense glittering +nose- ring), her eyelids painted bright red, and a large dab of the same colour +on her chin, showed she was not of the Mussulman, but the Brahmin faith—and of +a very high caste: you could see that by her eyes. My mind was instantaneously +made up as to my line of action. +</p> + +<p> +The male attendants had of course quitted the apartment, as they heard the +well-known sound of her voice. It would have been death to them to have +remained and looked in her face. The females ranged themselves round their +mistress, as she squatted down opposite to me. +</p> + +<p> +“And is this,” said she, “a welcome, O Khan! after six months’ absence, for the +most unfortunate and loving wife in all the world? Is this lamb, O glutton! +half so tender as thy spouse? Is this wine, O sot! half so sweet as her looks?” +</p> + +<p> +I saw the storm was brewing—her slaves, to whom she turned, kept up a kind of +chorus:- +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, the faithless one!” cried they. “Oh, the rascal, the false one, who has no +eye for beauty, and no heart for love, like the Khanum’s!” +</p> + +<p> +“A lamb is not so sweet as love,” said I gravely; “but a lamb has a good +temper: a wine-cup is not so intoxicating as a woman—but a wine-cup has <i>no +tongue</i>, O Khanum Gee!” and again I dipped my nose in the soul-refreshing +jar. +</p> + +<p> +The sweet Puttee Rooge was not, however, to be put off by my repartees; she and +her maidens recommenced their chorus, and chattered and stormed until I lost +all patience. +</p> + +<p> +“Retire, friends,” said I, “and leave me in peace.” +</p> + +<p> +“Stir, on your peril!” cried the Khanum. +</p> + +<p> +So, seeing there was no help for it but violence, I drew out my pistols, cocked +them, and said, “O houris! these pistols contain each two balls: the daughter +of Holkar bears a sacred life for me- -but for you!—by all the saints of +Hindustan, four of ye shall die if ye stay a moment longer in my presence!” +This was enough; the ladies gave a shriek, and skurried out of the apartment +like a covey of partridges on the wing. +</p> + +<p> +Now, then, was the time for action. My wife, or rather Bobbachy’s wife, sat +still, a little flurried by the unusual ferocity which her lord had displayed +in her presence. I seized her hand and, gripping it close, whispered in her +ear, to which I put the other pistol:- “O Khanum, listen and scream not; the +moment you scream, you die!” She was completely beaten: she turned as pale as a +woman could in her situation, and said, “Speak, Bobbachy Bahawder, I am dumb.” +</p> + +<p> +“Woman,” said I, taking off my helmet, and removing the chain cape which had +covered almost the whole of my face—“<i>I am not thy husband</i>—I am the +slayer of elephants, the world-renowned G<small>AHAGAN</small>!” +</p> + +<p> +As I said this, and as the long ringlets of red hair fell over my shoulders +(contrasting strangely with my dyed face and beard), I formed one of the finest +pictures that can possibly be conceived, and I recommend it as a subject to Mr. +Heath, for the next “Book of Beauty.” +</p> + +<p> +“Wretch!” said she, “what wouldst thou?” +</p> + +<p> +“You black-faced fiend,” said I, “raise but your voice, and you are dead!” +</p> + +<p> +“And afterwards,” said she, “do you suppose that <i>you</i> can escape? The +torments of hell are not so terrible as the tortures that Holkar will invent +for thee.” +</p> + +<p> +“Tortures, madam?” answered I, coolly. “Fiddlesticks! You will neither betray +me, nor will I be put to the torture: on the contrary, you will give me your +best jewels and facilitate my escape to the fort. Don’t grind your teeth and +swear at me. Listen, madam: you know this dress and these arms;—they are the +arms of your husband, Bobbachy Bahawder—<i>my prisoner</i>. He now lies in +yonder fort, and if I do not return before daylight, at <i>sunrise he dies:</i> +and then, when they send his corpse back to Holkar, what will you, <i>his +widow</i>, do? +</p> + +<p> +“Oh!” said she, shuddering, “spare me, spare me!” +</p> + +<p> +“I’ll tell you what you will do. You will have the pleasure of dying along with +him—of <i>being roasted</i>, madam: an agonising death, from which your father +cannot save you, to which he will be the first man to condemn and conduct you. +Ha! I see we understand each other, and you will give me over the cash-box and +jewels.” And so saying I threw myself back with the calmest air imaginable, +flinging the pistols over to her. “Light me a pipe, my love,” said I, “and then +go and hand me over the dollars: do you hear?” You see I had her in my power—up +a tree, as the Americans say, and she very humbly lighted my pipe for me, and +then departed for the goods I spoke about. +</p> + +<p> +What a thing is luck! If Loll Mahommed had not been made to take that ride +round the camp, I should infallibly have been lost. +</p> + +<p> +My supper, my quarrel with the princess, and my pipe afterwards, had occupied a +couple of hours of my time. The princess returned from her quest, and brought +with her the box, containing valuables to the amount of about three millions +sterling. (I was cheated of them afterwards, but have the box still, a plain +deal one.) I was just about to take my departure, when a tremendous knocking, +shouting, and screaming was heard at the entrance of the tent. It was Holkar +himself, accompanied by that cursed Loll Mahommed, who, after his punishment, +found his master restored to good-humour, and had communicated to him his firm +conviction that I was an impostor. +</p> + +<p> +“Ho, Begum!” shouted he, in the ante-room (for he and his people could not +enter the women’s apartments), “speak, O my daughter! is your husband +returned?” +</p> + +<p> +“Speak, madam,” said I, “or <i>remember the roasting</i>.” +</p> + +<p> +“He is, Papa,” said the Begum. +</p> + +<p> +“Are you sure? Ho! ho! ho!” (the old ruffian was laughing outside)—“are you +sure it is?—Ha! aha!—<i>he-e-e!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +“Indeed it is he, and no other. I pray you, father, to go, and to pass no more +such shameless jests on your daughter. Have I ever seen the face of any other +man?” And hereat she began to weep as if her heart would break—the deceitful +minx! +</p> + +<p> +Holkar’s laugh was instantly turned to fury. “Oh, you liar and eternal thief!” +said he, turning round (as I presume, for I could only hear) to Loll Mahommed, +“to make your prince eat such monstrous dirt as this! Furoshes, seize this man. +I dismiss him from my service, I degrade him from his rank, I appropriate to +myself all his property: and hark ye, furoshes, <small>GIVE HIM A HUNDRED DOZEN +MORE</small>!” +</p> + +<p> +Again I heard the whacks of the bamboos, and peace flowed into my soul. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Just as morn began to break, two figures were seen to approach the little +fortress of Futtyghur: one was a woman wrapped closely in a veil; the other a +warrior, remarkable for the size and manly beauty of his form, who carried in +his hand a deal box of considerable size. The warrior at the gate gave the word +and was admitted; the woman returned slowly to the Indian camp. Her name was +Puttee Rooge; his was - +</p> + +<p class="right"> +G. O’G. G., M.H.E.I.C.S.. C.I.H.A. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a> +CHAPTER VI<br/> +Famine in the Garrison</h2> + +<p> +Thus my dangers for the night being overcome, I hastened with my precious box +into my own apartment, which communicated with another, where I had left my +prisoner, with a guard to report if he should recover, and to prevent his +escape. My servant, Ghorumsaug, was one of the guard. I called him, and the +fellow came, looking very much confused and frightened, as it seemed, at my +appearance. +</p> + +<p> +“Why, Ghorumsaug,” said I, “what makes thee look so pale, fellow?” (He was as +white as a sheet.) “It is thy master, dost thou not remember him?” The man had +seen me dress myself in the Pitan’s clothes, but was not present when I had +blacked my face and beard in the manner I have described. +</p> + +<p> +“O Bramah, Vishnu, and Mahomet!” cried the faithful fellow, “and do I see my +dear master disguised in this way? For Heaven’s sake let me rid you of this +odious black paint; for what will the ladies say in the ballroom, if the +beautiful Feringhee should appear amongst them with his roses turned into +coal?” +</p> + +<p> +I am still one of the finest men in Europe, and at the time of which I write, +when only two-and-twenty, I confess I <i>was</i> a little vain of my personal +appearance, and not very willing to appear before my dear Belinda disguised +like a blackamoor. I allowed Ghorumsaug to divest me of the heathenish armour +and habiliments which I wore; and having, with a world of scrubbing and +trouble, divested my face and beard of their black tinge, I put on my own +becoming uniform, and hastened to wait on the ladies; hastened, I say,—although +delayed would have been the better word, for the operation of bleaching lasted +at least two hours. +</p> + +<p> +“How is the prisoner, Ghorumsaug?” said I, before leaving my apartment. +</p> + +<p> +“He has recovered from the blow which the Lion dealt him; two men and myself +watch over him; and Macgillicuddy Sahib (the second in command) has just been +the rounds, and has seen that all was secure.” +</p> + +<p> +I bade Ghorumsaug help me to put away my chest of treasure (my exultation in +taking it was so great that I could not help informing him of its contents); +and this done, I despatched him to his post near the prisoner, while I prepared +to sally forth and pay my respects to the fair creatures under my protection. +“What good after all have I done,” thought I to myself, “in this expedition +which I had so rashly undertaken?” I had seen the renowned Holkar; I had been +in the heart of his camp; I knew the disposition of his troops, that there were +eleven thousand of them, and that he only waited for his guns to make a regular +attack on the fort. I had seen Puttee Rooge; I had robbed her (I say +<i>robbed</i> her, and I don’t care what the reader or any other man may think +of the act) of a deal box, containing jewels to the amount of three millions +sterling, the property of herself and husband. +</p> + +<p> +Three millions in money and jewels! And what the deuce were money and jewels to +me or to my poor garrison? Could my adorable Miss Bulcher eat a fricassee of +diamonds, or, Cleopatra-like, melt down pearls to her tea? Could I, careless as +I am about food, with a stomach that would digest anything—(once, in Spain, I +ate the leg of a horse during a famine, and was so eager to swallow this morsel +that I bolted the shoe, as well as the hoof, and never felt the slightest +inconvenience from either)—could I, I say, expect to live long and well upon a +ragout of rupees, or a dish of stewed emeralds and rubies? With all the wealth +of Croesus before me I felt melancholy; and would have paid cheerfully its +weight in carats for a good honest round of boiled beef. Wealth, wealth, what +art thou? What is gold?—Soft metal. What are diamonds?— Shining tinsel. The +great wealth-winners, the only fame-achievers, the sole objects worthy of a +soldier’s consideration, are beefsteaks, gunpowder, and cold iron. +</p> + +<p> +The two latter means of competency we possessed; I had in my own apartments a +small store of gunpowder (keeping it under my own bed, with a candle burning +for fear of accidents); I had 14 pieces of artillery (4 long 48’s and 4 +carronades, 5 howitzers, and a long brass mortar, for grape, which I had taken +myself at the battle of Assaye), and muskets for ten times my force. My +garrison, as I have told the reader in a previous number, consisted of 40 men, +two chaplains, and a surgeon; add to these my guests, 83 in number, of whom +nine only were gentlemen (in tights, powder, pigtails, and silk stockings, who +had come out merely for a dance, and found themselves in for a siege). Such +were our numbers:- +</p> + +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Troops and artillerymen 40 +Ladies 74 +Other non-combatants 11 +MAJOR-GENERAL O’G.GAHAGAN 1,000 + 1,125 +</pre> + +<p> +I count myself good for a thousand, for so I was regularly rated in the army: +with this great benefit to it, that I only consumed as much as an ordinary +mortal. We were then, as far as the victuals went, 126 mouths; as combatants we +numbered 1,040 gallant men, with 12 guns and a fort, against Holkar and his +12,000. No such alarming odds, if - +</p> + +<p> +<i>If!</i>—ay, there was the rub—<i>if</i> we had <i>shot</i>, as well as +powder for our guns; <i>if</i> we had not only <i>men</i> but <i>meat</i>. Of +the former commodity we had only three rounds for each piece. Of the latter, +upon my sacred honour, to feed 126 souls, we had but +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +Two drumsticks of fowls, and a bone of ham.<br/> +Fourteen bottles of ginger-beer.<br/> +Of soda-water, four ditto.<br/> +Two bottles of fine Spanish olives.<br/> +Raspberry cream—the remainder of two dishes.<br/> +Seven macaroons, lying in the puddle of a demolished trifle.<br/> +Half a drum of best Turkey figs.<br/> +Some bits of broken bread; two Dutch cheeses (whole); the crust of an old +Stilton; and about an ounce of almonds and raisins.<br/> +Three ham-sandwiches, and a pot of currant-jelly, and 197 bottles of brandy, +rum, madeira, pale ale (my private stock); a couple of hard eggs for a salad, +and a flask of Florence oil. +</p> + +<p> +This was the provision for the whole garrison! The men after supper had seized +upon the relics of the repast, as they were carried off from the table; and +these were the miserable remnants I found and counted on my return; taking good +care to lock the door of the supper-room, and treasure what little sustenance +still remained in it. +</p> + +<p> +When I appeared in the saloon, now lighted up by the morning sun, I not only +caused a sensation myself, but felt one in my own bosom which was of the most +painful description. Oh, my reader! may you never behold such a sight as that +which presented itself: eighty-three men and women in ball-dresses; the former +with their lank powdered locks streaming over their faces; the latter with +faded flowers, uncurled wigs, smudged rouge, blear eyes, draggling feathers, +rumpled satins—each more desperately melancholy and hideous than the +other—each, except my beloved Belinda Bulcher, whose raven ringlets never +having been in curl could of course never go <i>out</i> of curl; whose cheek, +pale as the lily, could, as it may naturally be supposed, grow no paler; whose +neck and beauteous arms, dazzling as alabaster, needed no pearl-powder, and +therefore, as I need not state, did not suffer because the pearl-powder had +come off. Joy (deft link-boy!) lit his lamps in each of her eyes as I entered. +As if I had been her sun, her spring, lo! blushing roses mantled in her cheek! +Seventy-three ladies, as I entered, opened their fire upon me, and stunned me +with cross-questions, regarding my adventures in the camp—<i>she</i>, as she +saw me, gave a faint scream (the sweetest, sure, that ever gurgled through the +throat of a woman!) then started up—then made as if she would sit down—then +moved backwards—then tottered forwards—then tumbled into my—Psha! why recall, +why attempt to describe that delicious—that passionate greeting of two young +hearts? What was the surrounding crowd to <i>us?</i> What cared we for the +sneers of the men, the titters of the jealous women, the shrill “Upon my word!” +of the elder Miss Bulcher, and the loud expostulations of Belinda’s mamma? The +brave girl loved me, and wept in my arms. “Goliah! my Goliah!” said she, “my +brave, my beautiful, <i>thou</i> art returned, and hope comes back with thee. +Oh! who can tell the anguish of my soul, during this dreadful dreadful night!” +Other similar ejaculations of love and joy she uttered; and if I <i>had</i> +perilled life in her service, if I <i>did</i> believe that hope of escape there +was none, so exquisite was the moment of our meeting, that I forgot all else in +this overwhelming joy! +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +[The Major’s description of this meeting, which lasted at the very most not ten +seconds, occupies thirteen pages of writing. We have been compelled to dock off +twelve-and-a-half; for the whole passage, though highly creditable to his +feelings, might possibly be tedious to the reader.] +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +As I said, the ladies and gentlemen were inclined to sneer, and were giggling +audibly. I led the dear girl to a chair, and, scowling round with a tremendous +fierceness, which those who know me know I can sometimes put on, I shouted out, +“Hark ye! men and women—I am this lady’s truest knight—her husband I hope one +day to be. I am commander, too, in this fort—the enemy is without it; another +word of mockery—another glance of scorn—and, by Heaven, I will hurl every man +and woman from the battlements, a prey to the ruffianly Holkar!” This quieted +them. I am a man of my word, and none of them stirred or looked disrespectfully +from that moment. +</p> + +<p> +It was now <i>my</i> turn to make <i>them</i> look foolish. Mrs. +Vandegobbleschroy (whose unfailing appetite is pretty well known to every +person who has been in India) cried, “Well, Captain Gahagan, your ball has been +so pleasant, and the supper was despatched so long ago, that myself and the +ladies would be very glad of a little breakfast.” And Mrs. Van giggled as if +she had made a very witty and reasonable speech. “Oh! breakfast, breakfast, by +all means,” said the rest; “we really are dying for a warm cup of tea.” +</p> + +<p> +“Is it bohay tay or souchong tay that you’d like, ladies?” says I. +</p> + +<p> +“Nonsense, you silly man; any tea you like,” said fat Mrs. Van. +</p> + +<p> +“What do you say, then, to some prime <i>gunpowder?</i>” Of course they said it +was the very thing. +</p> + +<p> +“And do you like hot rowls or cowld—muffins or crumpets—fresh butter or salt? +And you, gentlemen, what do you say to some ilegant divvled-kidneys for +yourselves, and just a trifle of grilled turkeys, and a couple of hundthred +new-laid eggs for the ladies?” +</p> + +<p> +“Pooh, pooh! be it as you will, my dear fellow,” answered they all. +</p> + +<p> +“But stop,” says I. “O ladies, O ladies! O gentlemen, gentlemen! that you +should ever have come to the quarters of Goliah Gahagan, and he been without—” +</p> + +<p> +“What?” said they, in a breath. +</p> + +<p> +“Alas! alas! I have not got a single stick of chocolate in the whole house.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well, well, we can do without it.” +</p> + +<p> +“Or a single pound of coffee.” +</p> + +<p> +“Never mind; let that pass too.” (Mrs. Van and the rest were beginning to look +alarmed.) +</p> + +<p> +“And about the kidneys—now I remember, the black divvles outside the fort have +seized upon all the sheep; and how are we to have kidneys without them?” (Here +there was a slight o-o-o!) +</p> + +<p> +“And with regard to the milk and crame, it may be remarked that the cows are +likewise in pawn, and not a single drop can be had for money or love: but we +can beat up eggs, you know, in the tay, which will be just as good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh! just as good.” +</p> + +<p> +“Only the divvle’s in the luck, there’s not a fresh egg to be had— no, nor a +fresh chicken,” continued I, “nor a stale one either; not a tayspoonful of +souchong, nor a thimbleful of bohay; nor the laste taste in life of butther, +salt or fresh; nor hot rowls or cowld!” +</p> + +<p> +“In the name of Heaven!” said Mrs. Van, growing very pale, “what is there, +then?” +</p> + +<p> +“Ladies and gentlemen, I’ll tell you what there is now,” shouted I. “There’s +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Two drumsticks of fowls, and a bone of ham.<br/> +Fourteen bottles of ginger-beer,” &c. &c. &c. +</p> + +<p> +And I went through the whole list of eatables as before, ending with the +ham-sandwiches and the pot of jelly. +</p> + +<p> +“Law! Mr. Gahagan,” said Mrs. Colonel Vandegobbleschroy, “give me the +ham-sandwiches—I must manage to breakfast off them.” +</p> + +<p> +And you should have heard the pretty to-do there was at this modest +proposition! Of course I did not accede to it—why should I? I was the commander +of the fort, and intended to keep these three very sandwiches for the use of +myself and my dear Belinda. “Ladies,” said I, “there are in this fort one +hundred and twenty- six souls, and this is all the food which is to last us +during the siege. Meat there is none—of drink there is a tolerable quantity; +and at one o’clock punctually, a glass of wine and one olive shall be served +out to each woman: the men will receive two glasses, and an olive and a fig—and +this must be your food during the siege. Lord Lake cannot be absent more than +three days; and if he be—why, still there is a chance—why do I say a +chance?—<i>a certainty</i> of escaping from the hands of these ruffians.” +</p> + +<p> +“Oh, name it, name it, dear Captain Gahagan!” screeched the whole covey at a +breath. +</p> + +<p> +“It lies,” answered I, “in the <i>powder magazine</i>. I will blow this fort, +and all it contains, to atoms, ere it becomes the prey of Holkar.” +</p> + +<p> +The women, at this, raised a squeal that might have been heard in Holkar’s +camp, and fainted in different directions; but my dear Belinda whispered in my +ear, “Well done, thou noble knight! bravely said, my heart’s Goliah!” I felt I +was right: I could have blown her up twenty times for the luxury of that single +moment! “And now, ladies,” said I, “I must leave you. The two chaplains will +remain with you to administer professional consolation—the other gentlemen will +follow me upstairs to the ramparts, where I shall find plenty of work for +them.” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a> +CHAPTER VII<br/> +The Escape</h2> + +<p> +Loth as they were, these gentlemen had nothing for it but to obey, and they +accordingly followed me to the ramparts, where I proceeded to review my men. +The fort, in my absence, had been left in command of Lieutenant Macgillicuddy, +a countryman of my own (with whom, as may be seen in an early chapter of my +memoirs, I had an affair of honour); and the prisoner Bobbachy Bahawder, whom I +had only stunned, never wishing to kill him, had been left in charge of that +officer. Three of the garrison (one of them a man of the Ahmednuggar +Irregulars, my own body-servant, Ghorumsaug above named) were appointed to +watch the captive by turns, and never leave him out of their sight. The +lieutenant was instructed to look to them and to their prisoner; and as +Bobbachy was severely injured by the blow which I had given him, and was, +moreover, bound hand and foot, and gagged smartly with cords, I considered +myself sure of his person. +</p> + +<p> +Macgillicuddy did not make his appearance when I reviewed my little force, and +the three havildars were likewise absent: this did not surprise me, as I had +told them not to leave their prisoner; but desirous to speak with the +lieutenant, I despatched a messenger to him, and ordered him to appear +immediately. +</p> + +<p> +The messenger came back; he was looking ghastly pale: he whispered some +information into my ear, which instantly caused me to hasten to the apartments +where I had caused Bobbachy Bahawder to be confined. +</p> + +<p> +The men had fled;—Bobbachy had fled; and in his place, fancy my astonishment +when I found—with a rope cutting his naturally wide mouth almost into his +ears—with a dreadful sabre-cut across his forehead—with his legs tied over his +head, and his arms tied between his legs—my unhappy, my attached +friend—Mortimer Macgillicuddy! +</p> + +<p> +He had been in this position for about three hours—it was the very position in +which I had caused Bobbachy Bahawder to be placed—an attitude uncomfortable, it +is true, but one which renders escape impossible, unless treason aid the +prisoner. +</p> + +<p> +I restored the lieutenant to his natural erect position; I poured half-a-bottle +of whisky down the immensely enlarged orifice of his mouth; and when he had +been released, he informed me of the circumstances that had taken place. +</p> + +<p> +Fool that I was! idiot!—upon my return to the fort, to have been anxious about +my personal appearance, and to have spent a couple of hours in removing the +artificial blackening from my beard and complexion, instead of going to examine +my prisoner—when his escape would have been prevented. O foppery, foppery!—it +was that cursed love of personal appearance which had led me to forget my duty +to my general, my country, my monarch, and my own honour! +</p> + +<p> +Thus it was that the escape took place:- My own fellow of the Irregulars, whom +I had summoned to dress me, performed the operation to my satisfaction, +invested me with the elegant uniform of my corps, and removed the Pitan’s +disguise, which I had taken from the back of the prostrate Bobbachy Bahawder. +What did the rogue do next?—Why, he carried back the dress to the Bobbachy—he +put it, once more, on its right owner; he and his infernal black companions +(who had been won over by the Bobbachy with promises of enormous reward) gagged +Macgillicuddy, who was going the rounds, and then marched with the Indian +coolly up to the outer gate, and gave the word. The sentinel, thinking it was +myself, who had first come in, and was as likely to go out again—(indeed my +rascally valet said that Gahagan Sahib was about to go out with him and his two +companions to reconnoitre)—opened the gates, and off they went! +</p> + +<p> +This accounted for the confusion of my valet when I entered!—and for the +scoundrel’s speech, that the lieutenant had <i>just been the rounds;</i>—he +<i>had</i>, poor fellow, and had been seized and bound in this cruel way. The +three men, with their liberated prisoner, had just been on the point of escape, +when my arrival disconcerted them: I had changed the guard at the gate (whom +they had won over likewise); and yet, although they had overcome poor Mac, and +although they were ready for the start, they had positively no means for +effecting their escape, until I was ass enough to put means in their way. Fool! +fool! thrice besotted fool that I was, to think of my own silly person when I +should have been occupied solely with my public duty. +</p> + +<p> +From Macgillicuddy’s incoherent accounts, as he was gasping from the effects of +the gag and the whisky he had taken to revive him, and from my own subsequent +observations, I learned this sad story. A sudden and painful thought struck +me—my precious box!—I rushed back, I found that box—I have it still. Opening +it, there, where I had left ingots, sacks of bright tomauns, kopeks and rupees, +strings of diamonds as big as ducks’ eggs, rubies as red as the lips of my +Belinda, countless strings of pearls, amethysts, emeralds, piles upon piles of +bank-notes—I found—a piece of paper! with a few lines in the Sanscrit language, +which are thus, word for word, translated:- +</p> + +<p class="center"> +“EPIGRAM.<br/> +(<i>On disappointing a certain Major</i>.) +</p> + +<p class="poem"> +“The conquering lion return’d with his prey,<br/> + And safe in his cavern he set it;<br/> +The sly little fox stole the booty away,<br/> +And, as he escaped, to the lion did say,<br/> + ‘<i>Aha!</i> don’t you wish you may get it?’” +</p> + +<p> +Confusion! Oh, how my blood boiled as I read these cutting lines. I stamped,—I +swore,—I don’t know to what insane lengths my rage might have carried me, had +not at this moment a soldier rushed in, screaming, “The enemy, the enemy!” +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a> +CHAPTER VIII<br/> +The Captive</h2> + +<p> +It was high time, indeed, that I should make my appearance. Waving my sword +with one hand and seizing my telescope with the other, I at once frightened and +examined the enemy. Well they knew when they saw that flamingo-plume floating +in the breeze—that awful figure standing in the breach—that waving war-sword +sparkling in the sky—well, I say, they knew the name of the humble individual +who owned the sword, the plume, and the figure. The ruffians were mustered in +front, the cavalry behind. The flags were flying, the drums, gongs, +tambourines, violoncellos, and other instruments of Eastern music, raised in +the air a strange barbaric melody; the officers (yatabals), mounted on white +dromedaries, were seen galloping to and fro, carrying to the advancing hosts +the orders of Holkar. +</p> + +<p> +You see that two sides of the fort of Futtyghur (rising as it does on a rock +that is almost perpendicular) are defended by the Burrumpooter river, two +hundred feet deep at this point, and a thousand yards wide, so that I had no +fear about them attacking me in <i>that</i> quarter. My guns, therefore (with +their six-and-thirty miserable charges of shot), were dragged round to the +point at which I conceived Holkar would be most likely to attack me. I was in a +situation that I did not dare to fire, except at such times as I could kill a +hundred men by a single discharge of a cannon; so the attacking party marched +and marched, very strongly, about a mile and a half off, the elephants marching +without receiving the slightest damage from us, until they had come to within +four hundred yards of our walls (the rogues knew all the secrets of our +weakness, through the betrayal of the dastardly Ghorumsaug, or they never would +have ventured so near). At that distance—it was about the spot where the +Futtyghur hill began gradually to rise—the invading force stopped; the +elephants drew up in a line, at right angles with our wall (the fools! they +thought they should expose themselves too much by taking a position parallel to +it); the cavalry halted too, and—after the deuce’s own flourish of trumpets and +banging of gongs, to be sure,—somebody, in a flame-coloured satin dress, with +an immense jewel blazing in his pugree (that looked through my telescope like a +small but very bright planet), got up from the back of one of the very biggest +elephants, and began a speech. +</p> + +<p> +The elephants were, as I said, in a line formed with admirable precision, about +three hundred of them. The following little diagram will explain matters:- +</p> + +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +....... G | +E | + | F +</pre> + +<p> +<i>E</i> is the line of elephants. <i>F</i> is the wall of the fort. <i>G</i> a +gun in the fort. <i>Now</i> the reader will see what I did. +</p> + +<p> +The elephants were standing, their trunks waggling to and fro gracefully before +them; and I, with superhuman skill and activity, brought the gun <i>G</i> (a +devilish long brass gun) to bear upon them. I pointed it myself; bang! it +went, and what was the consequence? Why, this:- +</p> + +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + x +....... G | +E | + | F +</pre> + +<p> +<i>F</i> is the fort, as before. <i>G</i> is the gun, as before. <i>E</i>, the +elephants, as we have previously seen them. What then is x? x <i>is the line +taken by the ball fired from</i> G, which took off <i>one hundred and +thirty-four elephants’</i> trunks, and only spent itself in the tusk of a very +old animal, that stood the hundred and thirty-fifth! +</p> + +<p> +I say that such a shot was never fired before or since; that a gun was never +pointed in such a way. Suppose I had been a common man, and contented myself +with firing bang at the head of the first animal? An ass would have done it, +prided himself had he hit his mark, and what would have been the consequence? +Why, that the ball might have killed two elephants and wounded a third; but +here, probably, it would have stopped, and done no further mischief. The +<i>trunk</i> was the place at which to aim; there are no bones there; and away, +consequently, went the bullet, shearing, as I have said, through one hundred +and thirty-five probosces. Heavens! what a howl there was when the shot took +effect! What a sudden stoppage of Holkar’s speech! What a hideous snorting of +elephants! What a rush backwards was made by the whole army, as if some demon +was pursuing them! +</p> + +<p> +Away they went. No sooner did I see them in full retreat, than, rushing forward +myself, I shouted to my men, “My friends, yonder lies your dinner!” We flung +open the gates—we tore down to the spot where the elephants had fallen: seven +of them were killed; and of those that escaped to die of their hideous wounds +elsewhere, most had left their trunks behind them. A great quantity of them we +seized; and I myself, cutting up with my scimitar a couple of the fallen +animals, as a butcher would a calf, motioned to the men to take the pieces back +to the fort, where barbecued elephant was served round for dinner, instead of +the miserable allowance of an olive and a glass of wine, which I had promised +to my female friends, in my speech to them. The animal reserved for the ladies +was a young white one—the fattest and tenderest I ever ate in my life: they are +very fair eating, but the flesh has an India-rubber flavour, which, until one +is accustomed to it, is unpalatable. +</p> + +<p> +It was well that I had obtained this supply, for, during my absence on the +works, Mrs. Vandegobbleschroy and one or two others had forced their way into +the supper-room, and devoured every morsel of the garrison larder, with the +exception of the cheeses, the olives, and the wine, which were locked up in my +own apartment, before which stood a sentinel. Disgusting Mrs. Van! When I heard +of her gluttony, I had almost a mind to eat <i>her</i>. However, we made a very +comfortable dinner off the barbecued steaks, and when everybody had done, had +the comfort of knowing that there was enough for one meal more. +</p> + +<p> +The next day, as I expected, the enemy attacked us in great force, attempting +to escalade the fort; but by the help of my guns, and my good sword, by the +distinguished bravery of Lieutenant Macgillicuddy and the rest of the garrison, +we beat this attack off completely, the enemy sustaining a loss of seven +hundred men. We were victorious; but when another attack was made, what were we +to do? We had still a little powder left, but had fired off all the shot, +stones, iron-bars, &c. in the garrison! On this day, too, we devoured the +last morsel of our food: I shall never forget Mrs. Vandegobbleschroy’s +despairing look, as I saw her sitting alone, attempting to make some impression +on the little white elephant’s roasted tail. +</p> + +<p> +The third day the attack was repeated. The resources of genius are never at an +end. Yesterday I had no ammunition; to-day, I discovered charges sufficient for +two guns, and two swivels, which were much longer, but had bores of about +blunderbuss size. +</p> + +<p> +This time my friend Loll Mahommed, who had received, as the reader may +remember, such a bastinadoing for my sake, headed the attack. The poor wretch +could not walk, but he was carried in an open palanquin, and came on waving his +sword, and cursing horribly in his Hindustan jargon. Behind him came troops of +matchlock-men, who picked off every one of our men who showed their noses above +the ramparts; and a great host of blackamoors with scaling-ladders, bundles to +fill the ditch, fascines, gabions, culverins, demilunes, counterscarps, and all +the other appurtenances of offensive war. +</p> + +<p> +On they came; my guns and men were ready for them. You will ask how my pieces +were loaded? I answer, that though my garrison were without food, I knew my +duty as an officer, and <i>had put the two Dutch cheeses into the two guns, and +had crammed the contents of a bottle of olives into each swivel</i>. +</p> + +<p> +They advanced,—whish! went one of the Dutch cheeses,—bang! went the other. +Alas! they did little execution. In their first contact with an opposing body, +they certainly floored it; but they became at once like so much Welsh-rabbit, +and did no execution beyond the man whom they struck down. +</p> + +<p> +“Hogree, pogree, wongree-fum (praise to Allah and the forty-nine Imaums!)” +shouted out the ferocious Loll Mahommed when he saw the failure of my shot. +“Onward, sons of the Prophet! the infidel has no more ammunition. A hundred +thousand lakhs of rupees to the man who brings me Gahagan’s head!” +</p> + +<p> +His men set up a shout, and rushed forward—he, to do him justice, was at the +very head, urging on his own palanquin-bearers, and poking them with the tip of +his scimitar. They came panting up the hill: I was black with rage, but it was +the cold concentrated rage of despair. “Macgillicuddy,” said I, calling that +faithful officer, “you know where the barrels of powder are?” He did. “You know +the use to make of them?” He did. He grasped my hand. “Goliah,” said he, +“farewell! I swear that the fort shall be in atoms, as soon as yonder +unbelievers have carried it. Oh, my poor mother!” added the gallant youth, as +sighing, yet fearless, he retired to his post. +</p> + +<p> +I gave one thought to my blessed, my beautiful Belinda, and then, stepping into +the front, took down one of the swivels;—a shower of matchlock balls came +whizzing round my head. I did not heed them. +</p> + +<p> +I took the swivel, and aimed coolly. Loll Mahommed, his palanquin, and his men, +were now not above two hundred yards from the fort. Loll was straight before +me, gesticulating and shouting to his men. I fired—bang!!! +</p> + +<p> +I aimed so true, that <i>one hundred and seventeen best Spanish olives were +lodged in a lump in the face of the unhappy Loll Mahommed</i>. The wretch, +uttering a yell the most hideous and unearthly I ever heard, fell back dead; +the frightened bearers flung down the palanquin and ran—the whole host ran as +one man: their screams might be heard for leagues. “Tomasha, tomasha,” they +cried, “it is enchantment!” Away they fled, and the victory a third time was +ours. Soon as the fight was done, I flew back to my Belinda. We had eaten +nothing for twenty-four hours, but I forgot hunger in the thought of once more +beholding <i>her!</i> +</p> + +<p> +The sweet soul turned towards me with a sickly smile as I entered, and almost +fainted in my arms; but alas! it was not love which caused in her bosom an +emotion so strong—it was hunger! “Oh! my Goliah,” whispered she, “for three +days I have not tasted food—I could not eat that horrid elephant yesterday; but +now—oh! Heaven!—” She could say no more, but sank almost lifeless on my +shoulder. I administered to her a trifling dram of rum, which revived her for a +moment, and then rushed downstairs, determined that if it were a piece of my +own leg, she should still have something to satisfy her hunger. Luckily I +remembered that three or four elephants were still lying in the field, having +been killed by us in the first action, two days before. Necessity, thought I, +has no law; my adorable girl must eat elephant, until she can get something +better. +</p> + +<p> +I rushed into the court where the men were, for the most part, assembled. +“Men,” said I, “our larder is empty; we must fill it as we did the day before +yesterday. Who will follow Gahagan on a foraging party?” I expected that, as on +former occasions, every man would offer to accompany me. +</p> + +<p> +To my astonishment, not a soul moved—a murmur arose among the troops; and at +last one of the oldest and bravest came forward. +</p> + +<p> +“Captain,” he said, “it is of no use; we cannot feed upon elephants for ever; +we have not a grain of powder left, and must give up the fort when the attack +is made to-morrow. We may as well be prisoners now as then, and we won’t go +elephant-hunting any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ruffian!” I said, “he who first talks of surrender, dies!” and I cut him down. +“Is there anyone else who wishes to speak?” +</p> + +<p> +No one stirred. +</p> + +<p> +“Cowards! miserable cowards!” shouted I; “what, you dare not move for fear of +death at the hands of those wretches who even now fled before your arms—what, +do I say <i>your</i> arms?—before <i>mine!</i>—alone I did it; and as alone I +routed the foe, alone I will victual the fortress! Ho! open the gate!” +</p> + +<p> +I rushed out; not a single man would follow. The bodies of the elephants that +we had killed still lay on the ground where they had fallen, about four hundred +yards from the fort. I descended calmly the hill, a very steep one, and coming +to the spot, took my pick of the animals, choosing a tolerably small and plump +one, of about thirteen feet high, which the vultures had respected. I threw +this animal over my shoulders, and made for the fort. +</p> + +<p> +As I marched up the acclivity, whizz—piff—whirr! came the balls over my head; +and pitter-patter, pitter-patter! they fell on the body of the elephant like +drops of rain. The enemy were behind me; I knew it, and quickened my pace. I +heard the gallop of their horse: they came nearer, nearer; I was within a +hundred yards of the fort—seventy—fifty! I strained every nerve; I panted with +the superhuman exertion—I ran—could a man run very fast with such a tremendous +weight on his shoulders? +</p> + +<p> +Up came the enemy; fifty horsemen were shouting and screaming at my tail. O +Heaven! five yards more—one moment—and I am saved. It is done—I strain the last +strain—I make the last step—I fling forward my precious burden into the gate +opened wide to receive me and it, and—I fall! The gate thunders to, and I am +left <i>on the outside!</i> Fifty knives are gleaming before my bloodshot +eyes—fifty black hands are at my throat, when a voice exclaims, “Stop!—kill him +not, it is Gujputi!” A film came over my eyes—exhausted nature would bear no +more. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a> +CHAPTER IX<br/> +Surprise of Futtyghur</h2> + +<p> +When I awoke from the trance into which I had fallen, I found myself in a bath, +surrounded by innumerable black faces; and a Hindoo pothukoor (whence our word +apothecary) feeling my pulse and looking at me with an air of sagacity. +</p> + +<p> +“Where am I?” I exclaimed, looking round and examining the strange faces, and +the strange apartment which met my view. “Bekhusm!” said the apothecary. +“Silence! Gahagan Sahib is in the hands of those who know his valour, and will +save his life.” +</p> + +<p> +“Know my valour, slave? Of course you do,” said I; “but the fort— the +garrison—the elephant—Belinda, my love—my darling— Macgillicuddy—the +scoundrelly mutineers—the deal bo- “ +</p> + +<p> +I could say no more; the painful recollections pressed so heavily upon my poor +shattered mind and frame, that both failed once more. I fainted again, and I +know not how long I lay insensible. +</p> + +<p> +Again, however, I came to my senses: the pothukoor applied restoratives, and +after a slumber of some hours I awoke, much refreshed. I had no wound; my +repeated swoons had been brought on (as indeed well they might) by my gigantic +efforts in carrying the elephant up a steep hill a quarter of a mile in length. +Walking, the task is bad enough: but running, it is the deuce; and I would +recommend any of my readers who may be disposed to try and carry a dead +elephant, never, on any account, to go a pace of more than five miles an hour. +</p> + +<p> +Scarcely was I awake, when I heard the clash of arms at my door (plainly +indicating that sentinels were posted there), and a single old gentleman, +richly habited, entered the room. Did my eyes deceive me? I had surely seen him +before. No—yes—no—yes—it <i>was</i> he: the snowy white beard, the mild eyes, +the nose flattened to a jelly, and level with the rest of the venerable face, +proclaimed him at once to be—Saadut Alee Beg Bimbukchee, Holkar’s Prime Vizier; +whose nose, as the reader may recollect, his Highness had flattened with his +kaleawn during my interview with him in the Pitan’s disguise. I now knew my +fate but too well—I was in the hands of Holkar. +</p> + +<p> +Saadut Alee Beg Bimbukchee slowly advanced towards me, and with a mild air of +benevolence which distinguished that excellent man (he was torn to pieces by +wild horses the year after, on account of a difference with Holkar), he came to +my bedside and, taking gently my hand, said, “Life and death, my son, are not +ours. Strength is deceitful, valour is unavailing, fame is only wind—the +nightingale sings of the rose all night—where is the rose in the morning? +Booch, booch! it is withered by a frost. The rose makes remarks regarding the +nightingale, and where is that delightful song-bird? Pena-bekhoda, he is +netted, plucked, spitted, and roasted! Who knows how misfortune comes? It has +come to Gahagan Gujputi!” +</p> + +<p> +“It is well,” said I, stoutly, and in the Malay language. “Gahagan Gujputi will +bear it like a man.” +</p> + +<p> +“No doubt—like a wise man and a brave one; but there is no lane so long to +which there is not a turning, no night so black to which there comes not a +morning. Icy winter is followed by merry springtime—grief is often succeeded by +joy.” +</p> + +<p> +“Interpret, O riddler!” said I; “Gahagan Khan is no reader of puzzles—no +prating mollah. Gujputi loves not words, but swords.” +</p> + +<p> +“Listen then, O Gujputi: you are in Holkar’s power.” +</p> + +<p> +“I know it.” +</p> + +<p> +“You will die by the most horrible tortures to-morrow morning.” +</p> + +<p> +“I dare say.” +</p> + +<p> +“They will tear your teeth from your jaws, your nails from your fingers, and +your eyes from your head.” +</p> + +<p> +“Very possibly.” +</p> + +<p> +“They will flay you alive, and then burn you.” +</p> + +<p> +“Well; they can’t do any more.” +</p> + +<p> +“They will seize upon every man and woman in yonder fort”—it was not then +taken!—“and repeat upon them the same tortures.” +</p> + +<p> +“Ha! Belinda! Speak—how can all this be avoided?” +</p> + +<p> +“Listen. Gahagan loves the moon-face called Belinda.” +</p> + +<p> +“He does, Vizier, to distraction.” +</p> + +<p> +“Of what rank is he in the Koompani’s army?” +</p> + +<p> +“A captain.” +</p> + +<p> +“A miserable captain—oh, shame! Of what creed is he?” +</p> + +<p> +“I am an Irishman, and a Catholic.” +</p> + +<p> +“But he has not been very particular about his religious duties?” +</p> + +<p> +“Alas, no!” +</p> + +<p> +“He has not been to his mosque for these twelve years?” +</p> + +<p> +“’Tis too true.” +</p> + +<p> +“Hearken now, Gahagan Khan. His Highness Prince Holkar has sent me to thee. You +shall have the moon-face for your wife—your second wife, that is;—the first +shall be the incomparable Puttee Rooge, who loves you to madness;—with Puttee +Rooge, who is the wife, you shall have the wealth and rank of Bobbachy +Bahawder, of whom his Highness intends to get rid. You shall be second in +command of his Highness’s forces. Look, here is his commission signed with the +celestial seal, and attested by the sacred names of the forty-nine Imaums. You +have but to renounce your religion and your service, and all these rewards are +yours.” +</p> + +<p> +He produced a parchment, signed as he said, and gave it to me (it was +beautifully written in Indian ink: I had it for fourteen years, but a rascally +valet, seeing it very dirty, <i>washed</i> it, forsooth, and washed off every +bit of the writing). I took it calmly, and said, “This is a tempting offer. O +Vizier, how long wilt thou give me to consider of it?” +</p> + +<p> +After a long parley, he allowed me six hours, when I promised to give him an +answer. My mind, however, was made up—as soon as he was gone, I threw myself on +the sofa and fell asleep. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +At the end of the six hours the Vizier came back: two people were with him; +one, by his martial appearance, I knew to be Holkar, the other I did not +recognise. It was about midnight. +</p> + +<p> +“Have you considered?” said the Vizier, as he came to my couch. +</p> + +<p> +“I have,” said I, sitting up,—I could not stand, for my legs were tied, and my +arms fixed in a neat pair of steel handcuffs. “I have,” said I, “unbelieving +dogs! I have. Do you think to pervert a Christian gentleman from his faith and +honour? Ruffian blackamoors! do your worst; heap tortures on this body, they +cannot last long. Tear me to pieces: after you have torn me into a certain +number of pieces, I shall not feel it; and if I did, if each torture could last +a life, if each limb were to feel the agonies of a whole body, what then? I +would bear all—all—all— all—all—<small>ALL</small>!” My breast heaved—my form +dilated—my eye flashed as I spoke these words. “Tyrants!” said I, “dulce et +decorum est pro patria mori.” Having thus clinched the argument, I was silent. +</p> + +<p> +The venerable. Grand Vizier turned away; I saw a tear trickling down his +cheeks. +</p> + +<p> +“What a constancy!” said he. “Oh, that such beauty and such bravery should be +doomed so soon to quit the earth!” +</p> + +<p> +His tall companion only sneered and said, “<i>And Belinda</i>”— +</p> + +<p> +“Ha!” said I, “ruffian, be still!—Heaven will protect her spotless innocence. +Holkar, I know thee, and thou knowest <i>me</i> too! Who, with his single +sword, destroyed thy armies? Who, with his pistol, cleft in twain thy +nose-ring? Who slew thy generals? Who slew thy elephants? Three hundred mighty +beasts went forth to battle: of these <i>I</i> slew one hundred and +thirty-five! Dog, coward, ruffian, tyrant, unbeliever! Gahagan hates thee, +spurns thee, spits on thee!” +</p> + +<p> +Holkar, as I made these uncomplimentary remarks, gave a scream of rage, and, +drawing his scimitar, rushed on to despatch me at once (it was the very thing I +wished for), when the third person sprang forward and, seizing his arm, cried - +</p> + +<p> +“Papa! oh, save him!” It was Puttee Rooge! “Remember,” continued she, “his +misfortunes—remember, oh, remember my—love!”—and here she blushed, and putting +one finger into her mouth, and hanging down her head, looked the very picture +of modest affection. +</p> + +<p> +Holkar sulkily sheathed his scimitar, and muttered, “’Tis better as it is; had +I killed him now, I had spared him the torture. None of this shameless fooling, +Puttee Rooge,” continued the tyrant, dragging her away. “Captain Gahagan dies +three hours from hence.” Puttee Rooge gave one scream and fainted—her father +and the Vizier carried her off between them; nor was I loth to part with her, +for, with all her love, she was as ugly as the deuce. +</p> + +<p> +They were gone—my fate was decided. I had but three hours more of life: so I +flung myself again on the sofa, and fell profoundly asleep. As it may happen to +any of my readers to be in the same situation, and to be hanged themselves, let +me earnestly entreat them to adopt this plan of going to sleep, which I for my +part have repeatedly found to be successful. It saves unnecessary annoyance, it +passes away a great deal of unpleasant time, and it prepares one to meet like a +man the coming catastrophe. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +Three o’clock came: the sun was at this time making his appearance in the +heavens, and with it came the guards, who were appointed to conduct me to the +torture. I woke, rose, was carried out, and was set on the very white donkey on +which Loll Mahommed was conducted through the camp after he was bastinadoed. +Bobbachy Bahawder rode behind me, restored to his rank and state; troops of +cavalry hemmed us in on all sides; my ass was conducted by the common +executioner: a crier went forward, shouting out, “Make way for the destroyer of +the faithful—he goes to bear the punishment of his crimes.” We came to the +fatal plain: it was the very spot whence I had borne away the elephant, and in +full sight of the fort. I looked towards it. Thank Heaven! King George’s banner +waved on it still—a crowd were gathered on the walls—the men, the dastards who +had deserted me—and women, too. Among the latter I thought I distinguished +<i>one</i> who—O gods! the thought turned me sick—I trembled and looked pale +for the first time. +</p> + +<p> +“He trembles! he turns pale,” shouted out Bobbachy Bahawder, ferociously +exulting over his conquered enemy. +</p> + +<p> +“Dog!” shouted I—(I was sitting with my head to the donkey’s tail, and so +looked the Bobbachy full in the face)—“not so pale as you looked when I felled +you with this arm—not so pale as your women looked when I entered your harem!” +Completely chop-fallen, the Indian ruffian was silent: at any rate, I had done +for <i>him</i>. +</p> + +<p> +We arrived at the place of execution. A stake, a couple of feet thick and eight +high, was driven in the grass: round the stake, about seven feet from the +ground, was an iron ring, to which were attached two fetters; in these my +wrists were placed. Two or three executioners stood near, with strange-looking +instruments: others were blowing at a fire, over which was a cauldron, and in +the embers were stuck prongs and other instruments of iron. +</p> + +<p> +The crier came forward and read my sentence. It was the same in effect as that +which had been hinted to me the day previous by the Grand Vizier. I confess I +was too agitated to catch every word that was spoken. +</p> + +<p> +Holkar himself, on a tall dromedary, was at a little distance. The Grand Vizier +came up to me—it was his duty to stand by, and see the punishment performed. +“It is yet time!” said he. +</p> + +<p> +I nodded my head, but did not answer. +</p> + +<p> +The Vizier cast up to heaven a look of inexpressible anguish, and with a voice +choking with emotion, said, “<i>Executioner—do—your—duty!</i>” +</p> + +<p> +The horrid man advanced—he whispered sulkily in the ears of the Grand Vizier, +“<i>Guggly ka ghee, hum khedgeree</i>,” said he, “<i>the oil does not boil +yet</i>—wait one minute.” The assistants blew, the fire blazed, the oil was +heated. The Vizier drew a few feet aside: taking a large ladle full of the +boiling liquid, he advanced - +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +“Whish! bang, bang! pop!” the executioner was dead at my feet, shot through the +head; the ladle of scalding oil had been dashed in the face of the unhappy +Grand Vizier, who lay on the plain, howling. “Whish! bang! pop! +Hurrah!—charge!—forwards!—cut them down!—no quarter!” +</p> + +<p> +I saw—yes, no, yes, no, yes!—I saw regiment upon regiment of galloping British +horsemen riding over the ranks of the flying natives. First of the host, I +recognised, O Heaven! my A<small>HMEDNUGGAR</small> I<small>RREGULARS</small>! +On came the gallant line of black steeds and horsemen; swift swift before them +rode my officers in yellow—Glogger, Pappendick, and Stuffle; their sabres +gleamed in the sun, their voices rung in the air. “D— them!” they cried, “give +it them, boys!” A strength supernatural thrilled through my veins at that +delicious music: by one tremendous effort, I wrested the post from its +foundation, five feet in the ground. I could not release my hands from the +fetters, it is true; but, grasping the beam tightly, I sprung forward—with one +blow I levelled the five executioners in the midst of the fire, their fall +upsetting the scalding oil-can; with the next, I swept the bearers of +Bobbachy’s palanquin off their legs; with the third, I caught that chief +himself in the small of the back, and sent him flying on to the sabres of my +advancing soldiers! +</p> + +<p> +The next minute, Glogger and Stuffle were in my arms, Pappendick leading on the +Irregulars. Friend and foe in that wild chase had swept far away. We were +alone: I was freed from my immense bar; and ten minutes afterwards, when Lord +Lake trotted up with his staff, he found me sitting on it. +</p> + +<p> +“Look at Gahagan,” said his Lordship. “Gentlemen, did I not tell you we should +be sure to find him <i>at his post?</i>” +</p> + +<p> +The gallant old nobleman rode on: and this was the famous B<small>ATTLE +OF</small> F<small>URRUCKABAD</small>, or S<small>URPRISE OF</small> +F<small>UTTYGHUR</small>, fought on the 17th of November, 1804. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +About a month afterwards, the following announcement appeared in the +<i>Boggleywollah Hurkaru</i> and other Indian papers:- +</p> + +<p class="letter"> +“Married, on the 25th of December, at Futtyghur, by the Rev. Dr. Snorter, +Captain Goliah O’Grady Gahagan, Commanding Irregular Horse, Ahmednuggar, to +Belinda, second daughter of Major-General Bulcher, C.B. His Excellency the +Commander-in-Chief gave away the bride; and, after a splendid <i>déjeuner</i>, +the happy pair set off to pass the Mango season at Hurrygurrybang. Venus must +recollect, however, that Mars must not <i>always</i> be at her side. The +Irregulars are nothing without their leader.” +</p> + +<p> +Such was the paragraph—such the event—the happiest in the existence of +</p> + +<p class="right"> +G. O’G. G., M.H.E.I.C.S., C.I.H.A. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a> +Footnotes:</h2> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn1"></a> <a href="#fnref1">[1]</a> +So admirable are the performances of these watches, which will stand in any +climate, that I repeatedly heard poor Macgillicuddy relate the following fact. +The hours, as it is known, count in Italy from one to twenty-four: <i>The day Mac +landed at Naples his repeater rung the Italian hours, from one to twenty-four;</i> +as soon as he crossed the Alps it only sounded as usual.—G. O’G. G. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn2"></a> <a href="#fnref2">[2]</a> +In my affair with Macgillicuddy, I was fool enough to go out with small +swords:- miserable weapons, only fit for tailors.—G. O’G. G. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn3"></a> <a href="#fnref3">[3]</a> +The Major certainly offered to leave an old snuff-box at Mr. Cunningham’s +office; but it contained no extract from a newspaper, and does not <i>quite</i> +prove that he killed a rhinoceros and stormed fourteen entrenchments at the +siege of Allyghur. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn4"></a> <a href="#fnref4">[4]</a> +The double-jointed camel of Bactria, which the classic reader may recollect is +mentioned by Suidas (in his Commentary on the Flight of Darius), is so called +by the Mahrattas. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn5"></a> <a href="#fnref5">[5]</a> +There is some trifling inconsistency on the Major’s part. Shah Allum was +notoriously blind: how, then, could he have seen Gahagan? The thing is +manifestly impossible. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn6"></a> <a href="#fnref6">[6]</a> +I do not wish to brag of my style of writing, or to pretend that my genius as a +writer has not been equalled in former times; but if, in the works of Byron, +Scott, Goethe, or Victor Hugo, the reader can find a more beautiful sentence +than the above, I will be obliged to him, that is all—I simply say, <i>I will be +obliged to him</i>.—G. O’G. G., M.H.E.I.C.S., C.I.H.A. +</p> + +<p class="footnote"> +<a name="fn7"></a> <a href="#fnref7">[7]</a> +The Major has put the most approved language into the mouths of his Indian +characters. Bismillah, Barikallah, and so on, according to the novelists, form +the very essence of Eastern conversation. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1935 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + + |