A Year in Peshawur, and a Lady's ride into the Khyber Pass

Preface

THIS story is written by one who has lived in the country in which the scene is laid, and is intended to give some idea of the life led by officers and their families in a station like Peshawur. To enliven the scenes, it has been necessary to people them ; but it has been the writer's studious care that her fictitious characters shall be typical, and in no case to risk offence by drawing from life. During the interval between the composition and the publication of this work, many changes have taken place in Afghanistan, but they do not in any way affect " A Year in Peshawur." CONTENTS.

Chapter I. Introductory

IHE cold season was j'ust breaking up, and the much dreaded hot weather coming slowly but surely. Each day we could feel a perceptible change, and the grumblers would soon have reason to grumble in earnest, for in a few weeks the summer would be upon us in all its fury, and punkahs, tatties, icecf beverages, and all other hot-weather appendages in full swing. No one who has not been in India can imagine what the feeling of an Indian spring is; so different to the English one, which is a time of rejoicing, one may say, especially to the old and poor, to whom winter is only another name for rheumatics I! and misery. In India, on the contrary, the period between the two seasons of hot and cold weather we scarcely ought to call spring, for there is nothing spring-like in it except perhaps in the extreme north of India, where the trees do bud and blossom and the leaves are green and remain so for a month or two.

But in the north, March and April are pleasant months, indeed it is very cold there in January and February, and one may see snow on the near ranges and enjoy a fire in the house all day long. There are many drawbacks though to the north-country spring ; for during the day the sun is very warm, and the temperature like an English summer, while the nights are very cold ; and this great contrast between day and night induces fever, to which the poor natives, who are generally so thinly clad, fall victims in numbers. Plowever, fever and ague are not usually so prevalent in the spring of the year as in the autumn ; the latter is very trying, particularly to the European portion of the population, who are so reduced by the summer campaign as not to have the same strength to with stand it as they have after being braced a little by the cold weather.

Summer in India is of itself a campaign, for is it not a continual warfare with every kind of plague, from heat to insects ? From morning to night the best intentioned and least selfish people can think of nothing but the heat, and how to bear it, and the most sensible means to reduce its effect. It is Introductory. 3 needless to say that individuals differ as to the best mode of getting through the days ; for where do they ever agree ? and India is the last place in which they are likely to do so. Some will say keep your doors open and let in the fresh air ; but these are usually of the " Griffin " stamp, for the air is far from fresh, and at some seasons hot enough to scorch the skin off your face. Indeed, when you go out for a drive in the evening, the effect is exactly as if you were sitting before a blazing kitchen fire ; but this is not the worst, for at times, just before the rains, when you cannot breathe at all, the clouds gather, the atmosphere becomes the colour of pea-soup, and breathing is really a difficulty.

English people who have not visited the country cannot under stand Indian weather. They imagine it is equally hot all the year round ; that the same seasons prevail, north, south, east and west, forgetting the difference there must be in the latitude and longitude of the different parts. Even, if in conversation with an ordinarily intelligent Englishman, you should allude to the cold, he looks at you in surprise and thinks you must make a mistake. " Cold in India ! dear me ! I thought it never could be cold there," is usually his answer. Now I have had my say about the weather, I am going to begin my story, which opens at Peshawur, a military and civil station situated in a valley sur rounded by hills. I need hardly say that Peshawur B is our last military station in the north of India, the nearest one to the Afghan frontier and the celebrated Khyber pass, of which almost all must have heard some time or other.

Every reader of history must be well acquainted with the awful circumstances of that ever memorable Afghan war. Now Afghanistan has lately been so much talked of, written and read about,1 that few, except those most intensely and wilfully ignorant, can fail to know something about it, although they may be ignorant of the causes of our present difficulties with Afghanistan and the Ameer of Cabul, who, after all, is but a puppet in the hands of a powerful nation. The whole business is but a repetition of the old story of the monkey and the chestnuts, and like it has its moral. No one who has been in that part of India, and lived among the people, or has even the smallest acquaintance with their ways and habits, can for a moment imagine that the nominal ruler of Afghanistan is a free agent, or that he would dare to insult the English government or the English people, (for whom some years back he professed to entertain a great regard,) if he were not made to do so, or at least strongly supported by another nation.

Shere Ali paid a visit to India and knows what English regiments and English arms are. Surely he would never dare to fight them by the sole aid of his own semi-trained troops and home-made weapons — he 1 Written in November, 1878. Introductory. 5 must have more sense than to do so. I must beg the reader's pardon for this digression, as it has nothing to do with the present story, the events of which occurred some years ago. Peshawur is, as I said before, a military and civil station, which in other words means a place containing barracks and troops, as well as the civil courts of law and civil functionaries — as Commissioner, Assistant- Commissioner, and their subordinates. Peshawur has also a very strongly-armed fort, and there are always two European infantry regiments, a detachment of artillery, two Bengal cavalry and two native infantry regiments quartered there, so that it has a large gar rison.

It is surrounded by a road called the "Circular Road," on which are posted sentries and guards at short distances. The " Circular Road " and " Mall " are almost the only drives ; the former is the prettiest, for from every part of it there is a view of the lovely hills, though military men hate riding on it on account of the perpetual salutes from the guards just mentioned. There is a very strict rule forbidding all subjects of the English government to go beyond the frontier forts without an armed escort, and after dusk no one is allowed even to go outside the Circular Road. The fact is, our neighbours, the Afghans, are not very peaceably inclined ; they have a way of play jng at soldiers, trying shots at you as they would at game. It is their mode of being civil and friendly I suppose, but we do not relish it much.

I cannot say that it is very pleasant, when you are out for a quiet ride across country of an evening, to hear a bullet whiz past you within a few inches of your head ; it at least startles your horse, if no more harm is done. Afghan children are taught to shoot at each other as soon as they can stand ; thus when they grow older they look upon shooting at stray Englishmen as an amusing pastime. They are also taught the use of the knife, which the Afghans always carry as soon as they can hold one. It is a dangerous weapon in their hands, and they are greater adepts at stabbing than shooting one another. They have such an ex traordinary "nonchalance" about life, they do not much care whether they live or die — they are fatalists, as indeed are all the natives of India, though the Indians are not so murderously inclined a race as the mountain tribes of whom I am speaking.

There is not a family known in a tribe that has not a "blood feud " with another family which lasts from genera tion to generation. The first principle the Afghan parent instils into his son is, that he is not to die until he has killed one of the family of the enemy ; often in revenge for an insult that we should think amply absolved when pardon was asked. In regard to their quarrels, one can truly say, manet alta mente repostum, is the feeling they en courage. The remembrance of their quarrels is Introductory. 7 deeply rooted in their minds. Pardon is not a word in their vocabulary ; they know not what it is to forgive one another, nor are they softened by Chris tian principles or Christian morals. Theirs is the religion of the false prophet who enforced his tenets with fire and sword, so different from the real and true " Prophet, Priest, and King," whose life and maxims taught peace and forgiveness.

At all events as a result of this, to our way of thinking extraordinary amusement, the rule before referred to was very necessary. Promises, they say, are made to be broken, and I think the same maxim applies to rules ; for as soon as anything becomes a rule or law, the instinctive opposition that exists in human nature excites people to break it, especially hot-headed young soldiers who always think they know better than their commanding officers, and that no harm can come to them. There are always one or two of this sort in every regiment ; and at Peshawur there was a small band whose delight it was to venture beyond the bounds on the plea of sport, to find some rare game they could find nowhere else. I think these few sport-loving young men must have been bound together by an agreement amongst themselves to break this rule against going beyond bounds whenever they felt inclined, to judge by their rashness and the scrapes they got into.

I must say they were manly fellows and the right stuff for soldiers. I do not believe in a milk-and-water man who never got into a scrape in his life. They are not the material for soldiers and life's real battle ; they may be valuable in a drawing-room, shine at a kettledrum, or an evening party forsooth, have plenty of small talk to entertain the ladies ; or, at their best, talk of the current topics of the day with their favourite news paper's view of it. They may make good domestic men, attentive husbands and kind fathers. We must not cry them down though too much, for we do not want every one to be a soldier or all men to be alike. In these days of competitive examinations I think there might almost be an examination, or inquiry I should say, into the scrapes each candidate has got into at school or college.

If they are right manly scrapes on the side of sport and honesty, let him pass for the army before the learned student to whom classics will avail little in his career as a soldier. As we shall have much to say about those young sports men who were very brave but rash and reckless, I must describe them. The moving spirit, I may call him the leader, was a fine, tall young man of about six-and-twenty, with fair hair and a long moustache ; he was a great athlete and sportsman, always to the fore in a long run with the hounds, no matter how steep the country or how wide the ravines. He did not know what fear is ; the horse he usually rode for an evening airing knew better how to gallop on his fore-legs than on all four, and yet Introductory. 9 he was never thrown. I think he would have ridden a wild elephant without fear, could he have once got within reach of his tail (the method by which the natives mount elephants).

Charles Gordon was a fine officer, and much liked by all the men of his regiment ; they admired and respected him although some of the older ones would shake their heads and prophesy that he would come to grief some day. Well, we shall see. Some of these harum-scarum young men do come to sad grief, whilst others have the most wonderful escapes, getting out of a thousand diffi culties, out of one of which it would take the lifetime of any steady-going individual to get clear. If I were to try to relate even one-half of the escapades of which Charles Gordon had been the hero before he had entered the army, I should have to write a volume about him only. But I do not wish to write his biography ; my intention is to record events concerning the lives of many during a year's residence in Peshawur, therefore I cannot say much more about him now.

His great friend in the regiment was very unlike him, as far as appearance went. Robert Hale was four years Charles Gordon's junior, but having no hair on his face at all, as a natural consequence looked younger. He was short, and had fair curly hair, and might have been taken for a boy of any age not beyond his teens. He had many of Charles' tastes, and was quite as fond of sport and manly exercises as he was. On account of his size and light weight he was a better hand at " Polo," and was devoted to that game ; for the same reason, added to his being a thoroughly good rider, he was in great request at all the races, and was engaged to ride his friends' horses months beforehand. Lucky the owner of the race-horse thought himself if he could get Robert Hale to ride for him. He was a first-rate amateur jockey and a lucky rider, and was always the favourite jockey with the ladies.

Many a pair of gloves did the unfortunate men lose over him to the fair sex, who were not only permitted to have the best of the bargain, but might be trusted to make a good one for themselves. After every suc cessful race Robert Hale was dragged up to the grand stand to receive the congratulations of the ladies. Yet if he was much more what we may call a "ladies' man" than Charles Gordon, he was not a bit foppish ; he was a man every inch of him. There was something scornful in the way in which Charles Gordon talked to ladies in general as if it were a trouble to him. In fact he was out of his element. A man at all inclined to extremely bachelor habits, has everything in India to encourage him. Ladies are so comparatively scarce, that it is more trouble to cultivate their acquaintance there than in England.

Robert Hale in the intervals of sport always liked Introductory. 11 to spend his time among his lady friends, and it was a good thing for him that he had some very good, kind friends whom he could see at any time ; Major and Mrs. Munro were his chief ones. The Major wasin his regiment, and so, of course, unless he took pains to get out of their way, in the ordinary course of events he would see them pretty often. He was drawn more to them than to many others from the beginning, partly because his mother was an old friend — in their school-days — of Mrs. Munro's, and had asked her to look after her son. Major and Mrs. Munro therefore, from the time Robert Hale joined the regiment at Peshawur, had treated him almost as their own son. A few months after reaching Peshawur, Robert Hale was down with fever, and a pretty sharp attack he had too — and the Munros took him into their house and nursed him through it and kept to him until he was quite well and strong.

This attack was a good lesson for him, and made him more careful in future. He had brought the fever entirely upon him self by his great rashness. He would go out in the middle of the day shooting, in a tiny cap. Mrs. Munro gave him many a lecture, with some good result ; she told him he was fortunate to have escaped so easily this time, for many a man had to go home on sick leave after Peshawur fever. This fever is of a very peculiar kind, and the after-effects sometimes last a lifetime. Many a young man's life in India might have been saved had they had such kind friends as the Munros were to Robert Hale in his illness. A young bachelor with no comforts in his bungalow, his furniture usually consisting of a bed, a table and a few chairs, has no one to give him food, and take care of him.

He always, when well, dines at mess, and from the mess-table his food must come. The climate is against him too ; so that many an English mother is left to mourn the loss of, a son who might have been spared that grief had her boy only had as kind a friend as Mrs. Munro was to Robert Hale.

Chapter II

A PAPER CHASE. THE 39th regiment was commanded by Colonel Lindsay, and he and Major Munro, who was second in command, were great friends ; a friendship to which Robert Hale owed something, for the Major had spoken a good word for him on several occasions when some mad freak had reached the Colonel's ears. The Colonel was a kind man ; the youngsters called him a " regular brick," as he invariably — outside duty — shut his ears whenever he could to their escapades. On duty he was their commanding officer, and they knew well no one had a sharper eye for any careless or wilful neglect than he had. On parade no one could be more particular than he was, for he expected every man to act as if he were preparing for immediate service. The consequence of this was that he obtained no end of " Kudos" from inspecting officers, and his regiment was always ready for inspection.

Colonel Lindsay was not only a strict parade officer, but he loved his regiment next to his wife, and took the greatest trouble and interest in the whole working of its machinery. He knew, too, that the curse of the British soldier in India, viz., " idleness," was the root of most of the evils which befall him. The soldiers who were idly inclined, were sure to be those who were most easily tempted by boon companions to waste both time and money in drink. I suppose I ought almost to say that drinking is the root of all the evil, and so no doubt it is, for it leads to ill-health and entire bodily and moral demoralisation everywhere. In a hot country like India, a man whose whole frame is shattered by excess in drink is surely not likely to be able to withstand the ravages of fever and disease, so common there, so well as one who is abstemious, and consequently possessed of all his faculties of mind and body.

Colonel Lindsay, in order to extirpate this evil at its root, used his whole energy to give occupation to the men, and encourage them to work for their own amusement and profit, and so occupy their spare time. The Indian days are long and weary to soldiers, as they are to others ; and to be cooped up in barracks all day with nothing to do, as they usually are the greater part of the year, is so trying that it is no wonder they drink to kill the time that hangs so heavily on their hands. The men of the 39th had no excuse for being idle, for they had every incentive to work according to their tastes. Colonel Lindsay did not undertake all that he did for the soldiers single-handed. Major Munro took an equal interest in it, and their example inspired the younger officers also to help and give some of their time to the soldiers.

Each of these officers had one department to super intend, of which he was the referee on all occasions. The workshop was the most crowded, and the largest room of all. There, all kinds of car pentering were done, from fancy chairs and tables to packing cases. The sergeant who was in charge of it had learned the trade, and was of the great est use to many a young man who came in to try his hand at work with a very small knowledge of plane or saw. Then there were the gardens, where they worked night and morning, the produce of which they were allowed to sell. There was a little vegetable market in the early morning, twice a week, where many a lady's " khansamah " 1 would be seen, even daring to beat the soldiers down in the prices they asked. A native cannot understand that any one should mean what he says, especially in money matters.

For instance, if the soldier seller— or his wife perhaps may keep the market-stall — should say when asked " This cabbage is two annas," the audacious native servant would be certain to take it up and say, 1 Butler. " Hum turn ko ek anna dega, bus hai,"1 and march off triumphantly with it at his price. Their ways used to provoke amusement among the soldiers, more than anger, as they were so accustomed to them ; but occasionally a little bad language ensued, as the natives were sometimes too aggravating to permit the straightforward Englishman to keep his temper. This little vegetable-market was a great boon to the English residents, as they were enabled by it to get nice English vegetables easily ; and it especially benefited the soldiers' families who had no gardens. Another incentive to good gardening was the annual flower show, at which prizes were given for the finest flowers and vegetables.

There was a library and reading-room in the regi ment for the soldiers, as well as a gymnasium, a band room, and a department for those who worked in leather, and even a room devoted to the tailoring and needlework branch. There was also a class-room, where a class was held by one of the officers for the younger men, in which both the Colonel and Major often had readings of an evening. They also used to get up " Penny Readings " about once a month in the sergeant's mess, which were looked forward to and enjoyed by all, and some of the ladies of the regiment used to attend them. The unfortunate soldiers' wives, who are more to be pitied in India than the soldiers themselves, were not forgotten. 1 I will give you one anna, that is quite enough. They had a work-room to themselves which was large and comfortable, in which they could do any kind of needlework.

Some of the women were dress makers, and others washerwomen, and full employ ment they found, notwithstanding the " Dirzees " and " Dhobees" that Anglo-Indians swear by. We have now seen that Colonel Lindsay's regiment was quite a model to all others, and he and his officers were as thoroughly popular as they deserved to be with the men. Really, the lines of the 39th were worth inspection, and all agreed in saying "They were a lucky lot." Colonel Lindsay was a married man, but his wife was in England at this time ; she was to join him at Peshawur at the beginning of the next cold season with their eldest daughter. There were four ladies now with the regiment, including the Quartermaster's wife and daughter. The Quartermaster's wife in a European regiment, is rarely a lady by birth, although considered to be in society when her husband has attained the rank of a commissioned officer and been made Quartermaster.

For he then dines at mess, and associates with the officers, and his wife must naturally be on visiting terms with the ladies in the regiment at least ; although unless she be superior to the ordinary stamp, few outside it recognise her. Mrs. O'Dowd, the Quartermaster's wife of the 39th, was a worthy woman who had struggled hard C to bring up a large family on small means ; more over they were all in India, no small test of her discretion and good sense. No country can be more trying to bring up children in, both bodily and morally, than India. The O'Dowds had eight, and all were with them. Their eldest daughter was seventeen, and she had been home for a short period and had just returned. Miss O'Dowd was the only unmarried girl in the regiment. The Adjutant, Captain Chaplin, was married ; he had a charming and very pretty little wife ; they had been married only a few months.

He met her in the hills — at Murree — the year before, and became en gaged. She was the daughter of what they call a " faltoo Colonel," who was spending six months with his family in the hills. What an easy-going life these faltoo Colonels do lead out there ! They can always get six months' leave to the hills or Cashmere, and when they are in the plains in the winter have little to do except attend occasional " courts of inquiry," and " courts martial." Mrs. Chaplin was eighteen when she married, only a few months older than Miss O'Dowd. This young lady had little fasci nation of manner to compensate for her somewhat angular figure and hard-featured face, for pre viously to a short stay at a second-rate school at home, she had passed all her time in the barracks. Still Miss O'Dowd had come out with the impression that she was to be the attraction in the regiment, and would monopolise the attentions of the stern sex.

Great was her mortification, when Mrs. Chaplin appeared on the scene a few weeks after her own arrival from England, to find that the adjutant's wife was a greater favourite than herself. It would be useless to give way to fits of jealousy, for no one would pay attention to them ; indeed she was hardly noticed when taking no pains to conceal her mortifi cation ; she would make spiteful little speeches about Mrs. Chaplin, equally unheeded. Mrs. Chaplin would have befriended the girl, who would have been far wiser had she accepted the offers of friendship in stead of scorning them. The secret of Miss O'Dowd's extreme jealousy of Mrs. Chaplin was, the fact that almost immediately after her arrival she imagined herself to be violently in love with a certain young Lieutenant. This gentleman, however, it should be said, had not returned her affection, for one very certain reason— he was not aware of it.

It would no doubt have been very much better for Miss O'Dowd had she remained with her mother instead of going to the school ; for her head must have been crammed full of nonsense there or she would not have thought that the first young man who showed her any civility was in love with her. Mr. O'Dowd was himself rather popular with the young officers, and always did them a good turn when he could ; and so Robert Hale, like any other good natured man, offered to lend his daughter a pony C and take her for a ride, soon after her arrival. He was a good-looking youth, and an immense favourite with the galaxy of rank and beauty of Peshawur, so the fault was not his if Miss O'Dowd should instantly fall in love with him. Robert Hale had never said or done anything to encourage such an idea; he had only shown her the ordinary gallantry which every true gentleman shows to a gentlewoman.

Thus she had only herself to blame. Robert Hale was the last man in the world to flirt with a girl when as in this case nothing serious could be his intention. The connexion of all this with Mrs. Chaplin is this: Robert Hale from the time the Adjutant brought his wife to the regiment was constantly with them. The Chaplins liked him, and used constantly to ask him to join their rides, and dine with them. Miss O'Dowd, therefore, put all her imaginary blighted hopes down to Mrs. Chaplin's influence, and so was madly jealous of her. I must say her jealousy did that lady little harm. It was really too absurd. Robert Hale was not the only man at Peshawur, and as has been said had never led the young lady to suppose that he admired her at all. Another sore point with Miss O'Dowd was Mrs. Chaplin's good riding, and the praise she heard of it from all quarters.