Read Ebook: Three Months of My Life by Foster J F John Frederick Freeth Lizzie A Editor

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AUGUST 19th.--Back to Atchibul, twelve miles, the road for the most part level, but there was one mile of very hard work, over the ridge I crossed yesterday. I approached Atchibul from the hill I mentioned as standing at the head of the garden, and from the top of it a very pretty view of the place is obtained. I found the pavilion unoccupied, and again took possession of it, set the fountains playing, and imagined myself the Great Mogul. Just out of Vernag, I caught a small black and yellow bird, which my boatman calls a "bulbul" and says it sings very well. I have had a cage made for it, and it is now feeding at my side, and is apparently very happy. I'll try and take it to England. I believe it is only one of the shrike family, but it is too young to identify at present. However, it is my fancy to keep it, so why should I not. The old gardener here is very attentive, constantly bringing me fruit. Shall I do him injustice, by saying that he probably has expectation of a reward? I think not indeed, is it not the same expectation or its allied motive, the desire to escape punishment, which prompts the actions of all of us? We do good, I fear, more for the sake of the promised recompense, than for any love of the thing itself. Light rain has fallen all day.

AUGUST 21st.--Marched back to Kunbul, seven miles, and took up my quarters again on board the boat, fifteen or twenty other boats are here, a good many visitors having recently arrived in this part of Kashmir. I remained at Kunbul all day waiting for the completion of a pair of chuplus which I ordered of a shoemaker ten days ago. I have occupied the time by reading Marryat's "Newton Forster" and I find that when I read I can't write, so that must be my excuse for the shortness of my notes. My head is full of ships, sea fights, and love making to the exclusion of everything else. I heard you--you said it was a good job, as it prevented me writing more nonsense.

AUGUST 22nd.--Slowly drifting all day down the stream towards Sreenuggur. Past Bijbehara with its fine bridge, stopping there a short time to procure milk and eggs for breakfast. Past Awuntipoor--the former capital--but now only a very small village, where stands on the rivers bank the ruins of two ancient Hindoo temples, square blocks, built indeed of enormous stones, but without sufficient architectural embellishment to require a closer inspection than I obtained from the boat. Another of those charming lazy days on the water, nothing to think about, but the time for meals, nothing to do, but to eat them when prepared. The eastern part of Kashmir is covered with high isolated mounds called Kuraywahs, composed of Alluvium, presenting perfectly flat summits and precipitous sides. The top of these was doubtless the original bed of the lake at the time when the whole valley was submerged, and the present channels between them were cut by the rush of the water, when the Jhelum burst through the opening at Baramula and drained the valley. This rush then is shown to have been impetuous but it seems to me that the mere breaking through of the stream sixty or seventy miles away is not enough to account for it. No doubt that occurrence was attended, I may say produced by violent subterranean phenomena; and I imagine that this portion of the vale--which is much higher than the western half--then underwent a sudden upheaval, the result of which if only a few feet would be to throw its waters with terrific force into the lower portion and afford an easy explanation of the formation of both the Kuraqwahs and the Jhelum. I noticed in my course up the Jhelum, that it appeared to have originally consisted of a chain of small lakes, this would be the the natural effect of such a cause as I have supposed. The bulk of water, at first, would only have been sufficient to produce a few of them, perhaps only the large one between Gingle and Baramula. But as its quantity and measure continually increased by the flow from the higher level so would lake after lake have been formed among the crowded hills until the plains were reached. Then the drainage of these small lakes would follow as a matter of course, and the channel of the river be reduced to a size proportionate to its constant supply. Dear reader, you are very difficult to please. My descriptions you call slow, my imaginings frivolous, science dry. Jokes are feeble and personalities tedious morality is stale, religion is cant. What, how can I write? You have had a taste of all and if you are not content the fault is--well, let me be on the safe side--either yours or mine.

AUGUST 25th.--Lying down inside my tent I just now heard two crows chuckling and laughing in their way and saying to one another "here's a joke" or caws to that effect. You need not laugh at this statement or think that my mind has suddenly become deranged, I merely state a fact. The language of animals--dumb creatures as fools call them--is far more expressive than you imagine, and if you had spent the same time and the same attention that I have in listening to birds notes, you would be able to understand much of their meaning. Here a conversation carried on in a foreign tongue, one to which you a perfect stranger, will you be able to distinguish words? No! you will only hear a confusion of sounds possessing apparently but little variety. But as you become accustomed to it the words and syllables will start out into clear relief; so with birds songs--at first they will appear to you to be always the same, but they have really different tones and meanings, which you may learn to appreciate by studying them in connection with their acts. However I heard the crows say "here's a joke" and guessing I was to be the victim of it, I immediately jumped up and rushed out. They flew away loudly exulting and I found my match box,--which I had left on the table broken to pieces and the matches carefully distributed so as to cover as large a space of ground as possible; there is a crow's joke for you--there is not much in it as a joke,--but I introduce it principally to show that birds talk and that I can understand them. I wrote the foregoing to eke out my notes for the day, not having anything particular to record. When the Baboo called upon me with the startling intelligence, all officers from the Peshawur division ordered immediately to rejoin their respective regiments; this has taken away the greater number of the visitors and very few are now left in Kashmir. Why don't I pack up and start? Well, I forgot to mention a short sentence in the order "except those on medical certificate" which saves me the trouble and annoyance of hurrying back before the expiration of my leave. It is on account, I suppose, of the little war we have entered on with those hill tribes, and I may be missing honour and glory, wounds and death, neither of which I care to earn from barbarians on the black mountains. I am sorry for the affair as I fear that from the inaccessibility of the country the best result will barely escape disaster. This is a strange day. You see me, one moment trifling with my thoughts for the sake of occupation and then having matters and subjects for the deepest consideration suddenly thrust upon me. Ought I to rejoin? I am indeed protected from the necessity of doing so, but my health is now fully established and such being the case, is it my duty to waive my right and return to my regiment. I think not, for the reason it is not likely that they will weaken the garrison at Peshawur by sending any of its troops into the field. Its strength is maintained for the purpose of defence against the Cabulese and other powerful Pathan tribes immediately surrounding it, who are deadly enemies, and would be eager to avail themselves of any opportunity for offence. Therefore I imagine that my regiment will remain in quarter, and do just as well without me as with me; and therefore have I determined to adhere to my original plans.

AUGUST 26th.--There was a great fire in the town last night; three hundred houses have been destroyed. I went early to the scene of the disaster, which is on the left bank of the river adjoining the first bridge. The embers were still smouldering, and among the ruins the heat was intense, owing to the houses having been built almost entirely of wood, little but ashes and charred logs remained of them. Here and there a few hot bricks retained the semblance of a wall, but the destruction has been as complete as it is excessive. The bridge has also suffered, the bank pier having been attacked by the flames, and half the railing on either side of the foot-way has been torn off and precipitated into the water. The latter injury was caused I imagine, by the rush of the crowd over it at the time of the fire. No lives lost I believe.

AUGUST 27th.--At six o'clock this morning a Jemindar or military officer made his appearance, sent by the Baboo, for the purpose of conducting me over the fort. A row of a mile down the river, and half a mile walk through the narrow rough crowded and stinking streets of the town brought us to the outworks, at the foot of the hill on which it is built. This hill is very steep and several hundred feet high, and the climb up it was fatiguing. From the top there is an extensive view, but the morning was misty and the greater part of the valley indiscernible. In front lies the town, intersected by the Jhelum; a great desert of mud-covered roofs presenting anything but the green carpet-like appearance described in books. On the left long lines of poplars, enclosing the Moonshi Bagh and the various encamping grounds, with the Tukh-t-i-Suliman rising high above them. Behind, the Dul, spread out like a sheet of silver with the back ground of mountains, and many canals radiating and glistening in the sun-light. Of the fort I have but little to say. From below, its position renders it imposing, but a nearer inspection dispels the illusion. Inside it there is a Hindoo temple, two or three tanks filled with green, slimy water, and some wretched hovels for the occupation of the garrison. The ramparts though high are weak and a few shells dropped within them would blow the whole place to pieces. The ordnance consists of four ancient brass guns; two of them about 9-pounders and the others 32-pounders, but I did not see a spot from which either of them could be safely fired; and even if there were bastions strong enough, I doubt if cannon could be depressed sufficiently to sweep the precipitous sides of the hill. On my way back to the boat, I turned aside to visit the Jumma Musjid, or chief Mosque, a large quadrangular wooden building, the roof of which is supported by deodar columns of great height, each pillar being cut out of a single tree, but I cannot waste more time over it, the name recalls to my memory the magnificent Jumma Musjid of Delhi--but comparisons are odious. When parting with my attendant I felt uncertain whether or no he would be offended by the offer of a remuneration for his trouble, so I left him to ask for it, as natives usually do not scruple to request "bucksheesh" for the most trifling service, but either his orders or his dignity prevented him from soliciting it, and he went away unrewarded and I doubt not dissatisfied. After noon I went and selected a lot of papier mach? articles, and gave monograms to be painted upon them. Their papier mach? is fairly made, elaborately painted and moderate in price. At this shop they prepared some lad?k tea for me, a most delicious beverage possessing a delicate flavour such as I have never before tasted in any tea. It was sweetened with a sort of sweet-meat in lieu of plain sugar.

AUGUST 28th.--A blank day, I have done nothing but fish and only caught one of moderate size. Early in the morning there was a storm attended with high wind and heavy rain; it cleared up before sun-rise, but its effect has been to make the day very pleasantly cool.

SEPTEMBER 1st.--Up and away, taking a last look at the town and bridges, a last look at the Tukh-t-i-Suliman while floating down the river. I am on my way to Baramula, having given up my intended visit to Gulmurg, so that I may get a week at Murree, and see more of the place than I did when I was last there. Adieu to Sreenuggur, adieu to the Scind, adieu to Manusbul; gently onwards we go towards lake Wulloor. It is a bright clear day, one of the brightest among the many bright ones, and the valley seems smiling upon me an affectionate farewell in order that the last recollections and parting scene may be a joyful memory to me in days and years to come. I thank thee for it. When I am gone let rain-tears fall and clouds of care bewail my absence, but gladden my departing moments with the full radiance of thy glorious countenance. Oh! Kashmir, loveliest spot on earth, I owe thee a deep debt of gratitude, I came to thee weak in body; thou hast restored my strength, I was poor in thought; thou hast filled my heart with good things, I was proud in conceit; thou hast shown me nature's grandeur and my own littleness. With a voiceless tongue thou hast spoken and my spirit has heard the unuttered words. Tales of the creation when the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy; tales of man and his works perished in the endless roll of ages; tales of the future when heaven and earth shall have passed away amid the dread terror of the great tribulation. Aye, and one more tale, a tale of love, mercy, and forgiveness; the tale of an Asiatic--who, not far from here, was once "bruised for our transgressions," who took upon Himself the iniquities of us all and made up for us a mighty deliverance, and to this tale there is a refrain that echoes from hill to hill, and spreads along the plain in endless repetition, "believe only and thou shalt be saved," but though the command is so simple, its eager passionate tone as it swells around me, and an earnest mournful cadence as it dies away in the distance, seems to imply that it is neither easily nor commonly obeyed.

SEPTEMBER 2nd.--Awoke early and found myself in the broad waters of the lake, the full moon shining brightly in the west, and yet unpaled by the rosy dawn that was rapidly illuminating the east. Stopped at Sopoor for breakfast, and Macnamara, surgeon of the 60th Rifles, and his wife, arrived soon after me, also bound for Murree. Macnamara was at Peshawur with me, and was one of the committee that sent me away. We passed the morning in conversation, and at mid-day continued our journey to Baramula. He told me that he had heard that I was going home this winter with troops; but I do not know whether his information is reliable. I trust it may prove to be so, but it has not raised my hopes to a certainty. It is a good rule never to reckon confidently upon the achievement of our desires. It never assists to realise them and only renders the disappointment more bitter in case of failure. I have a great hope, but I do not forget that obstacles may arise, that while man proposes God disposes, and often find myself forming plans for next year under the supposition that I shall still remain in India. I have written the dedication of this volume and have written it as if I had already returned to England, and this may appear to indicate that I rely strongly upon the fulfilment of my expectation. But not so, I can alter or destroy it if need be, and shall do so with regret indeed, but without despair. About halfway between Sopoor and Baramula the wind increased to a gale and obliged me to take refuge under the bank. I dined with Macnamara and his wife at 8 o'clock, the weather moderated and we proceeded to Baramula.

SEPTEMBER 3rd.--At sunrise I obtained coolies, and turned my back on the happy valley for ever. It was a beautiful morning with a golden haze rising from the ground, the mountains appearing blue and purple against the eastern halo; but before I had gone a mile a dark cloud gathered around me, and wept passionate rain. I marched to Naoshera, ten miles, followed in an hour by Dr. and Mrs. Macnamara who will be my fellow travellers as far as Murree. The Rohale ferry is re-opened and I am returning by the direct road on the left bank of the Jhelum. There is a barahduree at every stage, so I sold my tent at Sreenuggur to render my baggage lighter. I am travelling with only six coolies. The river is much lower and less rapid than when I came up it, the excess of water caused by the melting of the snow during the summer having been carried off. It is still however a noisy turbulent torrent.

SEPTEMBER 4th.--A long march of fourteen miles to Ooree. The road is becoming very hilly, but is not as yet nearly so rough and difficult as on the other side. Passed two ruins; one of then very similar to those at Wangut, but much smaller.

SEPTEMBER 5th.--To Chukoti, sixteen miles, a severe and fatiguing march, the hills being intersected by ravines--the beds of streams--to all of which there was a steep descent and corresponding ascent. This is the worst march on the Murree road, but though bad, it is much better than five or six that I described on my journey from Abbottabad. These long marches are very detrimental to my diary, for at the conclusion I have no energy either to think or write. I am not using my dandy now, and have to walk every inch of the way.

SEPTEMBER 7th.--Got up at daybreak and marched on Chikar, distance ten miles. For three miles the road continued along the valley of the Jhelum, and then turned to the south, and crossed several ranges of hills, each range rising higher than the one before, very hard work it was, the ascents being so steep and long--I can't keep my breath going up hill; it is far more fatiguing than any roughness of road. Chikar is a good sized village with a fort and is situated on the summit of a mountain at least two thousand feet above the Jhelum. There is a fine view of the surrounding hills from the Barahduree. Shortly after our arrival it began to rain, and has turned out a wet day. I had half my crockery broken by the coolie dropping the basket instead of putting it carefully down at the conclusion of the march.

SEPTEMBER 9th.--To Dunee, eight and a half miles; first half, down hill, second up: both very steep and rough. A bad fatiguing march. The barahduree here has been lately white-washed and looks quite refreshing after the other dirty ones; but the rooms are ridiculously small. This is the last halt in Kashmirian territory; to-morrow we shall be in a d?k bungalow. I had a lesson to-day. The same lesson that the spider taught Bruce--never to cease striving to obtain any desired object; and not despair even if frequent failures attend the attempt. Ever since I left Baramula I have been endeavouring to catch another of the green butterflies, as beetles had eaten my first specimen. But they are very alert on the wing, and I could not get near one. The last two or three marches I had not seen any, having got out of their locality, but to-day a solitary one flew by me and I knocked it down, caught it, and secured it in my toper. Success will eventually crown all constant endeavours, it is a slight peg on which to hang a moral, but let it pass. Life is made up of trifles, and I desire my book to represent my life. A number of people--ladies, men, and children--came into the bungalow at 2 o'clock, having made a double march and overtaken us; so we are very closely packed, even the verandah being occupied.

SEPTEMBER 10th.--To Kohala, six miles, nearly all the way down a terribly steep and rough hill to the banks of the Jhelum--which river has taken a great bend among the mountains and now runs at right angles to its former course. A ferry boat crosses the torrent at this spot and the passage during the summer is attended with considerable danger, as the stream runs at the rate of twenty miles an hour. I got my baggage in it and landed upon British soil at the other side. The D?k bungalow is just above, but we were very much crowded as all the other people remained for the night. After dinner a great thunderstorm took place accompanied with very heavy rain.

HAZOR SALAAM.

JANUARY 16th, 1869.--If these notes should ever be written out by my relations after my death--for I am now like to die, let me beg that the many mistakes in spelling, consequent upon the hurry and roughness of the writing, may by corrected and not set down to ignorance.

LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS.

Prince Frederic of Schleswig Holstein. His Excellency Lieut.-General E. Frome, R.E., Governor of Guernsey. Sir P. Stafford Carey, Bailiff of Guernsey. Edgar MacCulloch, Esq., Lieutenant-Bailiff. William Wallace Armstrong, Esq., San Francisco. A.B. Mrs. Boucaut, Guernsey. General Sir George Brooke, K.C.B., R.H.A. Lieut.-Col. H.J. Buchanan, 2-9th Regiment. Major Henry L. Brownrigg, 84th Regiment. Henry S.R. Bagenal, Esq., Control Department. Captain George P. Beamish, 36th Regiment. Mr. George Beedle, Quarter-Master 6th Regiment. A. Brown, Esq., National Provincial Bank of England. J. P. Bainbrigge, Esq., Bank of England, Liverpool. J. Banckes, Esq., Shipwrecked Mariners' Society. Mrs. Crawford, Guernsey. Mrs. Cunnynghame, Edinburgh. W. Collins, Esq., M.D., Scots Fusilier Guards. Mrs. Cave, Hartley Whitney, Hants. Captain G. Collis, 6th Regiment. Colonel Conran, Fitzroy, Melbourne. H. Couling, Esq., Brighton. H. Cuppaidge, Esq. Miss Dugdale, 75, Gloucester Terrace, Hyde Park, W. Miss E. Donne, Grove Terrace Highgate. Miss Donne, Salisbury. James D'Altera, Esq., M.D. James Deane, Esq., Queenstown, Cork. W.G. Don, Esq., M.D. Dr. Drewitt, Wimborne, Dorset. Dr. Dudfield, 8, Upper Phillimore Place, Kensington, W. B. De Marylski, Esq., Royal Artillery. Captain P. De Saumarez, Guernsey. Captain D.K. Evans, 6th Regiment. Mrs. W. Foster, 7, Lower Berkeley Street, London. Mrs. E. Foster, 10, Chester Terrace, Regent's Park. Mrs. Feilden, Isle of Herm. Major-Gen. Sampson Freeth, late Royal Engineers. Major-Gen. James H. Freeth, late Royal Engineers. Colonel Foster, late 16th Lancers. The Rev. W. Foran, Guernsey. Walter Freeth Esq., Croydon. Henry Foster Esq., Victoria Road, Kensington. Patterson Foster, Esq. Kingsly, O. Foster, Esq. Mrs. F.W. Gosselin, Guernsey. Rev. F. Giffard, The Vicarage, Hartley Wintney. John C. Guerin, Esq., Guernsey. S.M. Gully, Esq., 9th Regiment. F.L. Grundy, Esq., 6th Regiment. M. Garnier, Guernsey. Mrs. Horridge. Lieut.-Col. Fitzwilliam Hunter, 36th Regiment. T. Holmes, Esq., 18, Great Cumberland Place, Hyde Park. Captain J.B. Hopkins, 6th Regiment. Reginald Hollingworth, Esq., late 77th Regiment. T. Husband, Esq., 34, Argyle Road, Kensington. Charles Hogge, Esq., 6th Regiment.

In Memoriam. Miss B.S.H. Coventry Jeffery. Captain A.H. Josselyn, 9th Regiment. J.W. Jones, Esq., 5th Dragoon Guards. The Rev. Charles Kingsley, M.A. Mr. J. Kenwood, Hartley Wintney. Mrs. Le Marchant Thomas Le Marchant, Guernsey. Miss Lefebvre, Guernsey. Mrs. La Serre, Guernsey. Sir T. Galbraith Logan, K.C.B., Director General. Thomas Lacy, Esq., Guernsey. Major R.B. Lloyd, 36th Regiment. "Library," Officers, 36th Regiment. Mr. Thomas Lenfestey, Guernsey. Mrs. MacPherson, Guernsey. Mrs. Mogg, Clifton. Mrs. Peter Martin, Guernsey. Mrs. Myers, Guernsey. A.D. MacGregor, Esq., Guernsey. Capt. A.E. Morgan, late 71st Highland Lt. Inf. Captain J.W. Massey, 9th Regiment. J.W. Morgan, Esq., 6th Regiment. James E. Macdonnel, Esq., 9th Regiment. W.H. Marriot, Esq., 36th Regiment. S.M. Maxwell, Esq., 36th Regiment. A. Morgan, Esq., Treasurer, S.W. Railway. The Mess, 36th Regiment. W. Moullin, Esq., Clifton. Miss A.M. Newman, Cheltenham. The Rev. E.J. Ozanne, M.A., Guernsey. Captain J. Osmer, 36th Regiment. E.F. O'Leary, Esq., 6th Regiment. Mrs. Joshua Priaulx, Guernsey. Mr. Charles Palmer, Hartley Wintney. Miss M. Pittard Guernsey. Colonel Priaulx, Guernsey. Colonel Lewis Peyton. G. Pollock, Esq., 36, Grosvenor Street, London, W. C.W. Poulton, Esq., 35th Regiment. G. Pound; Esq., Odiham, Hants. Mrs. Ramsay, Isle of Sark. John Roberts, Esq., M.D., Guernsey. George M. Richmond, Esq., 36th Regiment. J.L. Rose, Esq., 36th Regiment. Mrs. Sandes, St. John's Hill, London, S.W. Mrs. R. Smith, Guernsey. Lieut.-Col. R. Scott, Fort George, Aberdeen. Major Charles Stirling, late Royal Artillery. Dr. Fowler Smith, District Recruiting Office, Peterborough. Capt. C. Spurgeon, 36th Regiment. Capt. H. Stopford, 36th Regiment. W. Smail, Esq., 36th Regiment. R.B. Smyth, Esq., M.B. 102d Regiment. Mrs. Threllfall, Ferryside, South Wales. Capt. C. Townsend, Royal Artillery. D. Thorburn, Esq., M.D., 8th Hussars. Mrs. Wren, 3 Paris Square, Bayswater. Charles Williams, Esq., Guernsey. Watkin S. Whylock, Esq., M.D., Assist.-Surgeon. Capt. H. Webb, 36th Regiment. Mr Wetheral, Oak Lodge, Winchfield. Netley Library. And "Others received too late for publication."

LE LIEVRE, PRINTER, STAR-OFFICE, BORDAGE-STREET.

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