Continuation of Military Memoir or Personal Narrative. SHORTLY after the close of the Punjaub campaign several appointments were offered me. I ultimately accepted an appointment to the horse artillery, and during the next six or seven years continued to serve with that distinguished branch of the service. During that period I served with three of the four native troops, then forming an item of the thirteen troops of Bengal Horse Artillery in the service, and as such troops are now never seen, a few words on this branch may not be amiss.

Our old horse artillery might more properly have been designated cavalry batteries; "flying" artillery they might well be called, and the native portion especially regarded as gallopers to accompany irregular cavalry, and I don't know that any nation has been ever able to produce better "Cossack" Artillery than the native troops of the old Bengal H.A. Nothing could ever be said against the efficiency of these troops, either in the field or quarters; and they had enemies who would not have let pass the opportunity to disparage them. In the field, always to the front, their officers never failed to have the highest praise for them. Usually in the "flying columns" of those days, and called out for any sudden daur or dash, where celerity of movement was required, these were just the men for it; a bag of flour hung on their saddle bow was sufficient commissariat for these poor fellows for a campaign. Whilst on this subject I may mention, in regard to their powers of marching, that it is on record that during the pursuit of Holkar into the Punjaub by Lord Lake, in A.D. 1817-18, the cavalry

and native horse artillery marched, on an average, thirty-three miles a day for ten days, and made a forced march of seventy-two miles the day they "ran into" Holkar. This will speak for the mobility of this fine arm; nor had they degenerated in my time-indeed, my opinion of these troops was, and is, that they were never surpassed for celerity, staunchness in serving their guns, good conduct, and soldier-like qualities generally; and in those respects, quite on a par with their European comrades of that glorious old regiment the Bengal Horse Artillery*

During this period of my service I led a life of much content; my duties were light, and in the hot season I could frequently obtain long leave "to the hills." I freely availed myself of the privilege, and hunted the mighty Himalayas-especially Cashmere-to my heart's content. Separate journals of several of these trips are still in my possession, and recall ample details of the hunter's life of those early days in Cashmere-I speak of 1851-2. Never to be forgotten are many of the scenes of wild sublimity or joyous forest camp life then experienced. Rifle and sketch book often my only companions, what glorious forests and mountains I have roamed, with an eye also to the antiquities and half-hidden histories of the countries traversed; especially of the fair valley of Cashmere, whose history I believe I was, in those days, amongst the first to investigate at the fountain head. Indeed, at the suggestion of Sir Henry Lawrence, I drew up a "Sketch of the History of Cashmere," published in the journal of the Asiatic Society of Bengal in 1854. To this day I am not aware that any history of that country (except, perhaps, a translation of the Raja Taringini) has been published. The notes taken on those occasions form the experiences on which the first two sections of "The Highlands of India" are based. I undertook, also (and partly carried out), a military survey of the country, but found too many impediments; and beyond a few sketches of ground, and a survey of the "passes" into the valley, did not mature

It may be interesting to record a few other remarkable marches or daurs which I find I happen to have noted, as follows:-In 1869 Count Borkh, of the Russian service, with seventy Cossacks, marched one hundred and thirty-three miles in two days, and, continuing his attack, returned in six days without any loss in men or horses, having covered three hundred and thirty-three miles in six days (only two horses lame). In May, 1870, he again, with one hundred and fifty Cossacks, sixty mounted rifles, and one gun, marched two hundred and sixty-six miles in six days (twelve horses sore backs).

it. I made several other explorations of various hill districts, which have been reproduced in the course of the sections on the "Kôhisthán of the Punjaub," forming Volume II. of "The Highlands of India."

Whilst with my troop in the plains "ready, aye ready," for a long gallop in the wild jungles, or, if in the hills, for a climb over the snows and rocks of the passes and peaks of those grand mountains. My wanderings and sylvan adventures in those days were multiform: Are they not written in the Chronicles of Cashmere and the Kôhisthan of the Punjaub?

In those days our camps of artillery practice were most valuable. During the two cold-weather months (December and January) we used to join in at some central camp, and I verily believe that a gunner of those days acquired more practical knowledge of his profession in one season, than we do now, under the modern régime, during years. Possibly I may be prejudiced, and regarded as a laudator temporis acti; but all things considered, "I remain loyal to my first love," and believe that the old service was best adapted to the work it had to perform in India. Cheap, effective, animated with a glorious morale and esprit de corps, the fine old regiment never failed. We were all contented and happy in those days, and feeling we were looked up to, and well used by our honest old master, John Company, we, in return, gave him our zealous services, and contrived to make our comparatively slender numbers and matériel do the work of twice or three times their strength. In an evil day (as I think) occurred amalgamation, and consequent absorption into a vast service where we are lost, and can scarcely be expected to retain much esprit de corps.* Let me pass on, however, to more personal matters-hog hunting, shooting, military exercises; severe study at times-both professional and general-was my "way of life" at this period of my service, during which time I went over much country. I never could get on without a lot of exercise, and it was a

* In writing the above let me not be thought to disparage that splendid service, the British Royal Artillery. Such would be a mere impertinence, and unjust, and untrue to boot. In many ways, such as discipline and matèriel, the service has been greatly improved by amalgamation, which moreover, has introduced uniformity, a sine quâ non of the service on its present footing. Far be it from me, also, not to acknowledge the general fair treatment we have experienced at the hands of our new masters; but an old Indian gunner must be pardoned his sigh-may-be, growl-after the old order of things-nous revenons toujours à nos premiers amours. [The above was written twenty years ago, 1872. I should be ungrateful not to acknowledge the fair treatment since that date.]

daily habit of mine, as soon as evening had set in, to mount my horse and ride out free and far towards the setting sun. A pause to see him sink, and then a gallop back to camp as fast as the ground permitted, to dress for mess. Such was my "habit of life" for years of my "Quarter of a Century in the Punjaub."

My experience in the field of warfare, however, was not much at that time, though, indeed, several long marches across the Punjaub with various troops of horse artillery were not devoid of professional instruction.

In 1854 I fell into command of my troop, and held it for two yearsa good position for a subaltern, albeit of twelve years' standing. It was the old distinguished troop-4/3 B.H.A.-which, whilst in Shah Shooja's service, dragged its guns, in sledges, over the cliffs of the Hindoo Kush, landing them safely in the Bamêan valley, where they served in the victory and capture of Dost Mahomed Khan, of Caubul. The traditions and prestige of those and subsequent services were still strong in this really fine and warlike troop, and I, for one, was proud of them. In 1856-the year before the mutiny-being compelled by ill-health to go on sick furlough to England-I parted from them in fine condition and discipline, in every way, though native troopers, as fine a body of mounted men as any service could have produced. On my return through the same station (Mooltan) in 1858-9, after the mutiny, I found only seven of them alive. They had mutinied and been cut to pieces in the interim.

The catastrophe is too long to narrate, and too painful to dwell onsuffice to say that they, like many other loyal bodies of native troops in those days, had an impossible hand to play, and played it badly. They had remained loyal, and even executed mutinous sepoys at their cannons' mouth, when the order came to disarm them. Considering themselves dishonoured, they enacted a foolish part and rose in despair long after all hope of success had passed, and-with the few exceptions named, who happened to be on some detached duties as orderlies, &c.-they were cut to pieces. 'Twas pity for so fine a body of men; but I say nothing against the policy which deprived them of their guns-the flag they (literally) worshipped, and by the side of which they would have died*

* They actually and literally worshipped and sacrificed to their guns. I was once present (being commanding officer, as a sort of duty) on one of these occasions, when a goat was sacrificed at the muzzle of each gun, which, as well as the officers' and non-commissioned officers' chargers, was sprinkled with the blood. It was a long pagan ceremony, and I was inclined to be sorry that I countenanced such a thing with my presence, and determined never to be present at a similar scene.

rather than abandon it. Such a body of men would doubtless, if mutinous, have proved dangerous to the State, and 'twas well done to deprive them of their sting; still-well, I believe they might have been trusted, but the risk was too great, so, like many thousands of loyal natives, they were driven into mutiny by mistrust. Poor fellows! mutiny must, of course, be put down by the strong hand, but I confess to much regret and sorrow at the fate of that brave troop of Bengal Native Horse Artillery.

The narrative has now brought me to the year 1856, in which year I sailed for England. The mutiny of 1857 breaking out, I returned to India in command of troops by long sea voyage in 1858, but had missed the mutiny service in the interim.

After a voyage round the Cape, in command of troops for Bombay, I found myself again in India towards the end of 1858, and after some endeavour to get to Central India or Rajpootana, where the mutiny still smouldered, I found myself posted to a battery at Peshawer, on the Punjaub north-west frontier. Proceeding up the Indus I arrived at Mooltan; and it was then I learnt the details of the melancholy catastrophe which had overtaken my poor old troop. The old fortress of Mooltan was also a wreck, having been dismantled by orders of Government. A proposal to re-establish it as a military position-after a design submitted on my behalf by Brigadier Colin Troup, who approved of the design-was ignored by the Punjaub Government; so I proceeded to Peshawer, at which frontier station I arrived in the spring of 1859. The mutiny had led to the disorganization of my old corps, and I found myself commanding a weak company of garrison artillery. It was during this period that the experiences narrated in Section II., Vol. II. of the 'Highlands of India," were principally acquired.

Since this is a military memoir I will here recount a slight frontier experience.

In December, 1859, my dear friend (Captain) "Dick" Mecham was murdered by robbers whilst travelling on the frontier, and a force was organized to avenge him on the tribes who had harboured the murderers. I made up my mind to volunteer to serve with the cavalry of the force, in the hopes of having the opportunity, once in my life, of having a cut in at those villains; but ultimately I had to join my own branch of the service, and served in No. 1 Punjaub Battery throughout the expedition. The force assembled at Kohât, under Sir Neville Chamberlain, and