habad in farm. He was remarkable for his wealth, his attachment to the English, and, it is said, for his talents.

Futtehpoor is surrounded, like most of these towns, with tombs, in the midst of which our tents were pitched. Near us was a large but ruinous serai, which had, however, more of its interior detail perfect than most which I have seen in India. It corresponded in many respects with those of Turkey and Crim Tartary,-a large court with two gateways opposite to each other, surmounted by towers not unlike those of a college, with a cloister or verandah all round raised about a foot from the ground, with a pucka floor, and having little fire-places contrived against the wall, just large enough to hold the earthen pitchers in which all the cookery of the country is carried on, and behind this a range of small and dark apartments a step lower than the verandah. No payment is required for lodging here, except a few cowries to the sweeper, while for a very few pice, grass and water will be furnished to a traveller's beasts, and wood and earthen pots to himself; for provisions, the neighbouring bazaar is ready. These serais are generally noble monuments of individual bounty, and some were in ancient times liberally endowed, and furnished supplies of gram, milk, and grass, gratis to the traveller, as well as shelter. Their foundations are most of them alienated, but even so far as shelter only is concerned, it is a very great blessing in this country, where the general poverty of the natives, and the prejudices of caste, forbid a stranger hoping for admission into any private dwelling. Even now, though ruinous, they are kept tolerably clean, and their benefit is so great to all persons, whether Europeans or natives, who are not rich enough to possess tents, and occasionally to some even of those who are, that I rejoice to learn that their restoration is one of the objects proposed by Government in the application of the internal tolls to works of public improvement.

*

The only plague attendant on our present situation arose from the swarms of sturdy Mussulman beggars, calling themselves "Marabouts," or holy men, and living in the tombs around us. I gave alms to one old man, who addressed me by the claim of being a fellow-servant of the same God, and had, in consequence, my ears deafened for half the morning by continued cries of supplication from people in the full possession of youth, health, and strength, who would not even have thanked me for less than half a rupee, and who had about as much sanctity in their appearance and demeanor as Friar Tuck, or Fray Diavolo. At last the Archdeacon went

* A kind of vetch on which horses are chiefly fed in India,-En.

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out, and talked to them in their own way, and they dispersed. Dinoo, to my surprise, arrived in camp about an hour after us, very materially better, and there seemed no doubt but that in a dhooly he would be able to proceed.

There was some hard showers during the day, and the night was so rainy, that though the morning of October 7th seemed rather more promising, I gave up all idea of attempting to stir the tents, and sent Mr. Corrie word to this effect. He called on me, however, to say that he had no doubt of being able, by the help of the Cutwal, to obtain hackeries from the town to carry the flies, which are the heaviest parts of the tents; that the camels would have no difficulty with the remainder, and that the loss of a day now would prevent our arriving in time for Sunday at Cawnpoor. I told him that all the natives said the day would be rainy; but he answered, that he thought the clouds were breaking, and that the natives never were to be depended on when the question was about moving. Under these circumstances, I ordered the camels and baggage, to be got ready; having first ascertained that there was a serai at Kuleaunpoor, where we might get shelter should our tents be useless. The routees were gone on overnight. Mr. Lushington and I accordingly set out immediately, that we might get in before the morning grew hot, and a dismal ride we had! I had anticipated at least some showers, and was not discouraged by the first or second which fell. But by the time we had got something less than half way, it set in for a thoroughly tropical wet day, with a fierce N. W. wind, and thunder and lightning, the rain falling in a continued torrent. It was in vain to stop, for we were already wet to the skin, and had indeed no shelter within reach, and we had only to keep our horses steadily to the storm, and to be thankful to God that it did not come on before we had day-light sufficient to see our way through a wild and flooded country, where the nullahs were already in many places as high as our horses' bellies.

After travelling about five miles in this way, and when we were still four from our halting-place, we fortunately overtook one of the palanquins, in which was a leathern bottle of brandy, which did us both infinite good. The road, too, was now better, and as his horse was fresher than mine, Mr. Lushington galloped on, in the hope of getting a fire lighted. I followed mere leisurely, passing, to my concern, the greater part of our baggage on the road, and having, consequently, reason to apprehend that we should find no dry clothes ready for us. In fact, I found Mr. Lushington stripped of his flannel waistcoat, and cowering over a little fire of sticks and cow-dung in a shed of very unpromising

appearance, the ground having been by far too wet to enable our advanced party to pitch the routees, and the serai turning out unfortunately one of the worst and most ruinous of the kind. More brandy was not forthcoming, but we ad ded sticks to the fire, and I ordered breakfast, for which, fortunately, the materials were arrived, while some of the advanced party of bearers, stripping themselves naked, volunteered to go back, and by their fresh strength help their companions to bring up the pettarahs with our clothes, more quickly. This answered well, as we had the satisfaction of finding, when they arrived, that they were really dry. Things now looked more promising; our horses and ourselves were under the common shelter of the ruinous cloister, with just room for a little table between them and the fire. A crowd of poor shivering servants was huddled round this on every side but that which we occupied; and another shed at some little distance was used by Mr. Corrie's khansaman as cook-room, and should they arrive, would serve as parlour and dressing-room for their party. But each successive detachment of the caravan, as they continued to drop in, gave, as might be expected, worse and worse accounts of the road. It was" knee-deep,"-it was "middle-deep," it was "half a spear's depth in water." Still the rain kept pouring on, but without thunder or wind; and as we looked from our shed on the swimming dung-hills of the serai, and the poor wet camels patiently standing or lying down among them, I thought what a whimsical contrast the scene offered to the description in Irving's story of the "Stout Gentleman."

Our caravan continued to arrive during the day, which cleared up towards evening, but not time enough to prevent all our bedding from being hopelessly wet through. Meantime we were not quite without employment, since, besides seeing our horses taken care of, we had all manner of complaints to adjudicate between the villagers, our servants and sepoys, and two companies more of sepoys who were also driven to shelter. I could not help feeling very uncomfortable about the Corries and their children. The people who came up said they had obtained shelter in the house of a Zemindar, but whether a gig and palanquin could get through the waters which were between us, was more than we could form a judgment of. At length, just as we had given them up and were sitting down to dinner, they arrived, happily all well, and having received a hospitable entertainment from the Zemindar in question, at whose house they had asked permission to boil a little gruel for the children, and who had immediately invited them into a comfortable verandah, and, though a Hindoo sent to purchase them a fowl and cur VOL. I.

27

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JOURNEY TO CAWNPOOR.

rie. The archdeacon expressed much unwillingness to eat these in his house, knowing, he said, how strong a prejudice would, a few years since, have been excited against such a step. But on his saying, "Oh, do not let us pollute your house," the good man returned an answer which, Mr. Corrie observed, showed, more than most things, how fast caste was wearing away, "We have different customs, but are we not of the same flesh and blood?-My house is much honoured by your company."

When the Corries saw what sort of a place they were come to, they at first regretted that they had not accepted the Zemindar's invitation to stay all night. His khansaman, however, had managed matters for them better than could have been expected, and except that their apartment admitted the rain in places, it made about as good a bed-room as a common blacksmith's shed in England would have done, but clean, and very sufficient for the climate. Our palanquins made excellent beds, and we had so many unexpected comforts, my khansaman having provided an excellent dinner of kid soup and bouille, and the chest of wine having come up, that we had abundant reason for thankfulness, which was increased by finding that our sick men were not worse for their journey.

It was evident, however, that the tents could not again be moved without a thorough drying, and as I had appointed Saturday morning for the confirmation at Cawnpoor, Mr. Lushington and I agreed with the bearers of our palanquins, for a trifling additional sum, to carry us next day, two marches in one, to that station, should the weather be such as to make it practicable. We left the tents, servants, and the two police men whom we had brought from Allahabad, with the Corries, and set off ourselves after breakfast on the 8th of October. The day was fine, and though the roads were in a very bad state, it was delightful to hear the mutual congratulations of our bearers and villagers whom we passed, both parties full of thankfulness to God, and considering themselves, with apparent reason, as delivered from famine and all its horrors. One of these mutual felicitations, which the archdeacon overheard the day before, was very interesting, as it was not intended for his ear, and was one of the strongest proofs I have met with of the satisfaction of the Hindoos with their rulers. "A good rain this for the bread," said one of the villagers to the other. "Yes," was the answer, "and a good government under which a man may eat bread in safety." While such a feeling prevails, we may have good hopes of the stability of our Indian Government. In crossing a nuddee, which from a ford had become a fer

JOURNEY TO CAWNPOOR.

315

ry, we saw some characteristic groups and occurrences; the price of passage in the boat was only a few cowries, but a number of country-folk were assembled, who could not, or would not, pay, and were now sitting patiently by the brink, waiting till the torrent should subside, or, what was far less likely to happen, till the boatmen should take compassion on them. Many of these poor people came up to beg me to make the boatmen take them over, one woman pleading that hermalik our bucher," (literally master, or lord, and young one) had run away from her, and she wanted to overtake them; another that she and her two grandchildren were following her son, who was a havildar in the regiment which we had passed just before; and some others, that they had been intercepted the previous day by this torrent, and had neither money nor food till they reached their homes. Four anas purchased a passage for the whole crowd, of perhaps thirty people, and they were really very thankful. I bestowed two anas more on the poor deserted woman, and a whimsical scene ensued. She at first took the money with eagerness, then as if she recollected herself, she blushed very deeply and seemed much confused, then bowed herself to my feet and kissed my hands, and at last said, in a very modest tone, it was not fit for so great a man as I was, to give her two anas, and she hoped that I and the chota Sahib' (little lord) would give her a rupee each!" She was an extremely pretty little woman, but we were inexorable, partly, I believe, in my own case at least, because we had only just rupees enough to take us to Cawnpoor, and to pay for our men's provisions; however, I gave her two more anas, my sole remaining stock of small change.

6

When this was all done, the jemautdar of the neighbouring village came to ask for the usual certificate of his having rendered us assistance. I wrote it out for him on the top of my palanquin, having provided myself for such purposes with paper and Sir Thomas Acland's inkstand, when a new scene followed. He was very grateful for the good word I gave him, but he had a brother, a fine young man, now in the service of the Peishwa Bajee Row, in the neighbouring town of Betourah, but who was anxious to get into the Company's service, "would I have the goodness to give him a recommendation to the judge Sahib of Betourah?" "I do not know the judge Sahib of Betourah." "But Huzoor (your worship) is Malik of the land, and your Firmaun will be obeyed. "Suppose I could do your brother any good, I do not know him, how shall I recommend him?" "Huzoor may believe me when I tell him that my brother is one of the best men in the world!" "But I am only a traveller, and have