(Eleanor Macdonell's Memories)

 "We were married on the 18th of May 1854, by the Reverend John Walker, and our honeymoon was spent in a delightful tour through the highlands of Perthshire and Invernesshire, ending up with Braemar.  We then went to London prepared to embark for India, but as the ship in which our passages had been taken, "The Queen", deferred sailing, we returned to Scotland for about a fortnight; after which we again went to London, and sailed for Calcutta on the 12th of September 1854.

While in London we dined with Dr. and Mrs. Baker, very old friends of Ranald's, for the doctor was in the regiment when Ranald joined it in 1827.   At that dinner we met a grand-daughter of the poet Burns, and two of his sons, both elderly men, and both, I believe, in the Indian service.   One was a Major, but I forget the rank of the other.

At this time Ranald's uncle Sir James Macdonell, (who  died three years later), was still alive, and before leaving London he went out to St. John's Wood to pay his respects to the  old man, who received him very kindly, and presented him with a pair of pistols that had belonged to Glengarry.   But before doing so he had them converted into detonators (percussion firing, rather than flintlock), which alteration, he told Ranald,  cost £10.   Sir James was a distinguished soldier who had won honour and glory by holding an important position against the French at Waterloo".  (This was the famous farmhouse of Hougomont, which "with the most determined bravery" was held by a party of British (Coldstream) Guards throughout the day.

We sailed for India on the 12th of September, from London, and at Portsmouth, Miss Copeland, sister of one of the officers of the regiment, met us, and in our charge went out to Calcutta to be married.

At the Canary Islands we were becalmed for almost two  weeks, and the weather now became very warm, the temperature in our cabin being 83°.   In order to catch the trade winds we had to run out towards America, and then away south of the Cape, - so far away that we were out of sight of land.   One day in those regions, a huge albatross was caught and brought on board:  it was about the size of a swan, pure white, with a very large beak.  Many other birds came flying about the ship, and resting on the rigging, and there were also, now and then, great numbers of flying fish to be seen.

After passing the Cape the weather became very stormy; all ports were tightly shut, the dishes had to be strapped to the table, and dinner consisted of Irish stew served in tureens.   While we were occupied with this simple meal, there was a violent lurch of the ship, and the Padre, with knife in one hand and fork in the other, fell back, chair and all.   Fortunately he was not hurt, and the cadets were greatly amused at his rather comical mishap.   A more serious accident occurred the following day when the ship was labouring through a heavy gale;  a nurse and infant fell down the hatch;  the woman was stunned, and the child had its gums so badly cut that the doctor had to stitch them.   The mother, being too much overcome to hold the baby during this operation, I did so.   It quickly recovered and I afterwards heard that in spite of the accident, its teeth ultimately came in quite regularly.

Our voyage was on the whole a very monotonous one, for we touched nowhere but at Galle (Ceylon).   However, we were two days there and greatly enjoyed our stay, particularly the drives through the Cinnamon Gardens.   Galle harbour is very prettily surrounded with high rocks and trees, - a delightful scene after many weeks at sea.

Among the passengers on board "The Queen", were Captain and Mrs. Perkins, Mrs. Willoughby and her daughters, - the mother and sisters of the officer, who, at the mutiny time, blew up the Delhi magazine to save it from the rebels.   There were also Mrs. Phillott, Mrs. Welshman, and several other officers' wives, besides Mrs. Rutherford and her two daughters, one of whom the following year married an officer in her brother's regiment, and at the mutiny, she and her husband were, with others, tied to a tree, and shot by the men of their own regiment.

Another girl passenger, who was going out to her sister, I shall never forget singing so sweetly on deck in the evenings:-

"Way down the Swanee River,

Far, far, away,

There's where my heart is turning ever,

There's where the old folks stay".

She, poor girl, died in the Cawnpore entrenchments after having nursed a wounded cadet until he died.

One day there was a death on board:  an elderly lady was taking her young grand-daughter to India in the hope of saving her life, for she was in consumption, but in the middle of the voyage the girl died, in a cabin opposite ours, and I was with the grandmother when it happened.

I can never forget that funeral service which was next morning.   The coffin was of plain deal, perforated all over with holes, and covered with the Union Jack.   On the words, "we therefore commit her body to the deep," the coffin, which was weighted with lead at the feet, was slid over the side, and fell into the sea with a plunge, while the ship was going fast before a strong breeze.   We watched it tossing on the waves for some time, and then it rose up at one end, and disappeared into the sea.

The heavy gales which came on as we entered the Channel of Mozambique continued till we neared our destination.

On the 3rd of January 1855 the pilot came on board;  on the 5th we cast anchor at Kedgeree, and on the 6th arrived at Calcutta.   We went to nice rooms in Chowringhee Road, which had been taken for us by a friend, and there we stayed for several weeks waiting until we got our baggage out of the ship.   A week after our arrival, Miss Copeland was married in the Cathedral, to the civilian to whom she was engaged, Ranald giving her away.

The long detention in Calcutta was rather tedious, but we hired a carriage for the time we were there, and had a good deal of pleasure in our drives, and in meeting many of Ranald's old friends.   On the 27th of January we left Calcutta by dak-garri, and travelling by the Grand Trunk Road, via Burdwan, Sherghati, Benares, Allahabad and Lucknow, arrived at Cawnpore, where we were obliged to remain a month in a hotel, waiting again for our luggage, which, being very heavy, came up the 400 miles by bullock train.   In the meantime we bought horses, (cavalry chargers), and collected servants, tents, and camels for our long march up to Peshawar.

At Burdwan I was delighted to see some lofty hills in the distance, and nearby, magnificent trees, and beautiful fields of white opium poppies.   At Sherghati we crossed the Son river and bought some of the pretty agates - "Son pebbles", which are found there.

 (Note by DRC:  The Son is crossed at DEHRI, 57  miles after passing Sherghati, which is on the Murhar river).

At Benares there was some sight-seeing to be done, - the College, and Pundit' Hall, the temples, the bathing ghats and the local industries of brass-ware, and "kin-cob", a lovely fabric of interwoven gold and silk.   After a few days at Allahabad, "the City of God", we went on to Lucknow, arriving on the 5th of February, and stopped with Captain Macandrew, 19th Native Infantry.   One evening we were present at a banquet given at the palace by the King of Oudh in honour of the young Marquis of Lothian.   After the banquet there was a nautch and a fine display of fireworks.   Another evening we went to a ball given by the 3rd Dragoon Guards who were stationed then at Lucknow.   I wore my black velvet dress which I had trimmed for the occasion with a berthe of the beautiful crimson leaves of the poinsettia, and was complimented on being the best-dressed woman present, several men remarking to Ranald "your wife's dress is by far the prettiest in the room".   I was very pleased when he told me, for I had taken some trouble to make my dress look nice.

We were sorry to leave Lucknow, having enjoyed our stay there very much indeed.

At Cawnpore we were again delayed, as I said before, on account of our baggage, which was slowly following us.   Here I was amused to see on the Mall one day, a carriage drawn by camels with gay trappings;  some one told me that it belonged to the Commissariat Officer, and I wondered why he preferred camels to horses.   During our stay at Cawnpore Ranald called on Brigadier Storey, on the 2nd Cavalry, and on General Wheeler.

At last our heavy baggage arrived, and we went on our way.   At Aligarh Ranald pointed out the stronghold which was taken from the Maharattas by our troops under Lord Lake in 1803.  At Delhi, in the centre of the Chandi Chowk, or Silver Street, stands the Sonari Musjid, on which Nadir Shah the Persian conqueror stood, a little over a hundred years before (1732) and watched the pillage of the town, and the slaughter of its inhabitants by his troops.   The approach to the large mosque, the Jumma Musjid, I thought very pretty, and the Musjid itself most imposing.   At Delhi there is a city wall, on the top of which, within the crenellated battlements, a cart might be driven, it is said, all the way round the city.

At Ambala Ranald and I stopped for a week with Colonel Norman, (afterwards Sir Henry), and were very kindly received by him and his wife.   They had a fine tent pitched for us in the compound, where we were most comfortable.   Through Colonel Norman, Ranald heard of a splendid Arab charger which he bought from a general who was going home, for ¦150 (Rs 2,000!).   He turned out to be a perfect animal for his work, and after eight years Ranald sold him to the doctor of the regiment, who knew the horse well, and willingly gave £100 for him.

At Loodhiana dak bungalow, our next stopping place, to my great surprise and pleasure, I met an old friend, - a Mrs. Gordon, - whom I had known many years before at school in Elgin.   She was as much surprised as I was, and equally pleased.   We next passed Kartarpur, now a deserted station, but Ranald had spent five years there, and so it interested us both. (Ranald's first wife, Mary, died there aged 33 on 9.7.52)

Then came the fort of Govindghur, near Amritsar, where Ranjit Singh kept his jewels, amongst others the famous Kohinoor.   At Amritsar we visited the Golden Temple of the Sikhs, a lovely building of white marble and gold standing in the middle of a tank of pure water.   Amritsar is a great place for the manufacture of attar of roses;  we passed men carrying sacks full of roses, which scented the air deliciously.   The streets of the town are so narrow that we could not turn our dogcart until we had unyoked the horse, and there is not much to be seen in them, but away from these crowded narrow streets the view of the Himalayas from Amritsar is perfectly beautiful.   They seem to be high up in the clouds.

At Gujerat we visited Mr. and Mrs. Capper, (the bride we had chaperoned out to India and her husband,) and after a few days went on to Rawalpindi.   Here it was delightfully cool when we arrived, which was in the beginning of May.   The cantonment stands on the banks of a mountain stream, formidable in the rains, but quite the reverse in the dry season.   "Pindi" seemed to me a very nice station.   At the dak bungalow of Janee ka Sung, two stages beyond Rawalpindi, we met Captain Cromeline, an engineer officer, who gave us a good route and told us of the precautions necessary for that road against robbers.   So I got my revolver ready, Ranald having taught me to use it during our long journey up-country, and as we went along, one of the servants came to me and asked leave to see my weapon.   I showed  him my revolver and cartridges, and he salaamed and went away.    Perhaps it was in consequence of his seeing that we were prepared for an attack - servants being often in league with the  robbers,- but anyhow, no highwaymen molested us.

I recollect our once meeting a cart full of prisoners, - but this I think must have been further south, - they were "Thugs", and, all in chains, were being conveyed down-country to jail, escorted by a body of police.   The prisoners did not appear at all downhearted, on the contrary, they seemed to be in excellent spirits.

Near Hussan Abdul in the valley described in Lalla Rookh, we had a narrow escape of an accident at a causeway called "Margullah Ghat", or "Breakneck Pass", on the old Mahomedan road. Here we had fortunately, got out of the buggy, for in going down the steep descent, which was paved with round stones, the coolies negligently failed to hold back the conveyance, and the horse, becoming frightened, set off at full speed, knocking down the syce and another man who tried to stop it, and continuing its mad career for quite two miles beyond the causeway.   Thankful were we when we saw the buggy swaying violently from side to side, that we had got out of it when we did, for otherwise we should in all probability have been thrown out and killed.   Still, strange to say, neither horse nor buggy were damaged.   After walking on for two miles we met a sowar of the Irregular Cavalry who had caught the horse, and there it was, very much blown, and evidently feeling that it had "had enough of it", so we got into the buggy again and drove on to Hassan Abdul.  The dak bungalow there is prettily situated near a beautiful clear stream, - the Bendemeer, - that comes down from Kashmir

"There's a bower of roses by Bendemeer's stream,

And the nightingale sings there all the day long" (Moore)

From Hussan Abdul we made a forced march to Huttee, devoured all the time by sandflies.   Our next stopping place was Attock dak bungalow, a lovely place on the Indus.   We had already crossed four great Punjab rivers, the Beas, the Ravi, the Chenab, and the Jhelum, and now a fifth, the Indus, lay before us.   The Ravi and the Jhelum we had crossed on bridges of boats, and the Chenab in a ferry-boat, but the Beas was different from all these. 

 The river branched into three streams, and the first we crossed riding on an elephant.   When we came to the second we remained on his back, and he stepped into a flat-bottomed boat, which was then rowed across the stream.   At the third stream we still stayed on the elephant's back, while he waded through the deep water, a man swimming ahead guiding him across the ford.   When we arrived at the Indus with our horses and camels, double-poled tents and all sorts of baggage, we found the river in flood - a roaring torrent, going foaming through a rocky gorge, at the rate of twenty miles an hour.   The snow in the mountains was melting and causing this heavy spate, and we had to make up our minds to wait until it was safe to cross the river, for, only a week before, a ferry-boat with seventy passengers on board was lost at this very place.

And so we waited for a week, together with fifty government hackeries laden with stores for Peshawar;  and then we crossed, first seeing our animals safely over, - three horses and nine camels; - previously bribing the boatmen to be careful, for it was difficult work, and the horses were valuable.   When finally, we crossed the river, there were fourteen men holding the helm against the current, and guiding the boat.

We had written to Peshawar of our coming, and therefore found a guard of five men on the other side of the river, who accompanied us for the three or four remaining marches to Peshawar.   It was not safe in those days to be without a guard in the neighbourhood of Peshawar, the country was so unsettled.

At Nowshera we met a native officer, Peer Bux, of the 10th Cavalry, who on being questioned, told us that he was on his way for remounts.

At last, on the 13th of May 1855, at eight o'clock in the morning, we arrived at our own house at Peshawar, and our long journey was over.

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I can hardly realise the great changes that have taken place in the means of travelling since that time, - fifty years ago, - of which I speak;  but I am sure we saw the country far better when marching, than any now do by rail.   And although we had to get up very early - at four or five in the morning, - so as to have our ten or fifteen miles march over while it was still cool, one soon became accustomed to that, and the march was made as comfortable as possible.   While we were dressing, a fire used to be lighted close to the tent, and coffee made, which we drank just before starting on our march.   Then on our arrival at our destination, we always found the other tent pitched, and baths and breakfast ready for us, one half of the servants having gone on at four or five the evening before.   We travelled mostly in a buggy, but in palanquins when the roads were bad, and Ranald sometimes rode.