The Sun.
London, England, 1860-09-14 00:00:00

LITE_RATURE.

My Wanderings. Being travels in the East. By
John Gadsby.
It is now some time since we noticed favourably
Mr. Gadsby's book of travels on its own intrinsic
merits; and we are glad to learn that a new edition
is announced, which cannot fail to add to his exten-
sive and well-deserved popularity.

Central India during the Rebellion of 1857 and
1858. By Thomas Lowe, M.R.C.S.E., L.A.C.
Longman.
The Indian campaign is now a matter of history.
While yet the subject:was new, books and narratives
in endless variety poured forth, each and all con-
taining tales of sorrow and accounts of thrilling in-
terest, and the newspaper correspondents kept up
a disjointed and critical history of the doings of the
various British columns engaged in steadily regain-
ing our Indian empire. But although the achieve-
ments of many of our gallant battalions have been
expatiated upon by several authors, it appears that
the successful and glorious doings of Generals Sir H.
Rose and. Sir C. Stuart have been unchronicled. It
is for this reason that the author, who, as medical
officer to the corps of Madras Sappers and Miners,
accompanied the troops throughout the entire cam-
paign, was induced, at the suggestion of his friends,
to publish the present volume. His narrative
commences on board the transport Hibernia, which
bore a company of the Madras Sappers and liners
back to their own presidency from the Persian
frontier, enjoying in anticipation the joys of
furlough, and a reunion with their fa-
milies, all which fairy. castles were rudely
dashed away, when the pilot coming on board an-
nounced the astounding intelligence of the Bengal
mutiny. The corps were at once ordered up country
to the scene of action, Mr. Lowe accompanying
them as their surgeon and historian. How well he
performed the former is shown by his description
of events, which took place under the enemy's
fire, or within the walls of cities at the time
disputing possession with the troops, and which
bear testimony of his presence to relieve the
wounded. How the latter—the perusal of his nar-
rative will bear witness. There is nothing far-
fetched or overdrawn. The author has undertaken
to write a history of the army under Sir Hugh Rose
and Sir C. Stuart during its campaign in Central.
India, from his:personal observation there, and there-
fore.no mention is made of the other portions of the
British force. The pages are relieved at intervals
from the matter-of-fact details of marches and coun-
ter marches, by the author's observations on the state
of the country, and amusing little contretemps
experienced at the crossing of rivers, where obsti-
nate horses and bullocks would swim half way
over and then return, to the infinite discomfort of
their drivers, and on the principle that " who drives
fat cattle should himself be fat." Mr. Lowe,
being attached to the Engineers, takes an
interest in bridges, roads, &c., which he de-
scribes for the benefit of his readers. He has
taken great interest in studying and exa-
mining the old ruins and cities met with in the
line of march. At the city of Arungabad he paid
a visit to the ruin of former greatness.
After !the terrible scene of the morning parade, I
strolled into the town of Arungabad, and afterwards paid a
visit to the very beautiful Taj in its vicinity. The city,
once extensive and beautiful, and still renowned, presents
a truly marked picture of desolation, poverty, and fallen
greatness. Like most large Hindu owns, little remains
now to interest the sight seer, while there is much to dis-
' gust and hasten his departure. Squalid poverty sits
squatted in rags beneath many a time-worn, elaborately-
carved portico, through which the proud and gaudy Mus-
selman once strode ; houses once inhabited by the wealthy
Mahrattahs, are now fallen to ruin, their ornamental
carvings alone remaining to show where opulence once
dwelt ; mounds of ashes and filth lie in every street; chil-
dren scream at your presence, and astonished adults peer
out of their miserable abodes upon you with lustreless
eyes, while the Pariah dogs start from heaps of ashes, howl-
hag as they disappear among the gullies and huts of their
owners. And this is the city that once boasted of a college,
that once gloried in a palace of immense size and of a
monarch's presence, that once was surrounded by walls
some seven miles in circumference, with its many gates !
Little remains now of the ruined wall and its gateways,
still less of the palace of the great Aurungzebe. The
Pariah dog now barks in the sun by day, and the jackall
prowls by night upon the very spot where this monarch's
throne once stood. But there still remains in melancholy
sadness a beautiful memorial of this ruler's splendour and
taste—the Taj, or shrine built to the memory of Aurung-
zebe's daughter. This stately tomb, like all other beau-
tiful works of ancient grandeur, is fast falling to,decay.
The gardens, the walks, the water, the stone-works, and
the extensive wall surrounding all afar off, all in reckless
beauty and decay, impress one with no mean idea of the
wealth, the exquisite taste, and the largeness of mind that
once belonged to the ancestors of this wretched people. A
short distance off is a triangle of jungle-clad hills, rosy and
purple, and from their heights flows the stream that yet
supplies the basins and fountains of the Taj with water,
bubbling as it runs in mockery through the silent ruins.
Though this beautiful memorial of love, a fitting monu-
ment of Aurungzebe's greatness and splendour, has out-
lasted his palace and kingdom, it is fast crumbling away
beneath the feet of time. We go to Nineveh for their hide-
ous stone bulls, and to Greece for their marble gods, and
we build a palace to exalt them—is it not almost to wor-
ship I—yet do we allow the bijoux of our own empire to
pass into oblivion and dust ! As I sat there pondering over
such thoughts, an old Mussulrnan came into the verandah,
spread his mat, and commenced smoking his hookah as
calmly and abstractedly as though no other person was
near him. He puffed away for some time without once
noticing me, then quietly putting his pipe on one side,
asked me if I had seen the Taj. I had, and I spoke of it
in great praise. Ho simply bowed his head and stroked
his beard. He then said, God is good," and recom-
menced smoking more vehemently. Having claimed him-
self again, he said " Look I Kings die, dynasties change,
the poor cry, the dead are disturbed, and their tombs
tumble upon them I Allah is great and Mehemet is his
prophet These are sad days I" At this instant the
sound of the bugle from camp broke upon the stillness.
He looked up in a most imploring way, again stroked
his beard, and consoled himself with his pipe. I offered
him a rupee, but he said, " No ; I am an old man ; I don't
want money, I want only to die in peace. The air of this
place is very pure, and I come every day to smoke and
pray."
The capture of the fortress of Dhar was the first
success of this force,and after explaining the various
vicissitudes of the siege, the placing of batteries,
and other details relating to the capture of the place
and the search for treasure and plunder, the
author conducts the reader to the presence of the
infant Rajah of Dhar.
Long before the Rajah made his appearance the Dewan
(Chancellor of the Exchequer) came in. He was a middle-
aged man, and dressed from head to foot in spotless white
cloth. His head was well formed, he had lost the sight of
one eye by cataract, his features were of a heavy Mah-
rattahsstamp, and he wore silver spectacles. Ho appeared
to me to be a compound of Hindu profundity and cunning.
H 6 was very quiet in manner and polite, and seemed in a
very nervous state. Ho talked a good deal about political
matters, seemed very anxious to entertain me in every pos-
sible way, expatiated on the long continued friendly rela-
tions of the State with the Government, and on the fine
character of the late Rajah, whose likeness, admirably exe-
cuted by Carpenter, he took out of a case to show me. He
dusted the glass very carefully, and then contemplated the
picture in a profound meditation. A tear stole into his
eye and over his cheek as he gazed upon it. The days
had indeed changed! The departed Rajah had built the
room we then sat in, and evidently had done much to con-
fer an air of elegance and grace upon it, though now it
was in a sad condition.
If I say it was filthy I should convey but a faint idea of
its state, for it seemed not only so, but in beggarly negli-
gence, too. English couches, and Parisian timepieces,
and tarnished mirrors, and elegantly-made chairs, and
bureaus, and tables, and handsome carpets, huddled to-
gether in heaps, all covered with dust, lay here and there
in sublime disorder and incipient ruin. One or two gaudy
coloured prints hung in frames from the walls, and over
them the spider had spun his web. Not a clock told the
hour of day, for they were all neglected and placed out of
the perpendicular, and the glass shades covering them had
acquired quite a hoary cap of dust.
After an interview with the Rajah, an infant of
some 10 or 11 years of age, and of a dull and sleepy
disposition, the visitor departed, having been shown
out by the uncle of the Rajah, who behaved most
courteously. The author remarks that he has no-
thing to say of the merits or demerits politically of
the case, but that it would appear that the ad-
visers of his Highness acted in some very unwise
manner, if we are to judge by the bearing of the
Governor-General's political agent towards them,
for in a day or two after his visit the Old Dewan
was sent a prisoner to Mhow. The writer does
justice to the bravery of the enemy, while he exe-
crates their barbarity, which is, after all,
Christian however atrociousnations,but
it
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seemto
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althoughefm
justly cus-
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• tly punished with the utmost sinevteuhrls
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In chronicling the events of war it is scarcely just to
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those men face death and die upon the battle-field.
p
In this encounter with the enemy and the Mahidpore
Contingent, Dr. Orr, of the Hyderabad Contingent, came
up with one of the Rohillahs who was dressed in
perhaps
ap verys a
superior manner. Ho was a fine fellow, and
leader. He was requested to surrender, this he refused to
do ; he was then told that unless ho did so, death would
assuredly be his portion. At this he scoffed and boldly defied
the officer to combat. Then ensued the struggle for life in
deadly conflict, which he manfully maintained upon foot
till the cold sharp spear of his antagonist pierced his
breast ; he then fell upon the field, cast an agonised wither-
ing look of a still unvanquished spirit at his foe, threw his
arm across his eyes, and died without a eroan I The
Rohillah affects to despise death—his faith teaches him
that to die thus is to enter at once into the elysium of the
blest, where every sensual pleasure will be meted out to
him in undying sunny ripeness. Cradled in war, nurtured
in arms, imbued with a pompous sense of their all-saving
faith for time and eternity, proud by nature, and daring
by habit, it is no wonder he forms a figure of no mean type