“Furruckabad, then, is divided into two districts or towns: the lower
Cotwal, inhabited by the natives, and the upper (which is fortified
slightly, and has all along been called Futtyghur, meaning in
Hindoostanee 'the-favorite-resort-of-the-white-faced-Feringhees-near
the-mango-tope-consecrated-to Ram') occupied by Europeans. (It is
astonishing, by the way, how comprehensive that language is, and how
much can be conveyed in one or two of the commonest phrases.)
“Biggs, then, and my men were playing all sorts of wondrous pranks with
Lord Lake's army, whilst I was detained an unwilling prisoner of health
at Futtyghur.
“An unwilling prisoner, however, I should not say. The cantonment at
Futtyghur contained that which would have made ANY man a happy slave.
Woman, lovely woman, was there in abundance and variety! The fact is,
that when the campaign commenced in 1803, the ladies of the army all
congregated to this place, where they were left, as it was supposed, in
safety. I might, like Homer, relate the names and qualities of all. I
may at least mention SOME whose memory is still most dear to me. There
was--
“Mrs. Major-General Bulcher, wife of Bulcher of the infantry.
“Miss Bulcher.
“Miss BELINDA BULCHER (whose name I beg the printer to place in large
capitals.)
“Mrs. Colonel Vandegobbleschroy.
“Mrs. Major Macan and the four Misses Macan.
“The Honorable Mrs. Burgoo, Mrs. Flix, Hicks, Wicks, and many more too
numerous to mention. The flower of our camp was, however, collected
there, and the last words of Lord Lake to me, as I left him, were,
'Gahagan, I commit those women to your charge. Guard them with your
life, watch over them with your honor, defend them with the matchless
power of your indomitable arm.'
“Futtyghur is, as I have said, a European station, and the pretty air of
the bungalows, amid the clustering topes of mango-trees, has often ere
this excited the admiration of the tourist and sketcher. On the brow of
a hill--the Burrumpooter river rolls majestically at its base; and no
spot, in a word, can be conceived more exquisitely arranged, both by art
and nature, as a favorite residence of the British fair. Mrs. Bulcher,
Mrs. Vandegobbleschroy, and the other married ladies above mentioned,
had each of them delightful bungalows and gardens in the place, and
between one cottage and another my time passed as delightfully as can
the hours of any man who is away from his darling occupation of war.
“I was the commandant of the fort. It is a little insignificant pettah,
defended simply by a couple of gabions, a very ordinary counterscarp,
and a bomb-proof embrasure. On the top of this my flag was planted, and
the small garrison of forty men only were comfortably barracked off in
the case-mates within. A surgeon and two chaplains (there were besides
three reverend gentlemen of amateur missions, who lived in the town,)
completed, as I may say, the garrison of our little fortalice, which I
was left to defend and to command.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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