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24 Aug 61 Julius Mussoorie, Uttarakhand Mother ______________________________________________________________________________________________

Mussoorie * Hotel

24 Augst 61

My dear Mother

You will see by the heading that I have changed (as our Colonel says ‘as a temporary measure’) my place of abode. August & September are the two worst months in the plains. Just the end of the rains & muggy to a degree, so we judiciously arranged to spend these our 60 day privilege leave, up in the cool climate of the Hills.

We had a nasty & an expensive journey up from Fyzabad here occupying six days & nights. Journeys are, I think, never very interesting, except to those concerned, but look in the map & see the distance we must have come. From Fyzabad to Lucknow by dhoolie dawk i.e. carried in Palanquins, except the first 20 miles, which of course we rode. That took us altogether about 26 hours.

There we were well put up & made a halt of a day. Then on by horse dâk, six, carriages with a change of horses every six miles. Crossing the Ganges we expected to be delayed, as we heard the bridge was destroyed by the floods which this year have been all over the country but, as the boats had been put together again, we crossed rapidly & had to wait about four hours at the Railway Station, when there was not a breath of air & we were nearly stifled by the heat. However, at 3 A.M. (we had started at 2 P.M. from Lucknow) we got into the Railway Train coming from Allahabad and reached Etawah that morning, about 3 o’clock. Thence we went by Horse Dâk to Roorkee, taking in our way Mynpoore *, Ally-ghur *, Bolaudshakur *, one or two other places, the names of which I forget & then Meerut. We stayed morning & evening to feed but otherwise kept on day & night.

Meerut is a place of great note in this part of India, being the Woolwich of India, but the Cholera was very bad there, so we did not make any stay, but pressed on to Roorkee where, after dinner, we changed Horse dâk for Dhoolie again & came through the Mohan Pass over the first range of the Himalaya Mountains. The road has been completely washed away by the mountain torrent & our path appeared to be the bed of one. It was one mass of big boulder stones, over which it was really surprizing that the Bearers could carry us. Over the pass, we got into the Dhoon *, which is an elevated plateau lying between the first & second ranges of the Hills. It has lately turned out a great tea growing Country & is, I believe, almost to cut out China in time. Some even have already made rapid fortunes & of course there are no end of Companies started.

Deyrah * is situated in the centre of the Dhoon & is the prettiest station that I have yet seen. We passed through it on our way to Rajpore which is at the foot of the Hills, where there is a Hotel kept by an old soldier who has a regular English Pig establishment. The only one I have met with out here. They turn out capital Hams and Bacon, just like English, in which we have been indulging greatly since our arrival here.

From Rajpore, we rode up the Hill about 6 miles on small tattoos, knowing & Hill travelling. There is only a small path up, cut zig zag & round, so as to take advantage of all ground. No consequence except what they call up here ‘Jan pans’ & ‘Dandees’ (both a sort of Dhoolie) can come up.

25th Augst

I am really glad now that I have taken this trip to the Hills as previously, although I had heard much about them, I had no idea of what a Hill Station was like. The Station, if such it can be called, stretches away for miles & miles over the Hills. Every little bit of flat ground, either at the tops or the sides of the Hills has been seized on as a site for a house. The paths (as there are no roads) are generally cut out of the side of the rocks. They are generally about, I should think, eight feet broad & the much frequented ones, such as the Mall, have paling to keep people from falling down the side of the Mountain into the valley beneath. I believe few Seasons pass without some few people being killed by falling from the paths. To one arriving fresh here, the wonder is that many more do not become victims.

We were told ‘Horses are no earthly use up in the Hills. Small hill ponies are the only useful beasts’ and on arrival here, of course the very first day we were nearly run over by one of the Diannas * of the place riding as they all do, at full swing on a Horse knowing the turns and twists of the place and who would assuredly tumble down, perhaps from astonishment (?) if his rider was to require him to go at a steady pace.

On the Mall, one’s life is really in danger. Here the ladies charge so over the ground and one’s whole evening is taken up in dodging the Horses. Only the other day a friend of mine was knocked clean over by a young damsel riding a large Artillery Cart Horse. He, poor fellow, was meekly mounted on a Jat of the country. He shot about 5 yards to the front & Tattoo about same distance to the rear where he lay sprawling on the ground with his legs in the air, on the concussion taking place. Now my friend is naturally a polite man (I myself might possibly in a like case, have allowed sundry strong but not complimentary ejaculations to escape me in the confusion of the moment). He gathered himself together &, hat in hand, begged the lady’s pardon for interrupting her progress & she graciously accepted his apologies. His is certainly a conduct which I admire, but I fear my natural impetuosity would hardly allow me to copy it.

There are three of us up here, Boyce, Jordan & myself. We tried to do the domestic & settle in a small but rustic habitation named ‘Rock Cottage’ but could not come to terms with the owner. He wanted £30 for it to the end of the season, which we of course would not give, as we only have another month to stay here. We therefore decided on making ourselves as comfortable as possible in the Hotel.

We naturally laid ourselves out to know the people here & called on all the nice ones in the place. The first night after our arrival here there was a Theatrical performance & a Ball at which we of course bore our parts. There are two more dances coming off here in the course of a week, so we intend to do our duties in the dancing line. The Kupportullah Rajah is living here with his wife, a white woman. He has lots of money & keeps up a Band & he is going to give one of the two Balls aforementioned.

I received yesterday your letter which came by the last Mail & in which you mention that Baker has been to see you. He has done me many a good turn, so if you can in any way return the Compliment, I shall be very glad to hear of it. The cards which you were to have sent out with ‘Malcolm’ would have been very handy just now, for all the calling I am doing. This is a great marrying place. One old lady, a great chum of mine, has married off six daughters here within the last few years & one of them twice over. She has now two most eligible young ladies staying with her. Twenty eight was, I think, the age you fix for a man to think of matrimony. My experience in India leads me to agree pretty well with you. I attended a wedding here two days ago. A young looking boy, without a hair on his face, aged about 22 & a young lady with red cheeks & an experience of about 18 years, were bound down to make one another miserable for life.

There are very few ladies in this country whom I would not be ashamed to introduce to the old folk at home as ‘mistress of my heart & hand’ *. Possibly I may yet find one who would cause me to alter my mind but, as I said before, my experience would cause me to wish the day when such an occurrence could take place is far distant indeed.

There is a vast deal of rain up here just now & the clouds are always coming in at the windows. It is very nice to feel comparatively cool & comfortable again; to be able to live in cloth clothes; to look at a fire without feeling your eyes dried up & last but not least, one of the greatest advantages of living where the temperature is bearable, is that you are free from Prickly Heat & boils which make one’s life miserable in the plains.

My leave is up on the 8th Octbr. Next year, if I have to do Rifle Instruction during the cold weather, & if, as I fear I shall be, unable to look you all up in old England, I shall try my luck in a six months tour in the interior amongst the Himalayas, vide Dunlop’s ‘Hunting in the Himalayas’ & now good bye.

I am sorry to hear my Father still suffers. Worthing will, I hope do him as much good as it did last year. I trust John has been successful.

Love to all from yr. affect. Son

JDLaurie

* Mussoorie Hotel – Mussoorie is a hill station in the foothills of the Himalayas

* Mynpoore – now Mainpuri

* Ally-ghur – now Aligarh

* Bolandshakur – now Bulandshahr

* Dhoon – now Doon. The Doon Valley is an unusually wide, long valley within the Sivalik Hills in the Lesser Himalayas

* Deyrah – now Dehradun

* Diannas – a reference to the Greek and Roman goddess Diana, who was especially associated with hunting

* mistress of my heart & hand – similar to phrases from The Tempest and The Taming of the Shrew