Saint Mary's School
Mount Saint Gabriel
PEEKSKILL-ON-THE-HUDSON, N. Y.

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For catalogues address The Sister Superior

CHEVY CHASE SCHOOL

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d with two years advanced work beyond. Twelve-acre

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THE ORATORY SCHOOL College preparatory school for the sons of gentlemen.

Conducted by the Oratorian Fathers. Classes taught by competent laymen. Preference given to applicants to Lower School. Apply to Headmaster, Summit, New Jersey

Virginia Episcopal School

LYNCHBURG, VIRGINIA

prepares boys at cost for college and university. Modern equipment. Healthy location in the mouncains of Virginia. Cost moderate, made possible through the generosity of founders. For satalogus apply to

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BEDFORD, VIRGINIA

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ROXBURY

A Special Type of Boarding School.
College Preparation

Sound Instruction by the Tutorial Method
High Record of Efficiency in College
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A. L. Sheriff, Headmaster
Cheshire, Connecticut.

Westminster

Prepares Boys for College

Upper and Lower School. Summer and Winter Sessions Raymond Richards McOrmond, A. B. (Yale)

Head Master

SIMSBURY, CONNECTICUT

LEARN LANGUAGES

Private and Class instruction in all modern las Skilled native teachers. guages. English included. Reasonable tuition. Day and Evening Classes Enroll at BERLITZ SCHOOL in New York Brooklyn, Boston, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Washing ton, Detroit, Chicago, etc.

HOME STUDY COURSE for out of town students. Write for particulars to New York Berlitz School, 80 West 84th Street.

No. MCCCL.

VOL. CCXXIII.

IT was high twelve on the old grey walls of Jammu city, high up on the cliffs above the Tawi River, whence up the valley the snowy peaks of the Pir Pinjal, towering between Jammu and Kashmir, shone dazzling in the mid-day sun. The brass cannon on the Gate of Victory had fired its mid-day message, and the echoes were ringing across from gorges opposite.

My Indian servant approached and salaamed. "General Sahib agya. . . the General has come.'

“What General ? " I asked. "General Devi Deen." That conveyed little enough to me, but I hurried to meet him, for General Officers fill subalterns with awe. Climbing stiffly up the big steps to the

VOL. CCXXIII.-NO. MCCCL.

I.

entrance of the Residency came a six-foot Indian in undress frogged patrol jacket of the general officer with mameluke sword complete, wearing a high white puggaree atop bound with gold braid. A tall burly man, with coal black beard and whiskers curled and fastened under his ears (with gouty slit boots that belied the blackness). An Indian aide-de-camp hurried up the steps behind him saying, "General Devi Deen, Quartermaster-General, Jammu and Kashmir Army."

It was a visit of ceremony, and I was not used to such, but I hurried forward to shake him by the hand.

It had already been a day of adventure. I had arrived the day before to take up the post of Inspecting Officer of

Q

the Kashmir Imperial Service Artillery, and only an hour before returned from calling on the ruler of the land and discussing gravely the age of all the Viceroy's Council. The elephant that had brought me still waited in the corner of the compound. Gravely I led the old soldier into the Residency, and we sat while the A.D.C. tried to make pleasant conversation. To all my sallies the old man laughed deeply through his few remaining tooth stumps, fine of figure still, though the white at the roots of his beard showed that the almond-tree flourished below the dye.

He hoped I was not tired with the journey. Ho, ho, ho! The Kashmir Artillery was fortunate to have secured my services. Ho, ho, ho! He hoped I would write freely to him about anything I wanted for the batteries. Ho, ho, hoj! and his eyes, which were getting sleepy, screwed up and twinkled at me amid a myriad crow'sfeet.

I felt that though not very successful in my talk I had nevertheless clicked, and the A.D.C. then asked me if the General had my permission to withdraw, which was embarrassing to one not used to Eastern visits of ceremony. However, I succeeded in escorting him to his barouche and helping his old toes up the steep steps of the old-fashioned carriage. A sentry at the door presented his Brown Bess as the General drove off.

And that was my first introduction to Devi Deen, Mutineer, some of whose story I now propose to tell, for the old man has long been gathered to his fathers, and nothing really matters.

This was in the year 1894. The Hunza-Nagar trouble was not long over, and we were busy shutting and double-locking the doors through which Yanoff and Gromchefski and their cossacks had been poking their noses across the great mountain passes which separated the Russian Pamirs from the country of our feudatory, the Maharajah of Kashmir. The State of Jammu and Kashmir had the remnant of a great army, an army of old tradition and still older armament, and this force we were shaking out and boiling down better to serve its purpose and the purse of the State, and to be of some use for modern war.

This ancient army still retained some of the old French equipment which dated from the days of Generals Avitabile, Allard, and Ventura. Some of the Dogra officers could still drill their men in the French drill of Napoleonic days, so hard did the French tradition die in India.

At the headquarters of the Army was a full staff, with Quartermaster-General and the like. It was the latter who had called on me, a magnificent old Oudh Brahmin, who had a coat full of interesting medals: the "Avenging" medal for the Afghan War of 1839-42, the one

that bore the legend Vindex rather than Regina around the Queen's head; and for both the Sikh Wars, with clasps for Aliwal and Sobraon and Chillianwallah. He also wore the five-pointed star for Gwalior, and the frontier medal for the Black Mountain in 1868. Now the dates of these medals are of interest for the gap that lies betwen them, as those versed in Indian history will spot.

This was his history. He had been for many years in the Cavalry of the Honourable East India Company, and in no less a regiment than the 3rd Light Cavalry. Now the 3rd Light Cavalry, as all the world should remember, was the regiment which opened the ball in the Great Sepoy Mutiny, opened it too in horror and massacre on a Sunday evening, the 10th May, at Meerut in 1857, at the immediate behest of the courtezans of the bazaar. And it had then and there headed the Meerut garrison in its hurried march to continue the evil at the great and ancient capital of Delhi itself.

Pottinger with the survivors and captives of the massacres at Kabul and in the Pass of Jugdallak. Jugdallak. He would tell us gaily of the Sutlej Campaign, and how he had lost a thumb to a Sikh swordsman in a wild charge at Sobraon. And then someone would say

"Tell us about the Mutiny, Devi Deen."

Then his shrewd old eyes would turn glassy.

"I never heard of that." "Oh, rot, Devi Deen; you must know about that," to which he would answer

"No, Sahib, I must have been on furlough.'

And we could get nothing from him of that cruel and stirring episode which wiped his regiment and most of the Bengal Army off the Army list and out of the pages of fame. It is one of the most remarkable facts about this great mutiny, that we have gathered very little of what this magnificent army of ours, so long led to victory, thought of itself when it found itself at mortal grips with its old masters and the officers who had led them. While men

with

As time went on in Jammu I got to know the old soldier, partly from having to pay

him many visits of insistence touching the equipping of the new batteries I was responsible