Great welcome to Moulmein—No fighting after all—The Madras native regiments

WE now sailed for Moulmein, and found there the 63rd Regiment and four strong and splendid regiments of Madras Native Infantry—all under the command of Brigadier-General Logan, late of the Rifle Brigade, and now of the 63rd Regiment. There was also a considerable force of European and Madras artillery, engineers, and commissariat, and a very imposing naval force under Admiral Cooper.

Our residence at Moulmein was very comfortable and agreeable to us all; the climate was cool and bracing, and under the hospitable rule of our most able and kind brigadier we soon became all intimate and friendly, and the most social dinner-parties at our messes and at the brigadier’s became the order of the day. All the Madras regiments had excellent mess establishments, equal in every respect to the Queen’s, and their constant and liberal hospitality could not be surpassed by any of our corps. A few days after our arrival in garrison the four Madras regiments invited me and the officers of the 50th Regiment to dinner, and for this purpose they pitched and joined their four mess marquees together into one splendid pavilion, the interior decorated with garlands and evergreens tastefully arranged, and with the spaces filled up with arms and military trophies. The tables were covered with the most brilliant plate and glass, and the lights were numerous and magnificent. All round the outside was a double row of natives, double torch-bearers, filling up the intervals between the sentries and the bands of the regiments stationed on each side of this stupendous marquee. The effect was truly brilliant and imposing, and no one could approach the gathering without wonder and delight.

We sat down, in all, nearly a hundred officers. The dinner and the wines were excellent, and the attendance of so unusual a number of active native servants in their thin white muslin robes and coloured turbans and kummerbunds was really imposing, and something new to us at a military mess. When dinner was over, and after the usual loyal toasts, the president stood up and proposed a bumper to the health and welcome of Colonel Anderson and the officers of the 50th Regiment. This was drunk with much applause and deafening cheers, the band playing “John Anderson, my joe.” I then rose and thanked them with much sincerity from myself and my officers for their hearty welcome and good wishes, and as they all knew my dear brother, Lieut.-General John Anderson, of their own army, I said I felt the more gratified and flattered from the conviction that their good feelings towards me individually were more from their regard for my brother than from any good they could discover in me, and that I was equally free to confess he was indeed much the better man of the two; and here I was interrupted by one of them standing up and shouting aloud, “A d—d deal better fellow than ever you will be!” I instantly turned towards the speaker and told him, and all, that a more gratifying compliment could not be paid me, and that I should not fail to assure my brother of the very flattering and friendly feeling which was thus so publicly expressed towards him. Three cheers then followed for “Old Jock Anderson!” and, not yet satisfied, they now (half a dozen of them) got me out of my chair and on their shoulders, and so carried me round and round the table amidst deafening cheers. The evening continued one of the most social and merriest of my life, and dinner after dinner followed at each of our messes, and many quiet ones also were enjoyed in succession at the married officers’ quarters, and always on a large scale at the brigadier’s once a fortnight, where that good man and Mrs. Logan made every one happy and at home by their kind and courteous manner and genuine hospitality.

Our military duties were not less exciting and, to me, not less pleasing. We had grand field-days and sham fights once a fortnight, with all the troops in garrison present, and I never saw any man handle his force more ably or more effectually than Brigadier Logan. It was quite a treat and a lesson to be manoeuvred by that able and gallant officer. He was a soldier every inch of him, and his ardent zeal for the service was part of his character, but his then most anxious wishes and the object of our expedition to Moulmein were defeated, for although we were ever ready and expecting an attack every morning from the Burmese, they never dared to come near us. The river Salwen or Martaban (from two to three miles broad) separated the contending forces, for it will be seen by reference to a map that Moulmein is situated on the left bank of the Salwen River, about twenty miles from the sea, and the town and fortress of Martaban, which was then strongly occupied by the enemy, immediately opposite on the right bank of the river, and it was from that place that we expected an attack every morning in boats. We could see their troops distinctly every day parading and marching about in large bodies, with their drums playing and their colours flying, and always with a large fleet of boats moored under their fortifications, as if prepared and meditating a descent. And they could also see our men-of-war and their armed boats pulling about and doing night guard ready to receive them.

In this way we continued for months staring at each other, but in the meantime we made ourselves more comfortable by covering all our tents with matting, which protected us not only from the rains and heavy dews which are common there, but also from the heat and glare of the sun during the day, and we occasionally enjoyed ourselves by exploring and picnic parties in the men-of-war’s armed boats up the river; for we were always on the most happy and intimate terms with the officers of our little navy, dining with them now and then and having them as our guests repeatedly. In a word, our sojourn at Moulmein was a very happy and jolly one. We never knew positively the cause of the enemy’s hesitation in making an attempt to attack us, but we heard that one or two flags of truce had been sent from our Government at Calcutta up the Irrawaddy with dispatches to Ava for the Burmese Government, and we concluded that terms of amity and peace had been proposed and perhaps agreed to, and this became the more probable when, early in March, 1842, orders were received for the immediate return of the 50th Regiment to Calcutta.

We were indeed sorry to leave Moulmein—the climate was so much cooler and better than India; and we had made so many kind and agreeable friends that to part with them—perhaps for ever—was far from pleasant. A more than usual intimacy took place between our men and the soldiers of the Madras Native Infantry, and they were frequently seen walking and chatting together. Most of these fine-looking men knew and served repeatedly under their own “General Anderson”—and they soon saw by our strong family likeness that I was his brother, and whenever any of them passed me they not only saluted but gave me a warm recognizing smile. When I first saw them I was struck by their fine manly and soldier-like appearance, superior in every way to the Bengal native troops and evidently under better discipline, and now the best proof of this is that when the whole of the Bengal native troops, cavalry, artillery, and infantry, mutinied, and murdered their English officers in cold blood, not one single corps of the Madras native army wavered for a minute. They remained faithful and true to their salt and to their colours, although it was well known, and beyond all doubt, that the leaders of the Bengal mutiny had sent many emissaries and appeals for aid to them.