"Such, briefly, was the state of affairs in October, 1804. At the
beginning of that month I had been wounded (a trifling scratch, cutting
off my left upper eyelid, a bit of my cheek, and my under lip), and I
was obliged to leave Biggs in command of my Irregulars, whilst I retired
for my wounds to an English station at Furruckabad, alias Futtyghur--it
is, as every twopenny postman knows, at the apex of the Dooab. We have
there a cantonment, and thither I went for the mere sake of the surgeon
and the sticking-plaster.
"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.
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