Introduction from Thomas Parnham

Expectancy became certainty when about the 17th June, an official notification that the 16th Lancers were to hold themselves in readiness to embark for Madras per S.S. Golden Fleece about the 27th inst. Preparing and packing of kits, writing farewells, and parting with friends, was the order of the day. Parting, in that small words are embraced many heart rending scenes, it would require the pen of Macaulay to describe the agonized feelings of a mother as she clings to the neck of her one son, and perhaps only support; or a father’s love, bursting through the iron bars of a strong will, striving to keep up appearances as he wrings the hand of his soldier son, or a lover’s last embrace, (Ye Gods have pity).

Doubtless the regiment saw and felt the full force of parting from England’s home and beauty. We remained in discomfort and uncertainty til four p. m. on the 27th when a telegram arrived to say that we were to start from Colchester at 9 a.m. next morning. With soldierly precision, the train with its precious burden moved out of the station at the appointed time, the band of the 17th Lancers, playing the farewell Auld Lang Syne. We reached Tilbury at about 2p.m. and were immediately conveyed on board the Golden Fleece, laying on the Gravesend side of the river. June 29th official delays caused us to lose the afternoon tide. June 30th at 4a.m. in tow of a tug, we slipped our moorings and proceeded down the river, Passed the Nare and Great Eastern laying at Anchor; having on board the Atlantic Cable. May their mission of science succeed. We soon cast off the tug and steamed steadily through the intricacies of the mouth of the Thames. We passed Ramsgate, Margate, and sighted the white cliffs of Dover. About noon we rounded the South Foreland and were fairly in the English Channel. Fleets of Merchant men boats and steam vessels passed us on their way to that leviathan entroport of the world, London. Steaming at the rate of 7 knots we got a good view of the Kentish coast with Folkstone sacred to the memory of many a honeymoon and Thorncliffe with its English Ensign flying, and hut encampment; the latest idea of our administration heads; the fit receptacle of bugs and other vermin. We steamed passed Hastings, Beachy Head, Eastbourne and Brighton. We are unfortunate with Head winds and low barometer. Showers of rain with smut and smoke driven aft from the funnel.