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  From constantly chewing the betel-nut, their teeth are stained black, with a red tinge, which has a hideous effect. I picked up some beautiful shells on the shore, and bartered with the women for their silver wire rings.

  The colours of my shawl greatly enchanted Lancour, one of their chief men; he seized it rather roughly, and pushing three fowls, tied by the legs, into my face, said, ‘I present, you present.’. As I refused to agree to the exchange, one of the officers interfered, and Lancour drew back his hand evidently disappointed.

  The gentlemen went on shore armed in case of accidents; but the ship being in sight all was safe. I have since heard that two vessels, which were wrecked on the island some years afterwards, were plundered, and the crews murdered.

  Many of the most beautiful small birds were shot by the officers. As for foliage, you can imagine nothing more luxuriant than the trees bending with fruits and flowers. No quadrupeds were to be seen but dogs and pigs; there are no wild beasts on the island. They say jackals, alligators, and crabs are numerous: the natives were anxious the sailors should return to the ship at night and as they remained late, the Nicobars came down armed with a sort of spear; they were cautious of the strangers, but showed no fear, and told the men to come again the next day. It must be dangerous for strangers to sleep on shore at night, on account of the dense fog, so productive of fever.

  The scene was beautiful at sunset; the bright tints in the sky contrasted with the deep hue of the trees; the shore covered with men and boats; the beehive village, and the novelty of the whole. Many of the savages adorned with European jackets, were strutting about the vainest of the vain, charmed with their new clothing; Lancour was also adorned with a cocked-hat! The woman who appeared of the most consideration, perhaps the queen of the island, wore a red cap shaped like a sugar-loaf, a small square handkerchief tied over one shoulder, like a monkey mantle, and a piece of blue cloth round her hips; a necklace of silver wire, with bracelets, anklets, and rings on the fingers and toes without number. The pigs proved the most delicate food; they were very small, and fattened on coconuts: the poultry was excellent.

  The natives make a liquor as intoxicating as gin from the coconut tree, by cutting a gash in the bark and collecting the juice in a coconut shell, which they suspend below the opening to receive it; it ferments and is very strong – the toddy or taree of India.

  Little did I think it would ever have been my fate to visit such an uncivilised island, or to shake hands with such queer looking men; however, we agreed very well, and they were quite pleased to be noticed: one man, who made us understand he was called Lancour, sat down by my side, and smoked in my face by way of a compliment. They delight in tobacco, which they roll up in a leaf; and smoke in form of a cigar. I cannot refrain from writing about these people, being completely island struck.

  It was of importance to the Winchelsea, in which there were a hundred and twenty on the sick list, to procure fruit and vegetables, as the scurvy had broken out amongst the crew.

  We landed October 30th, and quitted the island November 2nd, with a fair wind: all the passengers on board were in good spirits, and the ship presented a perfect contrast to the time of the calm.

  November 3rd – We passed the Andaman Islands, whose inhabitants are reported to have a fondness for strangers of a nature different to the Carnicobarbarians – they are Cannibals!

  A steady, pleasant monsoon urged us bravely onwards: a passing squall caught us, which laid the vessel on her side, carried away the flying jib, and split the driver into shreds: the next moment it was quite calm.

  November 7th – We fell in with the Pilot Schooner, off the Sand-heads the pilot came on board, bringing Indian newspapers and fresh news.

  November 10th – We anchored at Ganga Sāgar. Here we bade adieu to our fellow-passengers, and the old Marchioness of Ely: perhaps a more agreeable voyage was never made, in spite of its duration, nearly five months.

  Our neighbours in the stern cabin, very excellent people, and ourselves, no less worthy, hired a decked vessel and proceeded up the Hoogly; that night we anchored off Fulta, and enjoyed fine fresh new milk, etc.; the next tide took us to Bijbij by night, and the following morning we landed at Chāndpāl Ghāt, Calcutta.

  The Hoogly is a fine river, but the banks are very low; the most beautiful part, Garden Reach, we passed during the night. The first sight of the native fishermen in their little dinghies is very remarkable. In the cold of the early morning, they wrap themselves up in folds of linen, and have the appearance of men risen from the dead. Many boats passed us which looked as if

  By skeleton forms the sails were furled,

  And the hand that steered was not of this world.

  November 13th – In the course of a few hours after our arrival, a good house was taken for us, which being sufficiently large to accommodate our companions, we set up our standards together in Park Street, Chowringhee, and thus opened our Indian campaign.

  * Fanny Parks starts many of her chapters with an Oriental Proverb – some more obtuse than others. She also drops them liberally into the text.

  CHAPTER III

  LIFE IN INDIA

  I HAVE SEEN BENGAL: THERE THE TEETH ARE RED AND THE MOUTH IS BLACK

  THE FOUR TROOPS of the 16th Lancers from the Ely disembarked, and encamped on the glacis of Fort William; the General Hewitt, with the remainder of the regiment, did not arrive until six weeks afterwards, having watered at the Cape.

  Calcutta has been styled the City of Palaces, and it well deserves the name. The Government House stands on the Maidān, near the river; the city, and St Andrew’s Church, lie behind it; to the left is that part called Chowringhee, filled with beautiful detached houses, surrounded by gardens; the verandahs, which generally rise from the basement to the highest story give, with their pillars, an air of lightness and beauty to the buildings, and protecting the dwellings from the sun, render them agreeable for exercise in the rainy season.

  The houses are all stuccoed on the outside, and seem as if built of stone. The rent of unfurnished houses in Chowringhee is very high; we gave Rs 325 a month for ours, the larger ones are from Rs 400 to 500 per month.

  The style of an Indian house differs altogether from that of one in England. The floors are entirely covered with Indian matting, than which nothing can be cooler or more agreeable. For a few weeks, in the cold season, fine Persian carpets, or carpets from Mirzapur are used. The windows and doors are many; the windows are to the ground, like the French; and, on the outside, they are also protected by Venetian windows of the same description. The rooms are large and lofty, and to every sleeping-apartment a bathing-room is attached. All the rooms open into one another, with folding-doors, and pankhās are used during the hot weather. The most beautiful French furniture was to be bought in Calcutta of M. de Bast, at whose shop marble tables, fine mirrors, and luxurious couches were in abundance. Very excellent furniture was also to be had at the Europe shops, made by native workmen under the superintendence of European cabinet and furniture makers; and furniture of an inferior description in the native bazaars.

  On arriving in Calcutta, I was charmed with the climate; the weather was delicious; and nothing could exceed the kindness we experienced from our friends. I thought India a most delightful country, and could I have gathered around me the dear ones I had left in England, my happiness would have been complete. The number of servants necessary to an establishment in India is most surprising to a person fresh from Europe: it appeared the commencement of ruin. Their wages are not high, and they find themselves in food; nevertheless, from their number, the expense is very great.

  The Sircār

  A very useful but expensive person in an establishment is a sircār; the man attends every morning early to receive orders, he then proceeds to the bazaars, or to the Europe shops, and brings back for inspection and approval, furniture, books, dresses, or whatever may have been ordered: his profit is a heavy percentage on all he purchases for the family.

  One
morning our sircār, in answer to my having observed that the articles purchased were highly priced, said, ‘You are my father and my mother, and I am your poor little child: I have only taken two annas in the rupee dasturi.’

  This man’s language was a strong specimen of Eastern hyperbole: one day he said to me, ‘You are my mother, and my father, and my God!’ With great disgust, I reproved him severely for using such terms, when he explained, ‘you are my protector and my support, therefore you are to me as my God.’ The offence was never repeated. They dress themselves with the utmost care and most scrupulous neatness in white muslin; and the turban often consists of twenty-one yards of fine Indian muslin, by fourteen inches in breadth, most carefully folded and arranged in small plaits; his reed pen is behind his ear, and the roll of paper in his hand is in readiness for the orders of the sāhib. The shoes are of common leather; sometimes they wear them most elaborately embroidered in gold and silver thread and coloured beads. All men in India wear moustaches; they look on the bare faces of the English with amazement and contempt. The sircār is an Hindu, as shown by the opening of the vest on the right side, and the white dot, the mark of his caste, between his eyes.

  Dasturi is an absolute tax. The darwān will turn from the gate the boxwallas, people who bring articles for sale in boxes, unless he gets dasturi for admittance. If the sāhib buy any article, his sirdār-bearer will demand dasturi. If the memsāhib purchase finery, the ayah must have her dasturi – which, of course, is added by the boxwalla to the price the gentleman is compelled to pay.

  Dasturi is from two to four pice in the rupee; one anna, or one sixteenth of the rupee is, I imagine, generally taken. But all these contending interests are abolished if the sircār purchase the article: he takes the lion’s share. The servants hold him in great respect, as he is generally the person who answers for their characters, and places them in service.

  It appeared curious to be surrounded by servants who, with the exception of the tailor, could not speak one word of English; and I was forced to learn to speak Hindustani.

  To a griffin, as a new-comer is called for the first year, India is a most interesting country; everything appears on so vast a scale, and the novelty is so great.

  In December, the climate was so delightful, it rendered the country preferable to any place under the sun; could it always have continued the same, I should have advised all people to flee unto the East.

  My husband gave me a beautiful Arab, Azor by name, but as the sā’is always persisted in calling him Aurora, or a Roarer, we were obliged to change his name to Rajah. I felt very happy cantering my beautiful high-caste Arab on the race course at six o’clock or, in the evening, on the well-watered drive in front of the Government House. Large birds, called adjutants, stalk about the Maidān in numbers; and on the heads of the lions that crown the entrance arches to the Government House, you are sure to see this bird (the hargila or gigantic crane) in the most picturesque attitudes, looking as if a part of the building itself.

  The arrival of the 16th Lancers, and the approaching departure of the Governor-General, rendered Calcutta extremely gay. Dinner parties and fancy balls were numerous; at the latter, the costumes were excellent and superb.

  December 16th – The Marquis of Hastings gave a ball at the Government House, to the gentlemen of the Civil and Military Services, and the inhabitants of Calcutta; the variety of costume displayed by Nawābs, Rajahs, Mahrattas, Greeks, Turks, Armenians, Musulmāns, and Hindus, and the gay attire of the military, rendered it a very interesting spectacle. Going to the ball was a service of danger, on account of the thickness of one of those remarkable fogs so common an annoyance during the cold season at the Presidency. It was impossible to see the road, although the carriage had lights and two mashalchis, with torches in their hands, preceded the horses; but the glare of the mashals, and the shouts of the men, prevented our meeting with any accident in the dense cloud by which we were surrounded.

  Palanquins were novel objects; the bearers go at a good rate; the pace is neither walking nor running, it is the amble of the biped, in the style of the amble taught the native horses, accompanied by a grunting noise that enables them to keep pālkee. Bilees, hackeries, and khraunchies, came in also for their share of wonder.

  The Sircār

  So few of the gentry in England can afford to keep riding-horses for their wives and daughters that I was surprised, on my arrival in Calcutta, to see almost every lady on horseback; and that not on hired hacks, but on their own good steeds. My astonishment was great one morning on beholding a lady galloping away, on a fiery horse, only three weeks after her confinement. What nerves the woman must have had!

  December 16th – The Civil Service, the military, and the inhabitants of Calcutta gave a farewell ball to the Marquis and Marchioness of Hastings, after which the Governor-General quitted India.

  On Christmas Day the servants adorned the gateways with chaplets (hārs) and garlands of fresh flowers. The bearers and dhobees brought in trays of fruit, cakes, and sweetmeats, with garlands of flowers upon them, and requested bakhshish, probably the origin of our Christmas-boxes. We accepted the sweetmeats, and gave some rupees in return.

  They say that, next to the Chinese, the people of India are the most dexterous thieves in the world; we kept a porter (darwān) at the gate, two watchmen (chaukidārs), and the compound (ground surrounding the house) was encompassed by a high wall.

  January 12th 1832 – There was much talking below amongst the bearers; during the night the shout of the chaukidārs was frequent, to show they were on the alert; nevertheless, the next morning a friend who was staying with us found that his desk, with gold mohurs and valuables in it, had been carried off from his room, together with some clothes and his military cloak. We could not prove the theft, but had reason to believe it was perpetrated by a head table-servant (khānsāmān) whom we had discharged, connived at by the darwān and chaukidārs.

  March 20th – I have now been four months in India, and my idea of the climate has altered considerably; the hot winds are blowing; it is very oppressive; if you go out during the day, I can compare it to nothing but the hot blast you would receive in your face were you suddenly to open the door of an oven.

  The evenings are cool and refreshing; we drive out late; and the moonlit evenings at present are beautiful; when darkness comes on, the fireflies illuminate the trees, which appear full of flitting sparks of fire; these little insects are in swarms; they are very small and ugly, with a light like the glow-worm’s in the tail, which, as they fly, appears and suddenly disappears: how beautifully the trees in the adjoining grounds are illuminated at night, by these little dazzling sparks of fire!

  The first sight of a pankhā is a novelty to a griffin. It is a monstrous fan, a wooden frame covered with cloth, some ten, twenty, thirty, or more feet long, suspended from the ceiling of a room, and moved to and fro by a man outside by means of a rope and pulleys, and a hole in the wall through which the rope passes; the invention is a native one; they are the greatest luxuries, and are also handsome, some being painted and gilt, the ropes covered with silk, and so shaped or scooped as to admit their vibratory motion without touching the chandeliers, suspended in the same line with the pankhā, and when at rest, occupying the space scooped out. In the up-country, the pankhā is always pulled during the night over the chārpāī or bed.

  The weather is very uncertain; sometimes very hot, then suddenly comes a northwester, blowing open every door in the house, attended with a deluge of heavy rain, falling straight down in immense drops: the other evening it was dark as night, the lightning blazed for a second or two with the blue sulphurous light you see represented on the stage; the effect was beautiful; the forked lightning was remarkably strong; I did not envy the ships in the bay.

  The foliage of the trees, so luxuriously beautiful and so novel, is to me a source of constant admiration. When we girls used to laugh at the odd trees on the screens, we wronged the Chinese in imagining they were the produc
tions of fancy; the whole nation was never before accused of having had a fanciful idea, and those trees were copied from nature, as I have found from seeing the same in my drives and rides around Calcutta. The country is quite flat, but the foliage very fine and rich. The idleness of the natives is excessive; for instance, my ayah will dress me, after which she will go to her house, eat her dinner, and then returning, will sleep in one corner of my room on the floor for the whole day. The bearers also do nothing but eat and sleep, when they are not pulling the pankhās.

  Some of the natives are remarkably handsome, but appear far from being strong men. It is impossible to do with a few servants, you must have many; their customs and prejudices are inviolable; a servant will do such and such things, and nothing more. They are great plagues; much more troublesome than English servants. I knew not before the oppressive power of the hot winds, and find myself as listless as any Indian lady is universally considered to be; I can now excuse what I before condemned as indolence and want of energy – so much for experience. The greatest annoyance are the mosquito bites; it is almost impossible not to scratch them, which causes them to inflame, and they are then often very difficult to cure: they are to me much worse than the heat itself; my irritable constitution cannot endure them.