We dropped anchor off the city, amongst a crowd of shipping and a swarm
of boats, with which the river seemed actually alive; some of them home
along by the headlong “freshes,” and athwart the bows of the vessel,
with fearful and dangerous velocity. I was all anxiety to get on shore;
so, without waiting for Marpeet and Grundy, who had some small
toilet-matters, &c., to arrange, I put my boxes and bags into a
_paunchway_—a native boat of a particular description, several of which
lay alongside—and, after shaking Captain Grogwell and his mate by the
hand, thanking them cordially for their hospitality, and expressing a
hope that I should see them again before I left Calcutta, I descended
the side, and was soon on my way to the shore.
“Take care of the land-sharks, sir,” said Grogwell, as I pushed off.
“Have your eyes about you, Gernon, my boy, and take care of yourself,”
cried Marpeet, “and I’ll beat up your quarters in a day or two.”
At the Ghaut, or landing-place, to which my rowers forced their way
through a thick phalanx of boats of all sorts and dimensions—cutters,
dingies, and jolly-boats; paunchways, budgerows, and bowlias, the two
last with painted venetians and goggle-eyed figure-heads—I landed amidst
a crowd and bobbery to which even the Tower-stairs, or the piers of
Boulogne and Calais, with all their motley and voluble groups, can
hardly furnish a parallel. Men, women, and children, sipping, dipping,
and dabbling, like ducklings in a shower; females bearing pots or jars
on their heads, and children, resembling little black monkeys, astride
on their hips; bhisties, or water-carriers, filling their bags from the
turbid tide, well seasoned with cocoa-nut husks, defunct brahmins, dead
dogs, &c.; puckalls, or bullocks, bearing huge skins of the same _pure_
element; palankeen-bearers, gabbling (to me) unintelligible abuse, in
eager competition, pushing into the very river, and banging their
portable boxes one against the other in their struggle to secure fares
amongst the frequent arrivals from the shipping; baboos,
parroquet-venders, chattah-bearers, sailors, lascars, and
adjutant-birds—Europe and Asia commingled in heterogeneous but pleasant
confusion.
I had scarcely attained the top of the Ghaut, or flight of steps, where
I waited till my baggage was brought up and coolies were obtained to
transport it, than I found myself besieged by a bevy of fellows,
mentioned before as baboos, or sircars, and who, though of a distinct
species, I saw at once belonged to the same genus as my friend Ramee
Sawmee Dabash.
“Good marning, Sar,” said one (it was near sunset), ostentatiously
displaying his first _chop_ English, approaching with an easy bend, and
pressing his right palm somewhat gracefully to his forehead: “Master, I
perceive, is recintly arrive at Bengal pris’dency?”
“That’s pretty clear,” said I; “but can you direct me to the
Custom-house, and after that to some good hotel or tavern?”
“Oh, sartainly, Sar; every thing master require than I can do; meditly
box come up, I disperse off with coolie.”
“Gentilman,” said another, in a milder key, “you require ’spectable
sircar; I got highest tistimonial of character; you please read this,
Sar; this from Gin’nel Wilkisseen Sahib, this Wakeel Ishtivil Sahib;”
and so he ran on, murdering several other English names and titles in
succession.
A third, a wizened old fellow, with a pair of spectacles perched at the
end of his nose, proffered his services somewhat in the same way; but I
told them not to trouble themselves or me, as I had determined on
honouring with my commands the first who had presented himself to my
notice. My new _employé_, who rejoiced in the pleasant cognomen of
Chattermohun Ghose, now again put in his oar:
[Illustration: Griffin on Landing besieged by Baboos.]
“Masters name, I think, will be Mr. Gernon”—the rascal had read it on my
box,—“same gentleman as was expect by _Rottenbeam-i-castle_?”
“Yes, it is indeed,” said I, astonished to find myself known; “but how
the devil came you acquainted with it?”
“Oh,” he replied, “we always ver well know whin military gentilmen are
expected at pris’dency from ship; beside—I not know, but I think, master
will have some relation this country—face all same—one gentleman I know,
only more young—leetle more handsome.”
I interposed with “Stuff! none of your blarney; but, perhaps, you mean,
my uncle, Colonel Gernon,” rather pleased to meet so soon after landing
with one even amongst the natives who had probably known a relative:
young people hear so much of their uncles and grandfathers, &c., at
home, that they enter life with an idea that all the world must know
something about them.
“What!” exclaimed Chattermohun—who was a thorough Don Raphael in his
way,—and with well-dissembled pleasure, “What Connel Gernon Sahib master
uncle? I think that all same time. Connel very good gentilman, my bist
of frind—always he impeloy me when he come Calcutta. Connel command
Europan rig’ment, I think, at Danapoor?”
“Oh, no,” I rejoined; “you mistake; my uncle has been some time dead,
and I think was never in a European regiment.”
“That I know, Sar, ver well,” continued Chattermohun briskly, and not at
all disconcerted; “but when live, I mean, belong native rig’ment (I make
small obliteration before) that some time was that place.”
“Yes, yes; he was in the native infantry, certainly,” said I; “but where
stationed is more than I can tell. And so you really knew my uncle, did
you, eh? And think me like him? Perhaps, too, you have heard of another
relation of mine here in India—Mr. Duggins?”
“What Mr. Duggin, what was civil sarvice?”
“No, no,” I answered; “here in the law, in Calcutta.”
“Oh! what master mean Mr. Duggin ’sliciter? Yes, sar, I know him ver
well; he greatly respect-i-me—that time he was live.”
“Why, I trust he’s not dead?” I exclaimed, in astonishment: “he was well
at Bombay the last accounts we had of him.”
“No, Sar, not dead; master not underistand; I mean that time was live
here, Chowrunghee.”
Though rather green and guileless in those days, as maybe inferred from
the foregoing example, and unwilling, unless on something stronger than
mere _primâ facie_ evidence, to imagine deception; yet I began to
suspect that the rascal was humbugging me for a purpose, and was about
to let him know as much, in rather strong terms, when he adroitly
changed the key.
“Master will be in ’tillery, I think?”
“No,” said I impatiently; “infantry, infantry; but don’t bother, and us
be off.”
“All same,” he continued, determined to have his talk out; “master will
require plenty thing, all which I can supply—bist of quality—if require
too good-i-sarvant: will you take this man?—plenty character he got.”
So saying, he presented to my notice a queer, raffish-looking fellow,
with a bush of hair and a black beard, and dressed in quite a
different style of costume to that of the others. This worthy—a
Mussulman khidmutgar or footman—made his salaam, and thrust into my
hand two or three well-soiled certificates, which stated that Ramjahn
Khan (_ang._ Rumjohnny,) had served the writers (captain this and
lieutenant that) with zeal and fidelity, and to their perfect
satisfaction. Of these “characters,” by the way, all domestics have a
stock, or, if not, they borrow or hire them (being as accommodating
one to another in that way, as was the Irish priest who, as related by
the pleasant author of _Wild Sports of the West_, on a pinch, and to
save appearances, gave his friend, the Protestant curate of Connemara,
the loan of his congregation), with sufficient information touching
the subscribers to allow of some slight questioning, though by no
means of an adroit cross-examination—a thing at this time, however, in
the native language, quite beyond my powers, albeit I had puzzled my
brains a little on ship-board with a certain celebrated philologist’s
orthoepigraphico-pseudolatitudio-logical works, and could patter a few
sentences of Hindostanee in the “_Myn nuheen kitai hoon_” style, in a
way really to “astonish the natives.”
To cut the matter short, however, I hired Rumjohnny on the strength of
his testimonials; and having now got my baggage all up, moved off with
him and Chattermohun Ghose to the Custom-house. Having arranged matters
there, I proceeded through the thronged streets of Calcutta to a tavern
or punch-house, somewhere in the aristocratic region of Ranamoody Gully;
a sort of place of entertainment which, in those days (though, from
their improved character the case is now, I understand, different), it
was considered quite _infra dig._ in a gentleman to visit. However,
being a griff, I knew nothing of this, and if the case had been
otherwise, I should have been without an alternative. Dirty tablecloths,
well spotted with kail and mustard; prawn curries, capital beef-steaks,
domestics of the cut of Rumjohnny, a rickety, rusty, torn
billiard-table, on which, day and night, the balls were going, lots of
_shippies_, and a dingy bed, were the leading features of this
establishment, not forgetting clouds of voracious and well-fleshed
musquitoes, to which those of Madras were a mere joke.
I shall not inflict on the reader a dry detail of the occurrences of the
next three days; let it suffice to state, that at the end of that
period, having duly reported my arrival, &c., I found myself in
possession of an advance of 150 sicca rupees, sterling money of Bengal,
four bare walls and a puckah floor in the south barracks of Fort
William, and about to fit up the same in the first style of griffinish
fashion, under the able direction of Chattermohun Ghose.
The south barracks is one of several ranges within the Fort, and
allotted principally to the accommodation of unmarried subs. Like the
Burlington Arcade, it has a long passage down the centre, into which the
doors of the several quarters open; but here the resemblance ceases.
Here I had a practical illustration of the ill-working of the social
system, the living in a species of community under the present
discordant and defective state of our feelings and habits. The passage
was sounding and reverberating, and each occupant of a quarter had much
of the benefit of his neighbour’s flute, fiddle, or French horn, whether
“i’ the vein” for harmony or not; shoe brushings, occasional yells of
servants undergoing the discipline of fist or cane, jolly ensigns and
cadets clattering up and down, cracking horsewhips, whistling the
“_Flaxen-headed Cow-boy_” or “_Begone Dull Care_,” the arrival of files
of coolies laden with purchases from the China Bazaar or Tulloch’s
Auction Room, pleasantly varied by interminable wranglings on the part
of master’s sirdar or bursar, touching payments and _dustoorie_, or
custom; payees urging pleas in deprecation of abatement, sirdar
overruling the same—constituted a few of the _désagrémens_ of a
south-barrack life. The optical department was not less varied and
novel; but it could be shut out at pleasure, an advantage not predicable
of the former.
The aspect of the passage varied with the hour; he who strolled down it,
about the hour of dawn, or a little after, might catch glimpses, through
half-opened doors, of all stages of the toilet, from soap-suds and
dressing-gowns, to what painters term the “_ultima basia_” or finishing
touches; possibly, too, he might have a peep at the ensign’s lady, “the
soldier’s bride,” divested of all the romance with which song-composers
and novelists are wont to invest her; hair _en papillottes_, sleeves
tucked up, and washing Augustus or Tommy. At ten, the scene was changed;
without the doors, on the ground, might be seen a goodly display of
trays, with egg-shells, fish-bones, rice, muffin, and other wrecks of
breakfast; sweepers—certain degraded menials, “all same caste as
master,”—squatting near and waiting for the said remnants; hookhas or
kulians in course of preparation for those who indulged in the luxury of
smoking; and here and there, perhaps, a sergeant, havildar, or strapping
grenadier sepoy, waiting for the summons from within to give this
morning’s report:—noon and evening, tiffin and dinner, each brought its
appropriate proceedings, and varied the aspect of the common passage,
which will long, with the force of a first impression, remain strongly
engraven on my memory.
Of late years, with the view of protecting young officers on their
arrival, from those impositions, scrapes, and embarrassments, to which,
owing to their youth and inexperience, they were formerly exposed, the
Government has considerately created an appointment, called the
“superintendent of cadets,”—a measure well calculated to mitigate the
evil.
The system of sending youths to India at the early ages of fifteen or
sixteen, appears to me to be one fraught with evil, against which its
advantages weigh but as dust in the balance. At that early age, the
character and principles are generally quite unformed, and, intoxicated
on becoming uncontrolled master of himself, emancipated from the
thraldom of home or school, the cadet launches or did launch (unless, in
this “go-ahead” age, things have greatly altered) into idleness,
dissipation, and frivolity, feeling through life (if not cut off in his
prime) the effects of habits and follies which, under all circumstances,
and knowing youth’s plastic nature, it was not probable he would avoid.
Often the finest natures are the first to fall victims to the absence of
salutary restraint, or they plough their way to wisdom through bitter
experience, finding that “gem above price” when it is probably too late
to be of use to them. The wildnesses and consequent _escapades_ of such
boys have tended to lower the European character very considerably in
the estimation of the natives; and the sepoys, and above all, the
veteran native officers, must, and I am convinced do, feel strongly
their being subjected to the control and caprice of such striplings. It
is, perhaps, an unavoidable consequence of our anomalous rule in India,
that the native should in no case be allowed to command the European;
but, wherever possible, we should at least avoid placing hoary age and
madcap inexperience in such a degrading juxtaposition. I have known such
youths (truth obliges me to include myself amongst the number) order
about, and not unfrequently use harsh and unbecoming language to
venerable native officers, whose silver beards, and breasts covered with
medals, spoke of many a campaign, and services rendered to the state,
before probably even the stripling’s sire was in existence. As the
empire of opinion—the awe which our superior energy and science have
inspired—dies away, and even now it is on the wane—it will be well to
have a store of affection on which to fall back—an anchorage in the
hearts of the people of India, when our power over their prejudices has
relaxed its hold.
Chattermohun Ghose, having, as a preliminary proceeding, given me a list
of things which I _must have_—Bengal indispensables—and having been duly
authorized to procure the same, he very soon made his appearance with
about a dozen and a half of coolies or porters, bearing, amongst other
articles, a camp-table, a cane-bottom sleeping-cot, a _setringie_, or
cotton carpet, about one-third the size of my room, two chairs, some
Chinese chinaware, and copper cooking-utensils, and a huge basin,
something of the shape of Mambrino’s helmet, on an iron tripod stand,
which it puzzled me sorely to guess the use of.
“What do you call this, Chattermohun?” said I; “is it a chafing-dish, or
what?”
“Chafey-dish! no, Sar; that call _chillumchee_, for wash hand, with
ablution—all gentilmen have chillumchee.”
The appendages of the toilet, by the way, and the manner in which it is
performed, in India, amongst Europeans, differ so essentially from those
of home, that they excite considerable surprise in the new comer.
“Master, I think, will want mil’tary coat,” said my grand purveyor!
“Faith! that’s true,” said I; “and it reminds me that I have some red
cloth, furnished by Messrs. Welsh and Stalker, for the express purpose.”
“Ver well, Sar; then I bring dhirgee (tailor), make up in room; same
time, I bring small piece yellow-cloth for facing; also one _ishilki_
sash, and reg’lation sword, all complit.”
“Bring a tailor!” said I; “what, do your tailors here go out to work?”
“Yes, Sar; this custom this contree; not all same Calcutta as Europe.”
“So I perceive,” I replied.
The tailor shortly after made his appearance, squatted himself
cross-legged in the apartment, and was soon hard at work at my red
jacket. He was a little old fragile fellow, who sat and plied his
needle, the only instrument he seemed fitted to wield, with an air of
apathetic quietude and resignation, which it seemed as if no conceivable
movement of the outside world could for a moment disturb, and which, to
one of my then mercurial temperament, was utterly astounding. This
little fractional portion of humanity, who was bent from age or
infirmity, took my measure with exceeding gentleness, and I think I now
see him with the few scanty hairs of his grey moustache, and his thin
horny nose, pinched by a pair of spectacles secured by a thread pinned
to the front of his turban, as he moved silently about me, in the calm
exercise of this incipient act of his vocation. Poor little old Kalipha!
Long since, doubtless, hast thou closed the “even tenor of thy way;” thy
quiet, inglorious, though useful occupation; and added thy handful of
soda and potash to the ever-changing bosom of old mother-earth!
After having established myself pretty comfortably in the south
barracks, I despatched my letters of introduction to the several parties
to whom they were addressed; amongst the number was one to General
Capsicum. A few were from weighty and influential persons at home, and
all had thumping big seals, and “favoured by Mr. Cadet Gernon” written
in the corners. I used to reckon them up about once a week on
ship-board, as a miser counts his treasures; speculating on their
contents, and building _chateaux en Espagne_ touching the pleasant
results which would, I imagined, doubtless follow their delivery. This,
thought I, constructing my airy fabric after the manner of Alnaschar,
and gazing complacently on my _cheval de bataille_, my “great gun,”
furnished by a certain member of the peerage, this will inevitably bring
an aide-de-camp, post-haste, to invite me to the Government-house. I
shall be placed on the staff, wear a cocked-hat and aiguilettes, carve
the hams and turkeys, laugh at the Governor-general’s jokes, carry the
Governor-general’s lady’s prayer-book—live in clover, loved and
respected, the pet and confidential friend of the family: a capital
appointment will follow in due course; wealth, honour, will pour upon
me; and, to crown my felicity, some high-born damsel will eventually
become Mrs. Gernon! Ye gods! what a career of prosperity did I picture,
as I contemplated that massive letter with its coronetted seal and crest
(an ominous griffin) all _proper_. Heigho! Four dinners, three
breakfasts, and a tiffin, were all I gained by the whole batch of
introductions; and as for the Governor-general, I grieve to say, that I
found him lamentably deficient in that penetration and power of just
appreciation of character for which I had given him credit.
I was sitting in my barrack-rooms next morning after breakfast, amusing
myself by pitching bones and crusts out of the window to a bevy of
adjutant-birds below, opening their jaws expectingly, or clattering
their huge beaks whilst contending for a bone, with the sound of
marrow-bones and cleavers, when the door opened, and, to my agreeable
surprise, in walked Captain Marpeet, his face radiant with smiles. A
cordial greeting followed for, though coarse and illiterate for a man in
his station, Marpeet was a warm-hearted, blunt, and generous fellow, and
I had a sincere regard for him. Being an “old hand,” he assumed the
Mentor towards Grundy and me, to which office, as it was not often
offensively obtruded, I quietly submitted, with proper griffinish
humility.
“Well!” said he, looking up and down and round about, “so here you are,
all snug and tight, regularly boxed up in this noisy hole?”
“Any thing by way of exchange,” I replied, “after five months on
ship-board; but to tell you the truth, it has its merits, and I rather
like it on other grounds. Here, you see, I am, with all my comforts
about me,” pointing rather ostentatiously to my two chairs, cot, and
camp-table, and to my brazen chillumchee, in radiant brightness standing
in the corner, “and from these, my head-quarters, I mean to sally out
ever and anon, to mingle a little in the gay world of Calcutta, before I
start for the Upper Provinces.”
“Well,” said Marpeet, laughing; “I see, ‘for a griff,’ that you have a
pretty good notion of things in general, and I don’t care if I join you
in a spree or two before I leave. You griffs require an ‘old hand’ to
look after you, or you will be always doing some soft thing or another.
But have you been playing a knife and fork anywhere yet? been to any
grand ‘feed’ since you arrived?”
“Dinners and parties, eh? No, not as yet; but there is abundance of time
for that, for it was only yesterday that I fired off a grand salvo of
letters, which will doubtless, in due time, bring invitations ‘as thick
as leaves on Vallombrosa.’”
“Leaves on! pshaw! can’t you say ‘black-berries’ at once? I wish,
Gernon, you were not so confoundedly poetical; I hate poetry mortally;
it is griffinish; give me matters of fact, something I can understand.
Dundas, or a number of the _Sporting Magazine_, or the like.”
“There’s no help for it,” said I; “it’s my nature, and nature we may
modify, but cannot radically change.”
“Philosophizing; that’s worse still. But, joking apart, don’t be too
sure of the invitations, or you may reckon without your host. I’m an
‘old hand’ (Marpeet’s everlasting boast), and have seen a little of
Calcutta in my time, and I know, whatever the folks once were, they are
now becoming most infernally _pucka_ (stingy), and will soon, I verily
believe, be as bad as they are in England, where a leg o’mutton goes
through the nineteen manœuvres before it is dismissed, and a man thinks
he confers an everlasting obligation if he asks you to dinner.”
“Ha, ha, ha! you old splenetic _Qui Hye_,” I exclaimed, “you are too
hard on us ‘Englishers;’ you don’t consider the difference of
circumstances, and that, where mouths are many and legs o’mutton few, we
must resort to expedients to square supply and demand.”
“But,” resumed the rough-spun captain, “now let me fulfil the principal
object of my visit, which is to congratulate you.”
“For what?” I asked.
“What? why are you so ignorant, so out of the world, as not to know that
you are promoted?”
“Promoted!” exclaimed I; “why Grinnerson said I should be in luck if I
got my commission in five years.”
The captain put a _Gazette_ into my hand, doubled it up in a compact
form, and, striking a particular portion _con spirito_ with his
forefinger, “Read that,” said he.
I took it in a sort of ecstacy, caught a glimpse of my own name.
Yes—there I was, actually in print: “Mr. Gernon, appointed by the
Honourable Court of Directors a cadet on this establishment, having
reported his arrival at Fort William, is admitted to the service
accordingly, and promoted to the rank of ensign.”
“Yoics! full ensign!” shouted I, springing up, snapping my fingers, and
capering round the room arms a-kimbo, hip and toe, like a sailor dancing
a hornpipe, to the infinite astonishment of Marpeet, who thought I had
been bitten by a scorpion or snake.
“Hey! hey! what’s the matter Gernon? are you mad, you Griff, are you
mad?”
“I am mad, old square-toes; come along,” said I, hauling him out of his
chair; “come and rejoice with me. Promoted already! Yoics! Tally-ho!”
In the midst of our uproar and saraband, Grundy entered, and gazed with
open mouth, like one moonstruck, at our mad dervish dance. His
appearance, however, calmed any ebullition, and pushing Marpeet into his
seat, I sunk into mine.
“What’s the matter?” said he.
“Why, I’m promoted, my honest young ploughshare,” said I, “that’s all;
we were footing a jig on the strength of it. I dare say you will find
your name there too.”
“Oh, yes,” observed Marpeet; “the whole batch of the last griffs are in
the general orders. There,” added he, tossing the paper to Grundy,
“you’ll find yourself there, farmer, at full length.”
Grundy took the paper, and beheld his own mellifluous name; but his
pleasure manifested itself in a different manner from mine; he “grinned
horribly a ghastly smile.”
“As you are so fond of dancing,” said Marpeet, “what say you to joining
a hop to-morrow evening?”
“With all my heart,” said I; “always ready for a ‘trip on the fantastic
toe;’ but who is your friend?”
“Why,” rejoined the captain, “I have a ‘provoke’ here from the mistress
of the Kidderpore establishment for the orphan daughters of officers
(where, by the way, I expect my young Mogulanee will figure some of
these days), to attend a dance to-morrow; they have a ball there once a
fortnight (I believe), to show off the girls, and give them an
opportunity of getting spliced.”
“That’s a new feature of schools; in England, if I remember rightly, the
efforts of the mistresses tend all the other way—to keep the girls from
getting married.”
“That,” said Marpeet, “would never do in India, where women are thinking
of getting buried about the age at which they talk of being married in
lat. 50° N. Yes, this is the place for the man who wants a wife, and
wishes to be met half-way, detesting, like me, the toil of wooing. There
he can go, and if he sees a girl he likes, good fore-hand, clean about
the fetlock-joints, free in her paces, sound and quiet, and not too long
in the tooth, if not bespoke, he’ll not find much difficulty in getting
her. But if you and Grundy will go, I’ll get you smuggled in somehow or
other, and will call for you in proper time to-morrow.”
“Thank you,” said I; “never fear for me, for I’m all anxiety to see
these young ladies of the equestrian order, whom you so pleasantly
describe. Besides, old Stultz, here in the corner, has just finished my
red coat, and I am all anxiety to sport it for the first time.”
“Well, good-bye, lads,” said the captain; “I’m off to Tulloh’s auction,
to see if I can’t pick up a cheap buggy, and a few other things I want.”
So saying, he disappeared, leaving Grundy and me to ruminate on the
foregoing matters.
“Grundy,” said I, after a pause, “you must really get a red coat, sword,
and sash, and make yourself look like a Christian, if you go to this
ball to-morrow night; excuse my giving you a hint.”
“I’m afraid there’s not time for it,” said Grundy, “and I have nothing
of the sort as yet.”
“Well, leave it to me; Chattermohun is a sharp fellow, at a pinch; and
I’ll engage, with his assistance, to rig you out for the evening.”