Wanderings of a pilgrim in search of the picturesque, Volume 1 (of 2)

by Fanny Parkes Parlby

WANDERINGS OF A PILGRIM.

CHAPTER I.
DEPARTURE FROM ENGLAND.

1822, April.—Flying Visit to Switzerland—The good Ship ‘Marchioness of Ely’—H. M. 16th Lancers—Porto Santo—Fellow-Passengers—Isle of Palma—Divine Service—The Band—Quadrilles—The first Shark—Bristol Water—Skip-jacks—Prickly heat—Crossing the Line—Amusements on Board—A Blue Shark—Sucking-Fish—Bonito—Santa Trinidada and Martin Vas Rocks—The Albatross—Thoughts of Home—A Calm—Shooting Season on the Ocean—Three Days of Battue—Whale-Shooting—A deep Calm—Scarcity of Water—Anchored at Carnicobar.

In April, 1822, Monsieur mon mari took me to Switzerland. For the first time, I quitted England. How beautiful was the Valley of Chamouni! how delightful our expedition on the La Flegère! The guides pronounced it too early in the year to attempt the ascent of Mont Blanc. We quitted the valley with regret, and returned to Geneva: but our plans were frustrated, and our hopes disappointed; for, on reaching the hotel, we found a letter requiring our instant return to England. The ‘Marchioness of Ely,’ in which we had taken our passage to Bengal, was reported to be ready to sail in a few days: no time was to be lost; we started immediately, travelled night and day incessantly, and arrived, greatly harassed, in town. The illness brought on by the over-fatigue of that journey never quitted me for years. The vessel, however, was merely preparing for her departure, and did not sail until long after.

Happily the pain of separation from the beloved home of my childhood was broken by the necessity of exertion in preparation for the voyage.

June 13th.—We went to Gravesend, to see the ship: it was scarcely possible to enter our destined abode, the larboard stern cabin; so full was it to overflowing—boxes of clothes, hampers of soda water, crates of china and glass—a marvellous confusion! After a time the hampers and boxes were carried below, the furniture cleated and lashed, and some sort of order was established.

We had carefully selected a ship that was not to carry troops: we now found the ‘Ely’ had been taken up to convey four troops of H. M. 16th Lancers; the remainder of the regiment was to sail in the ‘General Hewitt.’ Some of our fellow-passengers were on board on the same errand as ourselves.

June 18th.—We had lingered with our friends, and had deferred the sad farewell until the last moment: half uncertain if we should be in time to catch the ship in the Downs, we posted to Deal, took refuge at the ‘Three Kings,’ and had the satisfaction of watching the ‘Marchioness of Ely,’ and the ‘Winchelsea’ her companion, as they bore down. At 11 P.M. we went on board, and sailed the next day. There was such a glorious confusion on deck, that those who were novices in military and naval affairs might deem, as they gazed around, it could never subside into any thing approaching order. Every one, however, was saying it would be very different when the ship was at sea; of which, indeed, there was little doubt, for to go on as we were would have been impossible. Off the Isle of Wight the pilot left us to our captain’s guidance; the breeze was favourable; we were sailing so smoothly, there was scarcely any motion. The last farewell tears dropped as I passed the Needles and the coast of Hampshire, whilst memory recalled the happy days I had spent there, and in the Forest, the beautiful Forest!

Such thoughts and feelings it was necessary to throw aside. I joined the party in the cuddy, scrutinized the strange faces, and retired to my cabin, with as solitary a feeling as if my husband and I had been exiles for ever.

The voyage began prosperously; I was satisfied with the captain, with my cabin, with my servant, and happy with my lord and master.

We regretted we had taken our passage in a ship full of troops, and anticipated we should be debarred taking exercise on the quarter-deck, and enjoying ourselves with walk and talk during the fine moonlight nights. In the ‘Ely’ it appeared as if it would be impossible; were you to attempt it, you would be sure to blunder over some sleeping Lancer. However, the band was on board—some small consolation; and as the society was large, there was more chance of entertainment.

July 1st.—Porto Santo looked beautiful, its head enveloped in clouds. The rocky island rises boldly out of the sea; its mountains are very picturesque. The sight of land and white châteaux was quite charming.

I now began to recover from the maladie de mer, and to regain my usual good spirits. Creatures of habit, we soon grew accustomed to the small space. The stem cabin, twelve feet by ten, at first sight appeared most extremely inconvenient; but now it seemed to have enlarged itself, and we were more comfortable. Still sleep would scarcely visit me, until a swinging cot was procured. From that time I slept calmly and quietly, whatever pranks the old ‘Ely’ might choose to play.

The comfort or discomfort of a voyage greatly depends upon your fellow-passengers. In this respect we were most fortunate; one-half the officers of the 16th Lancers were in the ‘Ely.’ The old 16th to me were friends; my father, who had been many years in the regiment, was forced to quit it, in consequence of a severe wound he received in action in the Pays Bas, under the command of the Duke of York. My uncle had commanded the gallant regiment in Spain, and other relatives had also been many years with the regiment. Chance had thrown us amongst friends.

Perhaps no friendships are stronger than those formed on board ship, where the tempers and dispositions are so much set forth in their true colours.

July 4th.—We passed the Isle of Palma; it looked beautiful, rising abruptly from the sea; the trees appeared fine and numerous. We are in the trade winds, going generally about eight knots an hour; the evenings are delicious; little or no dew falls so far from land; in the evening we sit on deck, and enjoy the breeze. The moon is reflected so beautifully on the waves, the nights are so warm, the air so pure, the climate so agreeable, I could willingly turn canary bird, and take up my residence in this latitude.

Sometimes quadrilles are danced by the light of the moon; sometimes by the glare of half-a-dozen lanterns. There is little or no motion in the vessel; no events occur; yes—let me not forget—a little boy fell into the pea-soup and got a ducking; luckily for him, it was nearly cold. “The misfortunes of the stable fall on the head of the monkey[8].” The deck presents a curious assemblage: Lancers at extension exercise, women working, sailors hauling, children at school, ladies reading or talking in groups—altogether an amusing scene.

On Sundays Divine service is performed; the psalms are sung in very good style, accompanied by the Lancer band. The weather is hot; the thermometer 79° in our cabin, 81° in the cuddy, which at dinner-time contains six-and-thirty people. To-day a shark was caught; it was attended by three pilot fish, which, they say, guide the shark to its prey. These small fish are very pretty, and striped like zebras. The shark was hooked and dragged up by the stern windows; he struggled manfully, but was soon despatched.

A little flying-fish flew into one of the ports to escape the pursuit of a larger fish; it was small and curious, but not so pretty as one would imagine. Two large fins spread out on its sides, like wings. It was a novelty to most of the passengers.

July 22nd.—What a strange, bustling life! This is baggage-day; all the trunks are on deck—such a confusion! I am suffering from maladie de mer; the wind is contrary; we tack and veer most tiresomely; the ship pitches; we cling about like cats, and are at our wits’ end, striving to endure our miseries with patience.

The Bristol water is invaluable, the ship water very black, and it smells vilely. I knew not before the value of good water; and, were it not for the shower bath, should be apt to wish myself where Truth is—at the bottom of a well.

Yesterday such a noise arose on deck, it brought me to the scene of action in a minute: “Come here! come here! look! look! There they go, like a pack of hounds in full cry!” I did come, and I did look; and there were some hundred of skip-jacks leaping out of the water, and following each other with great rapidity across the head of the ship. When many fish leaped up together, there was such laughing, shouting, pointing, and gazing, from four hundred full-grown people, it was absurd to see how much amusement the poor fish occasioned. I looked alternately at the fish and the people, and laughed at both.

A kind of rash teases me; in these latitudes they call it prickly heat, vow you cannot be healthy without it, and affirm that every one ought to be glad to have it. So am not I.

Having beaten about the line for a fortnight, with a contrary wind, at length we entertained hopes of crossing it, and letters were received on board from Neptune and Amphitrite, requesting to be supplied with clothes, having lost their own in a gale of wind.

July 30th.—Neptune and his lady came on board to acquaint the captain they would visit him in form the next day. The captain wished the god good night, when instantly the deck was deluged with showers of water from the main-top, while a flaming tar-barrel was thrown overboard, in which Neptune was supposed to have vanished in flame and water.

July 31st.—At 9 A.M. the private soldiers who were not to be shaved were stationed on the poop with their wives; on the quarter-deck the officers and ladies awaited the arrival of the ocean-god. First in procession marched the band, playing “God save the King;” several grotesque figures followed; then came the car of Neptune—a gun-carriage—with such a creature for a coachman! The carriage was drawn by six half-naked seamen, painted to represent Tritons, who were chained to the vehicle. We beheld the monarch and his bride, seated in the car, with a lovely girl, whom he called his tender offspring. These ladies were represented by the most brawny, muscular, ugly and powerful fellows in the ship; the letters requesting female attire having procured an abundance of finery. The boatswain’s mate, a powerful man, naked to the waist, with a pasteboard crown upon his head and his speaking-trumpet in his hand, who represented Neptune, descended from his car, and offered the captain two fowls as tropical birds, and a salted fish on the end of a trident, lamenting that the late boisterous weather had prevented his bringing any fresh. A doctor, a barber with a notched razor, a sea-bear and its keeper, closed the procession.

Re-ascending the car, they took their station in front of the poop, and a rope was drawn across the deck to represent the line. Neptune then summoned the colonel-commandant of the Lancers to his presence, who informed him he had before entered his dominions. The major was then conducted, by a fellow calling himself a constable, to the foot of the car: he went up, expecting to be shaved, but the sea god desired him to present his wife to Amphitrite. After the introduction they were both dismissed.

My husband and myself were then summoned: he pleaded having crossed the line before. Neptune said that would not avail, as his lady had entered the small latitudes for the first time. After a laughable discussion, of to be shaved or not to be shaved, we were allowed to retire. The remainder of the passengers were summoned in turn. The sentence of shaving was passed upon all who had not crossed the line, but not carried into execution on the officers of the ship. The crew were shaved and ducked in form, and in all good humour. In the mean time the fire-engine drenched every body on deck, and the officers and passengers amused themselves for hours throwing water over each other from buckets. Imagine four hundred people ducking one another, and you may have some idea of the frolic. In the evening the sailors danced, sang, recited verses, and spliced the main brace[9], until very late, and the day ended as jovially as it began. Several times they charmed us with an appropriate song, roared at the utmost pitch of their stentorian lungs, to the tune of “There’s na luck about the house.”

“We’ll lather away, and shave away,

And lather away so fine,

We always have a shaving day

Whenever we cross the line.”

With sorrow I confess to having forgotten the remainder of the ditty, which ended—

“There’s nothing half so sweet in life

As crossing of the line.”

“Rule Britannia,” with a subscription for the ruler of the seas, was the finale, leaving every one perfectly satisfied with his portion of salt water. It was agreed the rites and ceremonies had never been better performed or with greater good humour.

Colonel Luard’s beautiful and faithful sketches have since been presented to the public. Watching his ready pencil, as it portrayed the passing scene, was one of the pleasures of the ‘Ely;’ and I feel greatly obliged to him for having given me permission to add copies of some of his original sketches to my journal.

Neptune was accompanied on board by a flying-fish that came in at one of the ports, perhaps to escape from an albicore: a lucky omen. The gentlemen amuse themselves with firing at the albatross, as they fly round and round the vessel; as yet, no damage has been done—the great birds shake their thick plumage, and laugh at the shot.

The favourite game is pitch-and-toss for dollars. Boxing is another method of spending time. Chess and backgammon-boards are in high request; when the evenings are not calm enough for a quadrille or a waltz on deck, the passengers retire to the cuddy, to whist or blind hookey, and dollars are brought to table in cases that formerly contained Gamble’s most excellent portable soup! On the very general introduction of caoutchouc into every department of the arts and sciences, some of the principal ship-builders proposed to form the keels of their vessels of indian-rubber, but abandoned the project apprehending the entire effacement of the equinoctial line.

Aug. 1st.—Caught a bonito and a sea-scorpion; the latter was of a beautiful purple colour, the under part white: also a nautilus and a blue shark; in the latter were four-and-twenty young ones. The shark measured seven feet; its young from twelve to fourteen inches. The colour of the back was blue, of the belly white; several sucking-fish were upon the monster, of which some were lost in hauling him on board: one of those caught measured nine inches and a half; it stuck firmly to my hand in an instant.

Our amusements concluded with viewing an eclipse of the moon.

A stiff gale split the mainsail and blew the foretop and mizentop sails to pieces: no further damage was sustained. I enjoyed the sight of the fine waves that tossed the vessel as if she were a cockle-shell.

We caught two Cape pigeons, very beautiful birds; the moment they were brought on deck they suffered extremely from maladie de mer!

Aug. 11th.—During Divine service we came in sight of San Trinidada and Martin Vas Rocks; the former distant twelve miles, the latter thirty.

Aug. 16th.—Lat. 27° S., long. 19° W.—The annexed lithograph is from an original drawing of Colonel Luard’s, and the following extract from his “Views in India:”—

“This drawing represents the numerous birds that constantly follow ships from lat. 27° S. to lat. 40° S., constantly hovering about the ship, and picking up anything eatable which may be thrown overboard. The pintado, or Cape pigeon, a very pretty bird, black and white striped all over, is the most numerous. They fly backwards and forwards across the ship’s wake, in such numbers and so carelessly, that they are frequently caught by entangling their wings in lines thrown over the stern of the ship to catch the albatross. This immense bird is also portrayed in the drawing, whose astonishing power, fierceness, and fleetness, render him formidable amongst the feathered tribe of these regions. There is an instance on record of a man having fallen overboard from a ship-of-war, when a noble-minded midshipman instantly jumped overboard, and, from his power as a swimmer, would probably have rescued the sailor from a watery grave, had not an albatross passing at the moment stooped upon the generous youth, and struck him upon the head: he sank to rise no more! Both he and the sailor were drowned.”

S. LAT: 27°. W. LONG: 19°.

On Stone by Major Parlby. From an Original Drawing by Colˡ Luard.

Aug. 23rd.—There is a ship alongside! a ship bound for England! it speaks of home and the beloved ones, and although I am as happy as possible, my heart still turns to those who have heretofore been all and everything to me, with a warmth of affection at once delightful and very painful.

Aug. 27th.—Lat. 32° 9′ S., long. 4° 25′ E.—A dead calm! give me any day a storm and a half in preference! It was so miserable—a long heavy swell, without a ripple on the waves; the ship rolled from side to side without advancing one inch; she groaned in all her timbers: the old ‘Marchioness’ appeared to suffer and be as miserable as myself. The calm continued the next day, and the rolling also; the captain kindly allowed the jolly-boat to be lowered, in which some of the Lancers and my husband went out shooting.

This day, the 28th of August, was the commencement of the shooting season: game was in abundance, and they sought it over the long heavy swell of the glasslike and unrippled sea. The sportsmen returned with forty head of game: in this number was an albatross, measuring nine feet from the tip of one wing to that of the other; a Cape hen, a sea-swallow, with several pintado and other birds.

When the boat returned, it brought good fortune; the wind instantly sprang up, and we went on our way rejoicing. This day a whale was seen at a distance; if it had approached the vessel, a captain of the Lancers had prepared a Congreve rocket for its acceptance.

Sept. 1st.—We spoke a Dutchman off the Cape, looking in a very pitiable condition: the same gale which had damaged her overtook us, and blew heavily and disagreeably for three days. The weather was very cold and wet, and we felt disappointed at not touching at the Cape.

Sept. 10th.—Lat. 36° 43′ S., lon. 45° 30′ W., ther. 64°.—Another calm, and another battue: the gentlemen returned from the watery plain with great éclat, bringing seven albatross, thirty pintados, a Cape hen, and two garnets. One of the albatross, which was stuffed for me, measured fifty-three inches from head to tail, and nine feet ten inches across the wings.

Sept. 20th.—In the evening we passed St. Paul’s and Amsterdam, but the haziness of the weather prevented our seeing them. This, the most southerly point of our voyage, was also the coldest. The cold was really painful.

Sept. 23.—A school[10] of twenty or thirty whales passed near the ship; it was almost a calm; they were constantly on the surface, frolicking and spouting away. They were, the sailors said, of the spermaceti order, which are smaller in size, and do not spout so high as the larger race. I was disappointed. Two of the officers of the Lancers rowed within ten yards of a large whale, and fired a Congreve rocket into its body; the whale gave a spring and dived instantly. The rocket would explode in a few seconds and kill him: a good prize for the first ship that falls in with the floating carcase. They fired at another, but the rocket exploded under water and came up smoking to the surface. The boat returned safely to the ship, but it was rather a nervous affair.

Sept. 25th.—Another calm allowed of more shooting, and great was the slaughter of sea game. I must make an extract from Colonel Luard’s work, speaking of a battle that took place on the 10th:—“The Cape hen was a large fierce black bird, and only having its wing broken, tried to bite every person’s legs in the boat. When she was placed on the ship’s quarter-deck, a small terrier belonging to one of the officers attacked her, and they fought for some time with uncertain advantage; the bloody streams from the dog proving the severity of the bird’s bite: at last the terrier seized his adversary by the throat, when the battle and the bird’s life ended together. In lat. 4° 13′ S., long. 93° 11′ E., the thermometer in the sun standing at 130°, and in the shade 97°, two small birds, in every respect resembling the English swallow, came about the ship. One of them was caught, and died; the other (probably in hopes of rejoining its companion) remained with the ship fourteen or fifteen days, frequently coming into the cabins and roosting there during the night. It was at last missing; and, not being an aquatic bird, perhaps met a watery death.”

During the time of the battue on the third day, three sharks were astern; we caught one that had a young one by her side. When opened on deck, a family of twenty-four were found, each about twelve or fourteen inches long; the mother measured seven feet. The shark is said to swallow its young when in peril, and to disgorge them when the danger has passed. The curious birds and fish we see relieve the tedium of the voyage.

We now looked impatiently for the end of our passage, and counted the days like schoolboys expecting their vacation. It was amusing to hear the various plans the different people on board intended to pursue on landing—all too English by far for the climate to which they were bound.

The birds were numerous south of the tropics; we saw few within them. The flying-fish are never found beyond the tropics.

Oct. 11th.—Lat. 4° 20′ S., long. 93° 11′ E.—The heat was very great; the vertical sun poured down its sickening rays, the thermometer in the shade of the coolest cabin 86°; not a breath of air; we felt severely the sudden change of temperature. The sails flapped against the mast, and we only made progress seventeen knots in the twenty-four hours! Thus passed eleven days—the shower bath kept us alive, and our health was better than when we quitted England. M. mon mari, who was studying Persian, began to teach me Hindostanee, which afforded me much pleasure.

In spite of the calm there was gaiety on board; the band played delightfully, our fellow-passengers were agreeable, and the calm evenings allowed of quadrilles and waltzing on the deck, which was lighted up with lanterns and decorated with flags.

We spoke the ‘Winchelsea,’ which had quitted the Downs seven days before us and experienced heavy weather off the Cape: it was some consolation to have been at sea a shorter time than our companion. But little sickness was on board; a young private of the Lancers fell overboard, it was supposed, during a squall, and was lost; he was not even missed until the next day: a sick Lancer died, and a little child also; they were buried at sea: the bill of health was uncommonly good. A burial at sea, when first witnessed, is very solemn and impressive.

We passed an English ship—the Lancer band played “God save the King,” the vessel answered with three cheers. It was painful to meet a homeward-bound ship; it reminded me of home, country, and, dearer still, of friends. The sailors have a superstition, that sharks always follow a ship when a corpse is on board: the night after the man fell overboard, the Lancer and the child died; the day they were buried three sharks were astern. I thought of the sailors’ superstition; no sharks had been seen alongside for three weeks. The sunsets on and near the line are truly magnificent, nothing is more glorious—the nights are beautiful, no dew, no breeze, the stars shining as they do on a frosty night at home, and we are gasping for a breath of air! A sea-snake about a yard and a half long was caught—many turtle were seen, but they sank the moment the boat approached them. A subscription lottery was made; the person whose ticket bears the date of our arrival at Saugor will win the amount.

Oct. 22nd.—Becalmed for eighteen days! not as when off the Cape; there it was cool, with a heavy swell, here there is no motion, the sun vertical, not a breath of air, the heat excessive. At length a breeze sprang up, and we began to move: one day during the calm we made seven knots in the twenty-four hours, and those all the wrong way!

“Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, nor breath nor motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.”

Our voyage advanced very slowly, and the supply of fresh water becoming scanty, we were all put on short allowance; any thing but agreeable under so hot a sun. Captain Kay determined to make the land, and water the ship, and made signals to our companion, the ‘Winchelsea,’ to that effect.

Oct. 30th.—To our great delight we arrived at, and anchored off, Carnicobar, one of the Nicobar Islands, lat. 9° 10′ N., long. 92° 56′ E. Boats were immediately sent on shore to a small village, where the landing was good, and two springs of delicious water were found for the supply of the ship.

CHAPTER II.
CARNICOBAR.

“A HANDSOME SISTER, WITH A MAT FOR A PETTICOAT[11].”

1822, October.—Appearance and Attire of the Islanders—Canoes—Visit to their Village—Ornaments of the Natives—Departure from the Island—The Andamans—Anchorage at Saugor—The Hoogly—Arrival in Calcutta.

The island where we landed was covered to the edge of the sand of the shore with beautiful trees; scarcely an uncovered or open spot was to be seen. Off the ship the village appeared to consist of six or eight enormous bee-hives, erected on poles and surrounded by high trees; among these, the cocoa-nut, to an English eye, was the most remarkable.

CAR NICOBAR.

On Stone by Major Parlby. From an original drawing by Col.ˡ J. Luard.

The ship was soon surrounded by canoes filled with natives; two came on board. The ladies hastened on deck, but quickly scudded away, not a little startled at beholding men like Adam when he tasted the forbidden fruit: they knew not they were naked, and they were not ashamed. I returned to my cabin. The stem of the vessel was soon encircled by canoes filled with limes, citrons, oranges, cocoa-nuts, plantains, yams, eggs, chickens, little pigs, and various kinds of fruit. The sight of these temptations soon overcame my horror at the want of drapery of the islanders, and I stood at the port bargaining for what I wished to obtain until the floor was covered. Our traffic was thus conducted—I held up an empty jam-pot, and received in return a basket full of citrons; for two empty phials, a couple of fowls; another couple of fowls were given in exchange for an empty tin case that held portable soup; the price of a little pig was sixpence, or an old razor: they were eager at first for knives, but very capricious in their bargains: the privates of the Lancers had glutted the market. On my holding up a clasp-knife, the savage shook his head. I cut off the brass rings from the window-curtains,—great was the clamour and eagerness to possess them. On giving a handful to one of the men, he counted them carefully, and then fitted them on his fingers. The people selected those they approved, returned the remainder, and gave me fruit in profusion. Even curtain-rings soon lost their charm—my eye fell on a basket of shells, the owner refused by signs all my offers—he wanted some novelty: at length an irresistible temptation was found—an officer of the Lancers cut off three of the gay buttons from his jacket, and offered them to the savage, who handed up the shells.

“Figurez-vous,” said the Lancer, “the Carnicobarbarian love of that fellow, matted with straw and leaves from the waist to the knee, decked with three Lancer buttons suspended round her neck by a cocoa-nut fibre, and enraptured with the novelty and beauty of the tout ensemble!!”

The dress, or rather the undress of the men was very simple; a handkerchief tied round the waist and passed between the limbs so as to leave the end hanging like a tail: some wore a stripe of plantain-leaf bound fillet-like round their heads; the necks of the chiefs were encircled either with silver wire in many rings, or a necklace of cowries.

One of the canoes which came from a distant part of the island was the most beautiful and picturesque boat I ever saw; it contained twenty-one men, was paddled with amazing swiftness, and gaily decorated. Of the canoes, some were so narrow that they had bamboo outriggers to prevent their upsetting. The natives appeared an honest, inoffensive race, and were much pleased with the strangers. After dinner it was proposed to go on shore in the cool of the evening: the unmarried ladies remained on board. I could not resist a run on a savage island, and longed to see the women, and know how they were treated. Really the dark colour of the people serves very well as dress, if you are not determined to be critical. On landing, I was surrounded by women chattering and staring; one pulled my bonnet, but above all things they were charmed with my black silk apron; they greatly admired, and took it in their hands. They spoke a few words of English, and shook hands with me, saying, “How do? how do?” and when they wished to purchase my apron they seized it rather roughly, saying, “You buy? you buy?” meaning, Will you sell it? they were kind after the mode Nicobar.

The natives are of low stature, their faces ugly, but good-humoured; they are beautifully formed, reminding one of ancient statues; their carriage is perfectly erect. A piece of cloth is tied round the waists of the women, which reaches to the knee. Some women were hideous: of one the head was entirely shaved, excepting where a black lock was left over either ear, of which the lobes were depressed, stretched out, and cut into long slips, so that they might be ornamented with bits of coloured wood that were inserted. She had the elephantiasis, and her limbs were swollen to the size of her waist. They are very idle; in fact, there appears no necessity for exertion—fruits of all sorts grow wild, pigs are plentiful, and poultry abundant. Tobacco was much esteemed. Silver they prized very much, and called coin of all sorts and sizes dollars—a sixpence or a half-crown were dollars. The only apparent use they have for silver is to beat it out into thick wire, which they form into spiral rings by twisting it several times round the finger. Rings are worn on the first and also on the middle joint of every finger, and on the thumb also. Bracelets formed after the same fashion wind from the wrist half-way up the arms. Rings ornament all their toes, and they wear half-a-dozen anklets. The same silver wire adorns the necks of the more opulent of the men also. They are copper-coloured, with straight black hair; their bodies shine from being rubbed with cocoa-nut oil, which smells very disagreeably. Their huts are particularly well built. Fancy a great bee-hive beautifully and most carefully thatched, twelve feet in diameter, raised on poles about five feet from the ground; to the first story you ascend by a removeable ladder of bamboo; the floor is of bamboo, and springs under you in walking; the side opposite the entrance is smoked by a fire: a ladder leads to the attic, where another elastic floor completes the habitation. They sit or lie on the ground. Making baskets appears to be their only manufacture.

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 bee-hive 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 cocoa-nuts: the poultry was excellent.

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

Little did I think it would ever have been my fate to visit such an uncivilized 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, Oct. 30th, and quitted the island, Nov. 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.

Nov. 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.

7th.—We fell in with the Pilot Schooner, off the Sandheads, the pilot came on board, bringing Indian newspapers and fresh news.

10th.—We anchored at Saugor.—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, &c.; the next tide took us to Budge-Budge by night, and the following morning we landed at Chandpaul Ghaut, 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 dinghees 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.”

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.

CHAPTER III.
LIFE IN INDIA.

“I HAVE SEEN BENGAL: THERE THE TEETH ARE RED AND THE MOUTH IS BLACK[12].”

1822, November.—Calcutta—First Impressions—Style of Indian Houses—Furniture—Mats—Arabs—Departure of the Marquis of Hastings—Fogs—Christmas-Day—Indian Servants—The Sircar—Thieves—The Hot Winds—Pankhās—Fire-flies—North-Westers—The Foliage—Musquitoes—Elephantiasis—Insects—The Chŭrŭk Pooja—Religious Mendicants.

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 325 rupees a month for ours, the larger ones are from 4 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 Mirzapore 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.