There remained now nothing to keep him longer at Calcutta; a body of troops was on its way to Hongkong, to take the place of those that had been diverted to India, and the end of September was the time at which he had arranged to meet Baron Gros in the China seas. On the 3rd of September, therefore, he turned his face once more eastward, to resume the proper duties of his mission.
[Sidenote: Fever.]
Steamer 'Ava'—September 10th.—I have had a very bad time of it since I finished my last letter on my way down the Hooghly. Probably it may have been something of the Calcutta fever brought with me…. But on the second night after our departure, it came on to blow hard towards morning. I was in my cot on the windward side. First, I got rather a chill, and then the ports were shut, leaving me very hot. I remained all day in a state of feverish lethargy, unable to rise, and constantly falling off into dreamy dozes; kaleidoscopes, with the ugliest sides of everything perpetually twirling before my eyes. I panted so for air that they opened my ports towards evening as an experiment. It turned out better than might have been expected. A sea washed in, and filled my cot half full of water, which decided me on rising. No gentler hint would have mastered my lethargy. After I got on deck, as you may imagine, it was about as difficult, or rather more so, to overcome the vis inertiae which fixed me there. So a bed was made for me under the awning. I remained on deck for four nights; the fourth, in a cot slung up to the boom, and though I slept little, it was cool. Last night I came down to the cabin again. I have taken the turn, and am on the mend, though I do not yet feel the least inclination for food, and my nerves are so shaky that I can hardly write. That little pretty book[7] of Guizot's which you sent me, I have been trying to read, but I find that it is too touching for me, and I have been obliged to lay it aside.
September 11th.—I am now at Singapore again, which is my kind of oasis in this desert of the East; the only place where I have felt well or comfortable, and where there has been a sort of cordiality in the people, which makes one feel somewhat at home. I shall stay here two days, to gain a little strength before plunging again into the sea.
[Sidenote: Perplexities.]
Hong-Kong.—September 20th.—I did not attempt to write on my way from Singapore to this place, because, though we were much favoured by the weather (as this is the worst month in the China seas and the most subject to typhoons), the motion of the screw in the 'Ava' is so bad, that it is almost impossible to write when she is going at full speed. However, I may now tell you that we made out our voyage in six days of beautiful weather, and that I have gone on gradually recovering my health, which I lost between Calcutta and Singapore. I believe I do not look quite as blooming as usual; but it is of no use my claiming sympathy on this score, for, as the Bishop of Labuan appears to have said, I always have a more florid appearance than most people, and never therefore get credit for being ill, however ill I may feel. I found two mails from home…. The Government approves of my having sent my troops to India, and Clarendon's letter seems to imply that they are not quite insensible to the difficulties of my position…. As it is, I now find myself in a very puzzling position. If I go to the North I shall lose prestige, and perhaps also time; it is even possible that I may force the Emperor to declare himself against us, and to direct hostilities against us at the northern ports, where hitherto we have been trading in peace. On the other hand, if I do not go to the North, and make pacific overtures to the Emperor, I shall go dead against my instructions, and against the policy which Palmerston has over and over again told Parliament I am to pursue.
[Sidenote: Hong-kong.]
Hong-Kong.—September 25th.—I used to dislike to begin writing a letter, when I thought I should receive one from my correspondent before it was finished; but I have got over all these scruples now. Our correspondence is kept up in a kind of constant flow, and our letters so cross each other, that we hardly know where one is begun or ended. Therefore, although I sent off one this forenoon, and although I may calculate on hearing from you again before this is despatched, I feel that it is quite natural to take up my pen, and to have some talk with you this evening before I retire to my cot. I have been dining with the Admiral quietly, at 3 P.M., and I went on shore with him afterwards to take a walk. We strolled through the Chinese part of the town, crowded with Chinese all returning from their work, and looking good-humoured as usual. The town is more extensive than I had supposed it to be; but it was close and hot, and I was rather glad when we got into our boat again to pull off to our ship, which is lying about 2- 1/2 miles from the shore. It was calm and cool on the water; and after reaching my ship, I have sat down to my writing desk, having placed one of the ship's attendants (a disbanded sepoy, I believe) at the punkah which has lately been fitted up in my cabin. It is wonderful what a comfort these punkahs are! I was suffocated with heat before my sepoy began to pull, and every now and then I have to halloo to him when he seems disposed to take a nap….
[Sidenote: Caprices of climate.]
October 1st.—What a climate! after raining cats and dogs for forty- eight hours incessantly, it took to blowing at about twelve last night, rain still as heavy as ever. Our captain, who is a man of energy, apprehending that he might run ashore or foul of some ship, got up steam immediately, and set to work to perform the goose step at anchor in the harbour. You may imagine the row,—wind blowing, rain splashing, ropes hauled, spars cracking, everybody hallooing:—'A stroke a-head! ease her! faster! stop her!' and other variations of the same tune. All this immediately over my head! After expending the conventional number of hours in my cot, in the operation of what is facetiously called sleeping, I mounted on deck at about 5 A.M…. I wish I could send you a sketch of that gloomy hill at the foot of which Victoria lies, as it loomed sullenly in the dusky morning, its crest wreathed with clouds, and its cheeks wrinkled by white lines that marked the track of the descending torrents. It was still blowing and raining as hard as ever, but I took my two hours' exercise notwithstanding, clad in Mackintosh. Frederick and Oliphant, who went on shore the day before yesterday to dine with Sir J. Bowring, have not yet returned.