What has knocked him up with George is his treatment of the natives. Nothing will induce him to take the slightest charge of the servants and their families, and he and I came to a grand blow up on the subject yesterday about a boy who had been bit by a mad dog. George wanted to get rid of him on the spot, but I thought it would be supposed he had been sent away on account of Fanny’s protracted illness, which would be ruin to him in his profession, and it must wait. But Macintosh added up the case as it really stands: “The man is a brute to the natives, and I am very glad that I have hated him ever since he entered the house, and we all do the same.”
Yesterday we sent for old Doctor Nicolson, the Sir H. Halford of Calcutta, whom everybody abuses and yet they all send for him, and the other doctors mind every word he says. I have no faith in him myself, except perhaps in these Indian cases, which he has seen enough of the last forty years, and at all events he has put Fanny in better spirits about herself.
Certainly the body is quite as inconsistent as the mind. I remember laughing so the first two years at people going out, even in the cold weather, with shawls on, and thinking it affectation. All the last week I have dined with two shawls on, and George with his great cloth cloak, and both of us declaring the evenings were delicious, only too chilly. I imagine the kitchen at Eastcombe would be an ice-pit in comparison. Last night at cards I asked Captain Macintosh if he had any return of ague, and he said no, but that he and Captain Hollyer were both so dreadfully cold they wanted to have the jalousies shut. The thermometer was at 79, but I was quite as shivery as they were. I hope we shall brace ourselves up on the voyage home, otherwise you will think us very tiresome and fusty.
I still think my new dog a great bore, thank you. I knew you were going to ask, and I do not suppose I am capable of an infidelity to Chance’s memory, for everybody says this is a perfect treasure. I have had the promise of another, more after Chance’s pattern, but it is ill, and as dogs always die in this country as soon as they are ill, it never may reach me. But, in the meanwhile, I am not obliged to attach myself to Juck. Your most affectionate
E. E.
Miss Eden to the Countess of Buckinghamshire.
CALCUTTA,
June 1, 1841.
My dearest Sister, You can hardly have the cruelty to expect a poor creature to write after three weeks of the most desperate weather ever felt in India, and no signs of a change. Even the natives are completely beat by it. The Baboos say they can’t write, and the tailors can’t sew, and I see the man who is pulling the punkah has a large fan in the other hand with which he is fanning himself. Even George owns to falling asleep over his work; and then the evenings are so hot we cannot drive, which is unwholesome for him. Under these circumstances it is rather difficult to write.
Fanny left a letter for you before she went. They have been gone a week to-day, and therefore ought to be at Singapore to-morrow. I heard from her on Wednesday evening when the pilot left them, just gone to sea, and she said she felt better, though the heat had been dreadful in the river, and that it was the quietest ship she had ever been in, and that William [Osborne] was very contented, etc.; and Sir Gordon wrote word she was in excellent spirits. If they find a ship ready to start from Singapore they may be back in less than five weeks, and at all events in six, and I am sure they will have had a blessed miss of any part of this month. I rather hope they will make a week’s more delay, and go and see Penang when they are about it. Everybody says it is so beautiful.
In the meanwhile, I take it we are going to bring her and Sir Gordon and the whole ship’s company into the Supreme Court, I believe, and probably transport them all. The captains of three several ships have all come storming up the river, declaring that Sir Gordon fired upon them because they did not salute his pennant quick enough to please him; and one captain has brought two balls, one of which passed between him and his pilot, and the other went through the cabin full of passengers. As they were arriving from England, not thinking of finding a Commodore, and certainly not expecting to find him on board a steamer tugging another ship, it is rather sharp practice firing at all; but firing loaded guns is quite a new idea. I hope it will not be proved that Fanny has been popping away out of her cabin on these unsuspecting new arrivals. Sir Gordon is always amazingly on the alert about his dignity; and having detained The Queen a day in order that he might attend the birthday ball, went to bed before supper. It was supposed from some jealousy about the Members of Council taking precedence of him.