Among the sights of Calcutta may be reckoned the garden of the chief judge, Mr. Lawrence Peel, which is equally interesting to the botanist and the amateur, and which, in rare flowers, plants, and trees, is much richer than the Botanical Garden itself. The noble park, laid out with consummate skill, the luxuriant lawns, interspersed and bordered with flowers and plants, the crystal ponds, the shady alleys, with their bosquets and gigantic trees, all combine to form a perfect paradise, in the midst of which stands the palace of the fortunate owner.
Opposite this park, in the large village of Alifaughur, is situated a modest little house, which is the birthplace of much that is good. It contains a small surgery, and is inhabited by a native who has studied medicine. Here the natives may obtain both advice and medicine for nothing. This kind and benevolent arrangement is due to Lady Julia Cameron, wife of the law member of the Supreme Council of India, Charles Henry Cameron.
I had the pleasure of making this lady’s acquaintance, and found her to be, in every respect, an ornament to her sex. Wherever there is any good to be done, she is sure to take the lead. In the years 1846-7, she set on foot subscriptions for the starving Irish, writing to the most distant provinces and calling upon every Englishman to contribute his mite. In this manner she collected the large sum of 80,000 rupees (£8,000.)
Lady Peel has distinguished herself also in the field of science, and Bürger’s “Leonore” has been beautifully translated by her into English. She is also a kind mother and affectionate wife, and lives only for her family, caring little for the world. Many call her an original; would that we had a few more such originals!
I had brought no letters of recommendation to this amiable woman, but she happened to hear of my travels and paid me a visit. In fact, the hospitality I met with here was really astonishing. I was cordially welcomed in the very first circles, and every one did all in his power to be of use to me. I could not help thinking of Count Rehberg, the Austrian minister at Rio Janeiro, who thought he had conferred a great mark of distinction by inviting me once to his villa; and, to purchase this honour, I had either to walk an hour in the burning heat or to pay six milreis (13s.) for a carriage. In Calcutta, a carriage was always sent for me. I could relate a great many more anecdotes of the worthy count, who made me feel how much I was to blame for not descending from a rich and aristocratic family. I experienced different treatment from the member of the Supreme Council, Charles Henry Cameron, and from the chief judge, Mr. Peel. These gentlemen respected me for myself alone without troubling their heads about my ancestors.
During my stay in Calcutta, I was invited to a large party in honour of Mr. Peel’s birthday; but I refused the invitation, as I had no suitable dress. My excuse, however, was not allowed, and I accompanied Lady Cameron, in a simple coloured muslin dress, to a party where all the other ladies were dressed in silk and satin and covered with lace and jewellery; yet no one was ashamed of me, but conversed freely with me, and showed me every possible attention.
A very interesting promenade for a stranger is that to the Strand, or “Maytown,” as it is likewise called. It is skirted on one side by the banks of the Hoogly, and on the other by beautiful meadows, beyond which is the noble Chaudrini Road, consisting of rows of noble palaces, and reckoned the finest quarter of Calcutta. Besides this, there is a fine view of the governor’s palace, the cathedral, Ochterlony’s monument, the magnificent reservoirs, Fort William, a fine prutagon with extensive outworks, and many other remarkable objects.
Every evening, before sunset, all the fashionable world of Calcutta streams hitherward. The purse-proud European, the stuck-up Baboo or Nabob, the deposed Rajah, are to be beheld driving in splendid European carriages, followed by a multitude of servants, in Oriental costume, some standing behind their carriages, and some running before it. The Rajahs and Nabobs are generally dressed in silk robes embroidered with gold, over which are thrown the most costly Indian shawls. Ladies and gentlemen mounted upon English blood horses gallop along the meadows, while crowds of natives are to be seen laughing and joking on their way home, after the conclusion of their day’s work. Nor is the scene on the Hoogly less animated; first-class East Indiamen are lying at anchor, unloading or being cleaned out, while numberless small craft pass continually to and fro.
I had been told that the population here suffered very much from elephantiasis, and that numbers of poor wretches with horribly swollen feet were to be seen at almost every turn. But this is not true. I did not meet with as many cases of the kind during five weeks here, as I did in one day in Rio Janeiro.
On one occasion I paid a visit to a rich Baboo. The property of the family, consisting of three brothers, was reckoned at £150,000. The master of the house received me at the door, and accompanied me to the reception-room. He was clad in a large dress of white muslin, over which was wound a magnificent Indian shawl, which extended from the hips to the feet, and made up for the transparency of the muslin. One end of the shawl was thrown over his shoulder in the most picturesque manner.