Four months after his return to Carwar, Harvey died, leaving his girl-wife a widow. She remained at Carwar, engaged in winding up the trading affairs of her late husband, and asserting her claim to his estate, which had been taken possession of by the Company's officials, according to custom. According to the practice of the day, every merchant and factor had private trading accounts which were mixed up with the Company's accounts, so that on retirement they were not allowed to leave the country till the Company's claims were settled. In case of death, their estates were taken possession of for the same reason. Two months later, Mr. Thomas Chown, the late supercargo of the Godolphin, was sent down to Carwar as a factor, and, a few weeks after his arrival, he married the young widow. Application was now made to the Council at Bombay for the effects of her late husband to be made over to her, and orders were sent to Carwar for the late Mr. Harvey's effects to be sold, and one-third of the estate to be paid to Mrs. Chown, provided Harvey had died intestate. The Carwar factory chief replied that the effects had realized 13,146 rupees 1 fanam and 12 budgerooks; that Harvey had left a will dated the 8th April, 1708, and that therefore nothing had been paid to Mrs. Chown. It was necessary for Chown and his wife to go to Bombay and prosecute their claims in person. The short voyage was destined to be an eventful one.
On the 3rd November (1712), Chown and his wife left Carwar in the Anne ketch, having a cargo of pepper and wax on board, to urge their claim to the late Mr. Harvey's estate. The coast swarmed with pirate craft, among which those of Conajee Angria were the most numerous and the most formidable. It was usual, therefore, for every cargo of any value to be convoyed by an armed vessel. To protect the Anne, Governor Aislabie's armed yacht had been sent down, and a small frigate, the Defiance,[4] was also with them. The day after leaving Carwar they were swooped down upon by four of Angria's ships, and a hot action ensued. The brunt of it fell on the Governor's yacht, which had both masts shot away and was forced to surrender. The ketch tried to escape back to Carwar, but was laid aboard by two grabs, and had to surrender when she had expended most of her ammunition. In the action, Chown had his arm torn off by a cannon-shot, and expired in his wife's arms. So again, in little more than three years from her first marriage, Mrs. Chown was left a widow when she could hardly have been eighteen. The captured vessels and the prisoners were carried off; the crews to Gheriah and the European prisoners to Colaba. To make matters worse for the poor widow, she was expecting the birth of an infant.
Great was the excitement in Bombay when the news of Mrs. Chown's capture arrived. The Governor was away at Surat, and all that could be done was to address Angria; so a letter was written to him 'in English and Gentues,' asking for the captives and all papers to be restored, and some medicine was sent for the wounded. Just at this time also news was received of the Indiaman New George having been taken by the French near Don Mascharenas.[5] Sir John Gayer, who was on board, finished his troubled career in the East by being killed in the action.
After keeping them a month in captivity Angria sent back his prisoners, except the captains ransom. In acknowledgment of kindness shown to the released prisoners by the Seedee, that chief was presented with a pair of Musquetoons, a fowling-piece, and five yards of 'embost' cloth. But in the Governor's absence the Council could do nothing about payment of ransom. When he returned, negotiations went on through the European prisoners in Colaba. Angria being sincerely anxious for peace with the English while he was in arms against his own chief, terms were arranged, and Lieutenant Mackintosh was despatched to Colaba with Rs.30,000 as ransom for the Europeans, and the sealed convention. On the 22nd February (1713), he returned, bringing with him Mrs. Chown and the other captives, the captured goods, and the Anne ketch, but the yacht was too badly damaged to put to sea. According to Downing, Mrs. Chown was in such a state that Mackintosh, 'was obliged to wrap his clothes about her to cover her nakedness.' But her courage had never forsaken her; 'she most courageously withstood all Angria's base usage, and endured his insults beyond expectation.' Shortly afterwards she was delivered of a son. Out of her first husband's estate one thousand rupees were granted her for present necessities, with an allowance of one hundred xeraphims a month.
Very shortly afterwards we find her being married for the third time, to young William Gyfford, with the Governor's approval. According to the statute law of Bombay, no marriage was binding, except it had the Governor's consent; Hamilton tells us how on one occasion a factor, Mr. Solomon Loyd, having married a young lady without the Governor's consent, Sir John Gayer dissolved the marriage, and married the lady again to his own son. In October, two years and a half after her first husband's death, seven thousand four hundred and ninety-two rupees, being one-third of his estate, were paid over to her. It is carefully recorded that neither of her deceased husbands had left wills, though the existence of Harvey's will had been very precisely recorded by the Council, fifteen months before. Young Gyfford, who was then twenty-five, appears to have been a favourite with the Governor, and had lately been given charge of the Bombay Market. Eighteen months after his marriage, we find William Gyfford appointed supercargo of the Catherine, trading to Mocha. The office was a most desirable one for a young factor. It afforded him opportunities for private trade at first hand, instead of through agents, that in the mind of an adventurous young man quite outbalanced the perils of the sea.
In spite of small salaries, a goodly appearance was made by the Company's servants in public. At the public table, where they sat in order of seniority, all dishes, plates, and drinking-cups were of pure silver or fine china. English, Portuguese, and Indian cooks were employed, so that every taste might be suited. Before and after meals silver basins were taken round for each person to wash his hands. Arrack, Shiraz wine, and 'pale punch,' a compound of brandy, rose-water, lime-juice, and sugar, were drunk, and, at times, we hear of Canary wine. In 1717, Boone abolished the public table, and diet money was given in its place. Boone reported to the Directors that, by the change, a saving of nearly Rs.16,000 a year was effected, and the Company's servants better satisfied. On festival days the Governor would invite the whole factory to a picnic in some garden outside the city. On such an occasion, a procession was formed, headed by the Governor and his lady, in palanquins. Two large ensigns were carried before them, followed by a number of led horses in gorgeous trappings of velvet and silver. Following the Governor came the Captain of the Peons on horseback, with forty or fifty armed men on foot. Next followed the members of the Council, the merchants, factors, and writers, in order of seniority, in fine bullock coaches or riding on horses, all maintained at the Company's expense. At the Dewallee festival every servant of the Company, from the Governor to the youngest writer, received a 'peshcush' from the brokers and bunyas, which to the younger men were of much importance; as they depended on these gifts to procure their annual supply of clothes.
Of the country, away from the coast, they were profoundly ignorant. The far-off King of 'Dilly' was little more than a name to them, and they were more concerned in the doings of petty potentates with strange names, such as the Zamorin, the Zammelook, the Kempsant, and the Sow Rajah, who have long disappeared. They talked of the people as Gentoos, Moors, Mallwans, Sanganians, Gennims, Warrels, Coulis, Patanners, etc., and the number of political, racial, religious, and linguistic divisions presented to their view must have been especially puzzling. Owing to the numerous languages necessary to carry on trade on the Malabar coast, they were forced to depend almost entirely on untrustworthy Portuguese interpreters. Their difficulties in this respect are dwelt on by Hamilton—
"One great Misfortune that attends us European Travellers in India is, the Want of Knowledge of their Languages, and they being so numerous, that one intire Century would be too short a Time to learn them all: I could not find one in Ten thousand that could speak intelligible English, tho' along the Sea coast the Portuguese have left a Vestige of their Language, tho' much corrupted, yet it is the Language that most Europeans learn first, to qualify them for a general Converse with one another, as well as with the different Inhabitants of India."
After two years' work, as supercargo, on different ships, Gyfford was sent down to Anjengo as chief of the factory. Anjengo was at that time one of the most important factories on the Malabar coast, though of comparatively recent establishment. It was first frequented by the Portuguese, who, after a time, were ousted by the Dutch. It belonged to the Rani of Attinga, who owned a small principality extending along sixty miles of coast. In 1688,[6] Rani Ashure invited the English to form a trading settlement in her dominions, and two were formed, at Vittoor (Returah) and Villanjuen (Brinjone). But for some reason, she became dissatisfied with the English, and the hostility of the Dutch, in spite of the alliance between the two countries in Europe, caused great trouble. In November, 1693, John Brabourne was sent to Attinga, where, by his successful diplomacy, the sandy spit of Anjengo was granted to the English, as a site for a fort, together with the monopoly of the pepper trade of Attinga. Soon, the Dutch protests and intrigues aroused the Rani's suspicions. She ordered Brabourne to stop his building. Finding him deaf to her orders, she first tried to starve out the English by cutting off supplies, but as the sea was open, the land blockade proved ineffectual. She then sent an armed force against Brabourne, which was speedily put to flight, and terms of peace were arranged. The fort was completed, and a most flourishing trade in pepper and cotton cloth speedily grew up. Anjengo became the first port of call for outward-bound ships. The Anjengo fortification appeared so formidable to the Dutch, that they closed their factories at Cochin, Quilon, and Cannanore.[7] About 1700, Rani Ashure died, and the little principality fell into disorder. It was a tradition that only women should reign, and Ashure's successor was unable to make her authority felt. The Poolas, who governed the four districts into which the principality was divided, intrigued for power against each other, and before long the Rani became a puppet in the hands of Poola Venjamutta. In 1704, a new Governor, Sir Nicholas Waite, was appointed to Bombay. For some reason he left Brabourne without instructions or money for investment.[8] Their small salaries and their private trading seem to have made the Company's servants very independent. We constantly find them throwing up the service and going away, without waiting for permission. Brabourne went off to Madras, after delivering over the fort to Mr. Simon Cowse, who had long resided there, apparently as a private merchant, and who proved, as times went, a good servant to the Company. The Company's service in those days was full of intrigue and personal quarrels. The merchant second in rank at Anjengo, John Kyffin, intrigued against Cowse so successfully, that Cowse was deposed, and Kyffin was made chief of the settlement. He appears to have been a thoroughly unscrupulous man. To enrich himself in his private pepper trade 'he stuck at nothing.' He took part in the local intrigues of Attinga, from which his predecessors had held aloof, played into the hands of Poola Venjamutta, quarrelled with the other local officials, and behaved with great violence whenever there was the slightest hitch in his trade. Kyffin's want of loyalty to the Company was still more clearly shown by his friendly dealings with their rivals, a proceeding that was strictly forbidden.
In June, 1717, Kyffin made known to the Council at Bombay his wish to retire, and William Gyfford was appointed to succeed him as soon as the monsoon would permit. So, in due course of time, Gyfford and his wife went to Anjengo; but, in spite of his resignation, Kyffin stuck to his office, and evidently viewed Gyfford with unfriendly eyes. In the following April, intelligence reached the Council at Bombay that Kyffin had had dealings with the Ostenders, and had been 'very assisting' to them; so, a peremptory order went down from Bombay, dismissing him from the Company's service, if the report of his assisting the Ostenders was true. If the report was not true, no change was to be made. A commission to Gyfford to assume the chiefship was sent at the same time. Interlopers and Ostenders, he was told, were not to receive even provisions or water. So Kyffin departed, and Gyfford reigned at Anjengo in his stead.