CHAPTER XV.
WHICH RECOUNTS THE TRIALS OF A DEVOUT LOVER.
Letters from Colvin Fraser, Esq., to Mrs Hurstwood.
H.M.S. Tyger, off Fulta, Dec. ye 20th.
Madam,—I take this chance to acquaint you that the fleet is now at length arrived in the Houghley River, after a voyage so tempestuous that it might well be imagined the devil and all his angels were gathered to oppose our progress, distrusting our object. Being thwarted in our course from the very day we sailed from Madrass by the prevailing north-eastern munsoon and the currents setting from the north, our only means of fetching Bengal was to steer across the bay and back again, thus reaching our journey’s end crab-fashion. In this tedious style, then, and afflicted by continual rough weather, we pursued our voyage, passing over first to the coasts of Tannasery[01] and Arracan, then tacking to the westward until we were in the latitude of the sands at the eastern mouth of the Ganges, next making our way with the help of the tides to Ballisore Roads (losing in this manœuvre the Cumberland and Salisbury, which took the ground off Cape Palmeiras), and finally reaching the mouth of the Houghley, where we were welcomed in the name of those refuging at Fulta by Mr Watts, late of Cossimbuzar, and Mr Becher. There we might still be at this moment, owing to the danger apprehended by the pilots in navigating the great ships over the shoals called the Braces before the spring tides came, but this difficulty was surmounted with great spirit by Captain Speke, who had been several times before in the river, and taking the Kent across in safety, the other vessels followed without mishap. So protracted has been our struggle with the opposing forces of nature, that all on board the vessels were placed on strict rations both of meat and drink, and the supply of rice failing entirely, a considerable number of Colonel Clive’s Tellinghy[02] soldiers actually succumbed to starvation, being forbid by the rules of their religion to touch the salted meat served out to them.
The Kent and Tyger arrived off this place five days ago, but ’twas not until to-day that we were gladdened by the sight of our consorts, with the exception of the Cumberland (which, though she and her sister in misfortune have been got off, can’t continue her voyage, and carries back to Vizagapatnam with her 250 of the Colonel’s white troops) and the Marlborough, which has on board the greater part of our stores and nearly all our field artillery, but parted company with us, being a slow sailer, in a storm off the Negrai’s. Besides the two great ships and the Salisbury, therefore, Admiral Watson has under his command only his two frigates and the fireship, with the two Indiamen used for the transport of the troops, while Colonel Clive’s army amounts to no more than 900 Europeans and something over 1200 Seapoys. Major Kilpatrick’s force of 230 Europeans, which, as you know, madam, was despatched from Madrass to the help of Calcutta as soon as the news was received of the fall of Cossimbuzar, has suffered so grievously since its arrival in August, from the necessity of taking up its quarters in swampy ground, because there was no room on board the ships, that a full four-fifths of the men are dead, and of the rest not more than ten are fit for duty. This heavy loss is partly compensated by the enrolment of seventy volunteers from among the Calcutta refugees, the most active of the gentlemen belonging to the factory; but, better than this, we possess in the justice of our cause and the reputation of our two commanders a guarantee of success and of the favour of Heaven upon our enterprise. Already the Admiral has sent letters, couched in terms of great severity, to Monickchund, the Soubah’s governor of Calcutta, demanding redress for the wrongs done to the Company and its servants, and nothing is heard on every side but conjectures as to the answer that will be received.
Nothing but conjectures is heard in the fleet and army, I should say, for (will it surprise you, madam, knowing the gentlemen?) all the members of the Bengal Council that are escaped have no time to think of anything but their own punctilio, without it be the property they lost in the fall of the place and the means of recovering it. Mrs Hurstwood mayn’t have heard that Mr Drake, finding the sour looks he met with and the remarks passed upon his conduct in deserting the Fort vastly galling to his high spirit, has posted in every public place in Fulta an advertisement desiring that it may be pointed out to him where he failed in his duty, and what more he could have done that he did not do. This was wrote after a laudable prudence had caused him, with his friends, to assume three months ago the style of Governor and Council of Bulrumgurry (that poor mean place being the only spot of ground left to us in Bengal), in the fear of offending the Nabob by aspiring to be still in possession of Calcutta. True, our colours are now hoisted just outside the Dutch bounds at Fulta, but Mrs Hurstwood will already be certain that so resolved a step was not taken until the arrival of the fleet. ’Tis some consolation that Mr President’s fantastic manifesto was replied to by a young gentleman named Dash, whom I have met at Calcutta, and who acquainted the world in writing that while he durst not risk his place in the Service by accusing the Governor without a mandate from the Company, he was prepared to justify all that had been said if he were called upon. There’s one matter, however, in which Mr Dash attacks the Presidency, where I can’t follow him, and this is the advancing Mr Labaume to the rank of captain in the Company’s army. Who should better deserve the elevation than a foreigner who fought on our side with so much spirit and devotion, and was only saved from the dreadful fate of the rest of the defenders by being carried to the ships mortally wounded, as was thought? And yet Mr Dash, who don’t think it necessary to declare the time or manner of his own leaving the Fort, finds fault with Captain Labaume’s advancement because he is a Papist! He believes, questionless, that all Papists should be warned to fight on t’other side.
Mr Dash’s most fervent supporter in this matter is Mrs Freyne, who champions with uncommon zeal the cause of my old adversary, Mr Bentinck. This gentleman’s exploit, in quitting the Fort full twelve hours before even the President and the chief military officers, has not yet been properly recognised by any step in rank, and ’tis whispered that the Council stand too much in awe of Colonel Clive to bestow this merited promotion. In this case, the lady will find it necessary to turn the artillery of her charms on the Colonel, since (so says wicked rumour) though not altogether inconsolable on good Mr Freyne’s account, she en’t minded to bestow herself on a gentleman that han’t got his company. I went some days back to pay my respects to Mrs Freyne, but the mention of my name sent her into so violent a hysterical fit, as recalling to her all the cruel misfortunes she has suffered, that I thought it better to withdraw. I am not intending any disrespect to the lady, but I can’t be sorry that she and my charmer cherished no extraordinary affection one for the other.
Dec. ye 21st.
The despatch of this pacquet, madam, leaves us still at Fulta, forced to listen to the vapourings of Mr Drake and his fellows, and unable as yet to follow the promptings of our spirits and advance against the Moors, no answer having been received to Mr Watson’s epistles sent to Monickchund. There en’t a man either on board ship or in the ranks but burns to avenge—oh, madam, what have we not to avenge? But why am I running on in this style and delaying to impart the news that has sent me to the writing of this letter as to the hardest task imaginable, since ’tis to quench in Mrs Hurstwood’s bosom the hope which is already extinguished in my own? You guess, madam, questionless, what it is I have to tell, but my coward pen still refuses to set down the frightful truth in such a form that it may reach you. And yet I can’t, I dare not, write on any other topic—how could I, indeed, when my whole heart and soul is filled with this one? Oh, madam, our beloved Miss Freyne is no more! Now I have wrote it, but the sight of the words brings no conviction to my mind. Sure such a blessed creature could not die, knowing that she must leave this world a desolation thenceforth to her adoring friends; the goodness of her heart would alone retain her here, in compassion of their need of her. But no; that bright spirit which was too pure and ethereal for these grosser regions is returned to its native skies, leaving us forlorn. Don’t, madam, account me so churlish as to grudge to you the recollection of the affectionate friendship which was never broken by a quarrel, but figure to yourself the state of mind of the wretch who addresses you, when he remembers that the love which is his boast brought to its dear object nothing but fresh adversities and the increase of her unmerited misfortunes, and that it has now proved itself as powerless to save as it was potent to wound. Indeed, madam, I can’t but admire the extraordinary course of my passion for Miss Freyne, which caused me to injure most deeply the creature I most adored, and which finds her removed from its reach just when there was a hope that I might in some measure redeem my past behaviour. The fault was wholly mine, indeed my bitter fault.
But why do I trouble Mrs Hurstwood with my useless lamentations, instead of presenting her with the melancholy history so far as I am acquainted with it? I was walking, madam, this evening on the esplanade of the Dutch factory here, when there met me Captain Labaume and another gentleman, who both turned aside and saluted me.