Like Another Helen

by Sydney C. Grier

From Colvin Fraser, Esq., to Mrs Hurstwood.

The English House, Muxidavad, Feb. ye 28th.

Being now arrived at Muxidavad, madam, I take up my pen to fulfil my promise to keep Mrs Hurstwood informed of the progress made towards the release of her incomparable friend. But first, lest I would raise too high the anticipations of my kind correspondent, let me say that the three or four days I have spent in this place have brought nothing but disappointment, both private and public. We can’t obtain any news of Miss Freyne, and our natural enemies, the French, have sought the aid of the inconstant barbarian, to whom Mess. Watson and Clive taught so lately a needed lesson, to defeat our plans for their overthrow. Mrs Hurstwood won’t have forgot that, either in my last letter or in that before it, I writ that Colonel Clive had demanded permission of the Soubah to attack Chandernagore, but met with a temporising answer, which neither accorded the desired liberty nor refused it. The Colonel, taking advantage of this ambiguous quality of the Nabob’s reply, continued his preparations for the enterprise with all the speed and secrecy imaginable, considering it of prime importance to break the power of the French in Bengal before they could seize the moment of his returning to Madrass to attack our weakened factory, and ten days ago he crossed the river with his army.

But now begun a din indeed! The French writ urgent letters to the Nabob, which reached him at Augadeep,[01] a village some forty miles south of this place, imploring his protection against the wicked and rapacious British, and so it was, that all his favourites concurred with their entreaty. Monickchund feared that in the event of our succeeding with the French we would fall to remembering that he had possessed himself of a huge portion of the spoils of Calcutta, and request of him to disgorge it, Coja Wasseed, who manages the French trade, was naturally loath to lose his office, and the Seats, to whom the Sydabad factory is indebted in the extraordinary sum of thirteen laacks, were drove near distracted by the prospect of seeing themselves deprived of the hope of regaining it. Hence, when Mr Watts arrived at Houghley, he learned through Omichund, who travelled with him, from the Phousdar Nuncomar,[02] that the Nabob had sent two of his servants, Seen Bawboo[03] and Montra Mull, to Chandernagore with a present of a laack of rupees, and had ordered the Houghley garrison to render the French every assistance in the event of an attack by us. This last peril was averted by the address of Omichund, who was able to bring Nuncomar over to our side by a bribe of 12,000 rupees, but on reaching Augadeep, Mr Watts discovered that to attack the French at present would only serve to precipitate a conflict with the whole army of the Soubah. The weak prince received our agent with the most violent demonstrations of displeasure, nor was it until Omichund had sworn on the foot of a Bramin, as the most solemn oath he could take, that the British had no ill designs, that Surajah Dowlah would consent to await even an explication from Colonel Clive. Urged by Mr Watts’ recommendations to prudence, the Colonel withdrew his troops, writing to the Nabob a friendly letter to assure him of our regard for his wishes. Thus the affair came to an end for the present, but with what humiliation for us and triumph for our enemies Mrs Hurstwood won’t need me to tell her.

As to Mr Watts, who shares to the full the Colonel’s suspicions of the French, I can’t but think his disappointment would have killed him, had he not found so much to be done in repairing our damaged influence at the Court. When I reached Muxidavad, he was still smarting under his defeat, and while receiving Dr Dacre in the most handsome manner, showed signs of desiring to avenge a portion of his wrongs on me. He could not well refuse me a lodging, since I carried the Admiral’s despatches, but all his words and looks exhibited the most undisguised hostility, in so much that he failed even to invite me to his table on the evening of our arrival. My revered Mrs Hurstwood will understand with what apprehension I viewed this enmity on the part of the person to whom I looked most for help in discovering my beloved, and with what resentment mingled with resolution I obeyed a summons the next morning to Mr Watts’ closet.

“Be seated, sir,” says the good gentleman, throwing a fiery glance at me. “Pray, sir, what are you doing in Muxidavad?”

“I am the bearer of Mr Watson’s despatches, sir.”

“Sir, I know that, but it don’t give you any more right here.”

“I protest, sir, you’re using very strange language towards me.”

“The Admiral is behaving monstrous strangely towards me, sir. I put my neck in a noose by coming here, endeavouring to serve the Company by my long experience of these Indians and my knowledge of their politics and customs, and he must needs spy upon me by means of an insolent Scotch——”