# Letters from India Volume I/To a Friend 23

Government House, February 11, 1837.
I see in the papers that the ‘Java’ letter-bag closes to-night, and, though I have particularly nothing to say, and never heard of, or saw the ‘Java’ in the river, still if she will close her letter-bag to-night, I suppose she would like to have something to put into it.
This is our levee day, so I shall write till the people begin to pour in, and after that the sooner I am hanged and put out of my pain, or luncheoned and brought to life again, the better. Not that I expect an immense crowd to-day, as it is the season that people are leaving Calcutta instead of coming into it. It is the new arrivals who bother me entirely.
A shocking catastrophe occurred last week at Barrackpore in the canine department, but there are hopes it may not end fatally. A jackal got hold of little Fairy, ——’s pretty little greyhound, and worried her in a horrid manner. —— and all the other gentlemen settle themselves on the lawn at Barrackpore after we go to bed for an hour’s smoking, and ​they generally get into violent political arguments; so on Friday evening they had set in to their smoking—eight of them, and a row of servants round them, and about twenty jackals again beyond them. Fairy had only jumped off ——’s knee one moment before they heard a little shriek, which they took to be a cat screaming; and then they heard another noise, and one of the Hurkarus saw a jackal carrying off Fairy by the throat; so then they all ran and frightened the beast away, and Fairy was picked up with her throat and paws shockingly torn, and apparently so dead that —— told one of the men to bury her. But after the man carried her off she showed signs of life, and her funeral was countermanded, and now she has been nursed and petted for a week, and is getting better. She screamed and howled terribly for two days, and, as dogs that have been bitten by jackals generally go mad, it has been necessary to keep her in a large cage; but I think now she will recover. There are sometimes fifty jackals at a time round the house at Barrackpore, and I assure you, my dear ——, that I have not a moment’s peace about the Prince Royal, only I think his ​natural dignity and his imperious manner may keep the jackals in awe; also his servant is rather grand, particularly in the cold weather, when he wears a nice Indian shawl draped over him in a very becoming way. Dr. Drummond’s little dog has been carried off twice and recovered. We have all sorts of little adventures of that kind. One of the rhinoceroses has taken to stray about the park, and ran after an old neighbour of ours when he was going home one evening, and he is not only very angry (naturally) that the rhinoceros should have run after him, but also that George should have laughed when he made his complaint, and not only that, but everybody else laughs when they think of this great heavy beast scuttling after old Mr. ——. I quite agree with him in thinking it no laughing matter.
February 12.
There! we had a quantity of people, and in the afternoon it was so hot that I could not write; in fact, I went to sleep, and we dined early to go to the play. A Mrs. Chester, from the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, and also from ​Sidney and New South Wales, has deigned to tread the boards of the Chowringhee Theatre, and she wrote me so many moving letters that at last we were obliged to go. She is by way of being a singer, so the first act was a concert and the second a farce. I forget now how common people are treated in England; here they never begin anything till we come, which is extremely gratifying, only it gives us the trouble of going to the very beginning of any sight, however tedious. George and I, with Miss —— and some gentlemen, bravely sacrificed ourselves and sat through it all. Fanny and —— came only to the farce. It was almost amusing from being so bad. It is a great pity they cannot import a tolerable actress, for the gentlemen amateurs are excellent actors.
This morning has been a grand morning. I think of putting up a little monument to the 12th February. I have had thirteen letters this morning for my own private share—thirteen! Do you feel the force of short expressions, ma’am? Never was such times! It is worth all the agony of waiting and dancing about in a fuss, just like a bear learning to dance, which is ​the sort of feeling I have, when letters come I am perfectly miserable when they do, because, though it appears to me that I never think of anything but you all, yet I think still more, and with more bitter regret, just after the letters come in. However, it is no use saying so—only I never will care for anything else; but I suppose we are all placed where we ought to be, and that we must make the best of it, and it is impossible to be thankful enough that all these letters should come, and all bring such good accounts. Also, it is pleasant to be able to tell you how little we all suffer from the climate, detestable as it is. My health is better than it used to be at home. Fanny has not half the pains and aches she had latterly at the Admiralty. George is remarkably well, and it is so like his placid sort of luck; but his room is the only cool room in the house at all times of the year. Nobody knows why. My room and the drawing-room have precisely the same aspect, and are as hot as flames. It is just his cool way of taking things.
Wright is roaring and crying with the pleasure of two letters from her sisters, and —— is in a high state of excitement with a ​letter from Mary the housemaid. Mars has no letter, but is more quietly pleasedwith unpacking four baskets of preserves the Nawaub of Moorshedabad has sent us, particularly some hot chillis preserved in honey—I should think the most horrid mixture under heaven; but he brought them in triumph to my room, as something exquisite. Rosina is quite happy because there were silver cords and tassels round some of the parcels which Mars gave her, and she has put them on as bracelets; they make her brown hands look so pretty. I never saw such small hands and feet as the little Matwês have here.
Once more God bless you all.
Yours most affectionately,
E. E.