# Letters from India Volume I/To a Friend 8

Diamond Harbour, Friday, March 4.
My birthday, which nobody knows or cares about except myself, who would rather be a year younger each time than a year older; and I cannot help thinking that would be a worthy reward for each year passed in India. The steamer began to tow us up the river at nine. Finished our letters and sent them to the ‘Zenobia,’ which met us in the river, homeward bound. Between twelve and one, when we were going eleven knots an hour and growing fidgetty for fear we should arrive too soon, we came to a brig at anchor. The steamer stood a little to the left, to leave room; was caught in an eddy, and drove the ‘Jupiter’ and the other steamer aground. The ‘Soonamookie’ (George’s yacht), which was towed astern, of course ran against the ‘Jupiter’ and broke some of its railings— in short, it was quite a collision; and after two hours’ delay and work, we were obliged to take to the steamer and give up the ‘Jupiter.’ It was the greatest mortification to all parties: Captain Grey had set his heart on landing us at Calcutta; the officers and midshipmen had ​volunteered to man the barge and row us ashore. We had wished them to see the fun of the landing, so it was a great disappointment, besides the annoyance of arriving too late at Calcutta. Whatever may be the discomforts of a long sea-voyage, the extreme kindness with which we have been treated on board is the strong point in my recollection, and I shall always think of the ‘Jupiter’ with gratitude.
We had a tiresome voyage up the river against the tide, and feeling all the time that somebody would be waiting dinner at Government House. No arm-chairs or sofas, the heat very great, and the steamer very noisy. Arrived at Calcutta at ten; landed, and were met by Mr. Prinsep, Captain Higginson, &c., with the carriages, a guard of honour, &c.; they drove us to. Government House. Went through the great hall, where we left George. Sir H. Fane and Captain Higginson showed us to our own drawing-room, which is very English-looking, only beyond the common size of rooms. We had some dinner, and the mosquitoes took their first meal of us—handsome to begin with—and then we went up to bed. George was sworn in, ten minutes after he arrived.
Sunday, March 6.
Went to church at ten. When George goes out with us we have five guards to ride by the carriage, and two when we go out alone. There are three velvet chairs in the middle of the aisle in the cathedral, with an open railing round them and a space railed off behind for the aides-de-camp. All the pews are made with open railings. Some of the ladies come without bonnets, and they all fan themselves with large feather fans unceasingly, otherwise it was much like an English church. Great part of the service very well chanted. Quiet afternoon. George drove out with us.
The officers of the ‘Jupiter’ dined with us again; a horrid account of the mosquitoes on board, though they can hardly be worse than on shore. Chance has taken to his own servant and will not come near me, which I call ungrateful. We have all our separate establishments of servants now. My particular attendant, who never loses sight of me, is an astonishingly agreeable kitmagar, whose name I have asked so often that I am ashamed to ask it again, and cannot possibly remember it; but he speaks English, which none of the others do. He and four ​others glide behind me whenever I move from one room to another; besides these, there are two bearers with a sedan at the bottom of the stairs, in case I am too idle to walk, but I have not trusted my precious person to their care yet.
There is a sentry at my dressing-room door, who presents arms when I go to fetch my pocket-handkerchief, or find my keys. There is a tailor, with a magnificent long beard, mending up some of my old habit-shirts before they go to the wash, putting strings to my petticoats, &c.; and there is an ayah to assist Wright, and a very old woman, called a metrannee, who is the lowest, servant of all, a sort of under-housemaid. Of all these, only one can speak English. George never stirs without a tail of fifteen joints after him. William has reduced his to three, but leaves a large supply at home; and Fanny has at present three outriders, and expects more; but it is rather amusing when by any accident we all meet, all with our tails on. By an unheard-of piece of tyranny, George is the only individual who is allowed to have his mosquitoes driven away by two men, who stand behind him with long fans of feathers. We are not allowed this luxury in his presence; and of ​course have, besides our own mosquitoes, his refuse troop to feed. Nobody can guess what those animals are till they have lived amongst them. Many people have been laid up for many weeks by their bites on their first arrival.
Monday, March 7.
We had a great many visitors immediately after breakfast, both male and female. The aides-de-camp hand in the ladies and give them chairs, and if there are more in the room at once than we can conveniently attend to, they stay and talk to them; if not, they wait outside and hand the ladies out again. The visits are not long; but I hope they will not all compare notes as to what we have said. I know some of my topics served many times over. Visits are all over at 12.30 a.m., on account of the heat. We luncheon at 2 p.m. (the people will call it tiffin), and then all go off to our own rooms, take off our gowns, and set the punkahs going, take up a book, and I for one shall generally go to sleep, judging from the experience of the last three days. At 5.30 p.m. everybody goes out. We drove to-day to Garden Reach to visit Sir C. Metcalfe, and found George and Captain ​Byrne with him. Captain Grey and —— went with us. The house and garden are very much like any of the Fulham villas, only the rooms are much larger; but the lawn is quite as green, and rivers are rivers everywhere.
Tuesday, March 8.
George held his first levee—about 700 people; we had fewer visitors in consequence, and a quieter day. Drove to the Chowringee, which is the Regent’s Park of Calcutta, to leave a card with the Fanes, who give us a ball to-night; dressed after dinner. All our things were unpacked to-day, and except one or two gauze ribbons, everything is as fresh as possible. After fancying we had bought too many gowns in England, we find we have not enough, it is such constant dressing. Coloured muslins for the morning we are particularly deficient in, and, after all the boasted supply of French goods, it appears that after the rainy season in particular, and occasionally at other times, there is not a yard of silk or ribbon to be had. At all times they say that rupees are charged for shillings (which is 2s. 3d. for twelve pence), and I should think it is true. I gave ​four rupees for a little handbell, which would not have cost 1s. 6d. in any London toyshop. I am shy of saying ‘Qui hi’ when I want a servant, so I have got this little dear bell. We went to the ball at 10 p.m.—an immense procession! Ten men with lights ran before George’s carriage, besides the usual day accompaniment of servants, guards, &c. The ball was much like a London ball in look, only the uniforms make it look more dressed, and there is more space for dancing. They dance away as if they were not in a furnace, and instead of resting between the dances they walk round the room in pairs. There were few young ladies, but some young brides, and they all seem to dance on to a most respectable old age. Several mothers of grown-up daughters never missed a quadrille or waltz; they were all very well dressed, and seemed to take pains to be so. Came home at 12 p.m. Our new aide-de-camp, Captain ——, mentioned that he was not going home with us, and I believe he slunk back, after putting us in our carriage, to have a good dance. It cannot be such a bad climate, or the old gentlemen who were figuring away at this ball would not be so active.
Wednesday, March 9.
We had rather more than sixty visitors between 10 and 12 a.m to-day—most of them ladies; the day was intensely hot, and the fatigue of so many fresh people is very great. Drove to Garden Reach to visit Lady Ryan, the wife of the chief judge. She is a nice person and fond of her garden, and has contrived to rear some violets and sweetbriar; therefore has probably many other good qualities. We dined at Sir H. Bains’, to meet what they call the ‘heads of departments and their wives.’ The mosquitoes were worse there than at Government House. When we came home, George, it appeared, had made the same resolution that I had, which is never to dine out again. There is so much to do at home that no constitution could bear engagements abroad too.