# Letters from India Volume I/To a Friend 7

Diamond Harbour, March 4, 1836.
We have just sent off thirty letters by the ‘Zenobia’, which is passing us,and amongst them there is an immense parcel for you—sixteen pages at least; but there is an opportunity of sending a letter overland this afternoon, and, as we have made such a long passage, you will be glad to hear of our arrival by the earliest way.
We anchored off Saugur two days ago, having been seventy-two days out of sight of land, a circumstance that has happened to but few sailors in the ship. But our voyage was rather calm and uneventful, but we are all quite well, and for the rest I refer you to my large packet. As I sealed that two days ago, I have the delight of your first long letter since. I never shall forget the delight, the absolute ecstasy, of the arrival of what they in their lingo call the dawk boat, and when ten fat letters came out of the parcel for me. I locked my cabin door, flumped myself down on the bed, and absolutely wallowed in my letters like a pig. You cannot write at too great length, ​it is such a delight. I got into one of those good laughs we used to have together, till we cried together, at ——’s ‘Simple Epitaph’ over her hen; but it is no use commenting on letters that will have been written eight months by the time you get this, only go on writing in the same way, and I shall make mine a daily journal now we have got out of the monotony of a ship life. Yesterday we got up to Diamond Harbour from Saugur, but I must take up my life where my long letter left off.
Besides our English letters, George was met by a very civil letter from Sir C. Metcalfe, and I had a very nice friendly one from Mrs. Robertson (John Elliot’s daughter), who says I was very kind to her in playing at ‘cat’s cradle’ with her at Minto (virtue always meets its reward), and so I shall find one friend at Calcutta. There is something pleasant in finding anybody who is disposed to be kind in a land of strangers, and for the future I shall play at ‘cat’s cradle’ with all the little girls I meet.
We had a great deal of telegraphic communication all day with Calcutta. Found we could not arrive till very late last night if we went on, and we must then have gone in a ​steamer, and the ‘Jupiter’ people had so set their hearts on taking us right up that we agreed not to desert the ship. Last night another steamer came down to help us, bringing the ‘Soonamookie’ (I have not an idea how it is spelt), George’s own yacht, manned by Hindoos in such lovely dresses, and bringing also Captain Byrne and Captain Taylor, one of Sir Charles’s aides-de-camp, and the military secretary. They gave us all the programme of to-day’s landing, and George has made Captain Byrne (who was at the head of Lord W. Bentinck’s establishment), one of his aides-de- camp; so that he will be our companion, our friend, our confidant, for the next five years.
George is very nervous this morning, and indeed we all wish it well over. The troops are all to be out, and we are to be met on the landing-place by the whole establishment, and it is so hot for a calm demeanour and so difficult to be smart. George and William will be in full dress, and I hope, after the first moment, Fanny and I shall be bundled off into one of the carriages. George is to walk through the line of the troops. Sir C. Metcalfe gives us a great dinner at Government House, and leaves it to us in the evening.
​I have just been in George’s room, assisting him to make speeches to Mr. Byron and some of the officers; and we have been giving presents to Captain Grey’s servant, who is a jewel of a man, and to the quarter-masters, coxswains, &c. I shall always have a great regard for the ‘Jupiters’ in general, they have been so very kind to us. I think I shall leave a note of thanks behind me.
George had one long letter overland, of as late a date as the 1st of December, giving us heads of news—Lord Salisbury’s death, Lord Milton’s, &c.; and there was a line from Lord Stanley, by which it is obvious that nothing has happened to anybody we care about up to December, so we shall receive the next letters without any nervousness.
Oh dear! how I do live at home: but I must go and dress now. We are very near Calcutta. God bless you, my dear ——! I have been so happy since we had those letters. If this comes about the same time as the ‘Zenobia’ you will be sick of my writing.
Your own most affectionate,
E. E.