Chapter XXI: Showing How Calcutta Was Avenged (2)

“And that signifies that you’ll see your wife despoiled for the sake of the saucy creature there. Would that I had married a person with a spark of courage or manly sentiment in him! Well, sir,” turning to Mr Fraser, “I perceive you’ll have reason to bless the Captain’s easy temper, but I wish you joy of what you may get. You’ve found your lady obliging enough when you was all she had to depend upon for entertainment, and she owed her precious life to you from day to day, but wait and see how she’ll use you in Calcutta, when she has plenty of money and trains of admirers, and her dear Mrs Hurstwood to support her in all her whims. I fancy the spouse of the lovely Sylvia will find himself less important with his lady than he’d desire.”

Sure some malignant spirit must have prompted Mrs Bentinck thus to foster the misgiving that I had discerned in Mr Fraser’s mind already that day, but he answered her coolly enough--

“Since any kindness Mrs Fraser may please to show me is beyond my deserts, madam, I’ll trust to be always grateful for it.”

Disappointed of the effect she had hoped to produce, the lady left us with a disdainful air to join with the rest of the company, in order to receive whom Charlotte had been compelled to depart, hugely to her annoyance, and Captain Bentinck following her after a few civil words, I found myself for a moment alone, so to speak, with Mr Fraser. I could not resolve to lose this chance.

“Oh, dear sir,” I said, very earnestly, “have I deserved this lack of confidence at your hands? Can you think so meanly of the creature you have so infinitely obliged as to imagine that the possession of any advantages would alter her carriage towards you? At least do me the favour to test my abiding gratitude, and if you find it wanting, recall me to a sense of my duty. I’ll assure you it shan’t be necessary to upbraid me twice.”

“Why, what a bear I must be,” cried Mr Fraser, “to have drawn this affecting appeal from my beloved girl! Indeed, my dearest life, if I looked sour on parting from you this morning, ’twas but the thought of a whole day spent without you, or if I answered that saucy lady less warmly than I felt, ’twas because I feared to give her cause to cry out on me as extravagant. That’s my wretched pride again, you’ll say. Well, so it is, and I’m more ashamed of it than ever in my life before. Won’t my charmer extend me her pardon?”

“So long as I know I have your confidence, dear sir----”

“So long as my Sylvia pleases herself, let her know that she can’t disoblige her Fraser. His confidence she must always possess.”

I was made happy by hearing this, but none the less was I thankful not to have delayed making my appeal, for, knowing as I do my dear Mr Fraser’s cast of disposition, I tremble at the prospect of the least interruption of the happy understanding between us. You’ll own, Amelia, that I have some experience of the gloomy pride that possesses him when he imagines himself wronged, and to give him cause to display it would break my heart.

“Come, come,” cried Mrs Hurstwood, coming up to us just as Mr Fraser had kissed my hand, “I can’t suffer these public endearments now that you’re returned to polite life. You must learn to carry yourselves towards each other with the indifference of persons of fashion. Besides, I want my Sylvia here, to present an old acquaintance to her. I’ll find a consoler for Mr Fraser in a moment.”

She carried me into the next room in a prodigious hurry, and bade me seat myself upon an ebony couch, then brought in no less a person than Admiral Watson, who walks now always with the aid of a stick, and bears traces in his countenance of the distemper from which he has suffered since almost his first arrival in Bengall.

“Now here, dear sir,” says Charlotte, “is the beloved friend of whom I spoke to you. Pray did I exaggerate her charms in describing ’em?”

“Even Mrs Hurstwood can’t perform the impossible,” said the Admiral, bowing. “Her portrait I must pronounce to have fallen far short of the reality.”

If I was puzzled by this introduction, and by the look my Charlotte cast at me as she departed, as though recommending me to do my best to gain Mr Watson’s favour, I was worse perplexed by the good gentleman’s conversation, for I soon learned that he imagined me to be a stranger to India, only newly landed from Britain.

“I fear Admiral Watson’s memory en’t so strong as his kindness,” I said at last, after acknowledging several genteel compliments, “for I had the honour to meet him at Madrass near two years ago.”

“Oh, madam,” and the Admiral laughed, “’tis strong enough to recollect that Mrs Hurstwood has been known to play tricks upon her acquaintances, and I fear her lovely friend en’t ashamed to copy her.”

“Sure her trick was to make you believe I was newly from home, sir.”

“She assured me positively that you was but just arrived in Calcutta, madam. But stay--pray, madam, may I be favoured with your name?”

“My name is Fraser, sir,” and I permitted Mr Watson to catch a glimpse of the wedding-ring upon my finger. Figure to yourself my alarm, Amelia, when he burst into a great shout of laughter.

“What! the lady over whom Mr Fraser and I have been quarrelling all day?” he cried.

“Oh, dear sir, have I brought Mr Fraser into fresh difficulties?”

“Why, madam, I thought he had taken undue advantage of my easy temper when he confessed he had married the lady I permitted him only to rescue. But I protest I’d have done the same myself on the like provocation.”

“But you won’t make him suffer, sir, for his generosity to a poor desolate creature that had no friend but him?”

“He has plenty of consolation, madam, if I did. But figure to yourself how the affair appears to his comrades. Lieutenant Fraser, admitted through the Admiral’s softness to an indulgence he don’t in the least deserve, outstays his leave without permission, and contrives not only to take part in Colonel Clive’s battle at Placis but to marry a handsome wife. It’s clear he must be punished.”

“Oh, pray, dear sir, pray----”

“Now pray, madam, don’t cry. I was about to say that for the sake of others I must leave Mr Fraser in his old station, not allowing him to profit by the accidents that have of late advanced so many of our officers to a higher rank, but if he’ll carry himself in that situation so as to merit my favour (and with such a lady to inspire him I don’t doubt but he will), why, he shall have it!”

Sure I can’t tell, my dear girl, whether at the moment I was more grateful for my Charlotte’s trick to gain the Admiral’s kindness for Mr Fraser, or more ashamed of my jealous misinterpreting of the natural melancholy my spouse had shown on his return from waiting on Mr Watson, seeing his prospects all in danger.

Calcutta, _August ye_ 19_th._

How little I imagined, when I closed my last letter to my Amelia, that the truly great and benevolent man whose affable kindness it recorded was shortly to quit the world in which he had obliged so many and displeased none! Three days ago Admiral Watson, the most condescending of patrons, the most skilful of commanders, breathed his last in the hospital here. The disorder from which he suffered had increased continually upon him; but the mournful termination might have been avoided had it not been for a sudden attack of what is called in Bengall a _pucker_[21.09] fever (which is to say a severe and violent one), of which he expired in four days. There are no words to express the grief and consternation experienced by all in this place, as well Indians as Europeans, on hearing of the shocking event. This excellent person had so endeared himself to all classes by the justness of his sentiments, the politeness of his manners, and the nobility of his disposition, that there’s not a creature but feels the loss of a friend. No such funeral procession has ever been seen in Calcutta as that which on Wednesday attended to the burying-ground the remains of one so universally venerated. Not only the officers and seamen of the ships, but the army, the black and Armenian inhabitants, and even the French prisoners, desired to testify their regret for his decease; while Colonel Clive, the only individual that could at all compete with Mr Watson in the public estimation, was present with the rest, and dropped an unfeigned tear. A fortnight back all the talk of the place was of the claim put in by the Admiral for a share in the Muxadavad treasure proportionate to the post he held, and how Colonel Clive, in proposing to deduct for his benefit a certain portion of each person’s share, and actually paying over his own part of the sum, had disobliged the Presidency and the army officers; but now there can be few but feel that the Colonel alone has nothing to regret in considering his dealings with the amiable and virtuous person whom we have lost.

Must I confess to my dear friend that in my heart there has been, united with that sense of public loss which could not but make itself felt, a particular grief that the only patron to whom Mr Fraser might reasonably look for advancement in his profession could now oblige him no further? That this unworthy strain has mingled with my sorrow I can’t deny; but my Amelia may judge of the shame with which I contemplated the sentiment when I learned that even on his death-bed Mr Watson remained mindful of the interests of those who had served under him. Yesterday Admiral Pococke, who succeeds the lamented gentleman in the command of his Majesty’s naval forces in these waters, having summoned to his presence those officers for whom Mr Watson had been chiefly concerned, promised them his countenance and favour in the future, and made them the most obliging offers of advancement under his own eye. Until that moment, as he confessed to me, Mr Fraser had entertained serious thoughts of quitting the navy and entreating the favour of a commission in the Artillery from Colonel Clive; but finding himself confronted with the same agreeable prospects as before, he is now joyfully resolved to remain in the calling of his choice.

You’ll be surprised to hear that we are still residing with Mr and Mrs Hurstwood; but to tell truth we have found it impossible to quit their dwelling. As soon as Mr Fraser proposed seeking a house for ourselves, our friends assured us that theirs was far too large for their wants, and that they would regard it as a favour if we relieved them of a part of it. Now this liberal offer was so great a convenience, considering the huge rents asked here, that we could scarce consent to accept of it; but when my Charlotte painted a moving picture of the solitude I should experience when Mr Fraser was absent on his voyages, and the consolation she might afford me if she needed only to step across the varanda to pay me a visit, my spouse went over to her side at once. Then she sought to compliment me with visions of the assistance I might furnish to her in her household œconomy when she felt vapourish (for indeed she is not strong), and declared at last that if I removed to another part of Calcutta she would compel Mr Hurstwood to remove also and hire the house next to ours, so that I also was brought to consent to remain. But my dear girl must not suppose that we are so poor as to find it difficult to live according to our station. Under the influence of good Mr Holwell and Mr Hurstwood, Captain Bentinck has behaved like a person of honour and probity respecting my dear papa’s estate, although his good designs were sorely hindered by his lady; and Captain Colquhoun’s gift, of which I can scarce bear to think even now, ensures us a genteel maintenance. With this and Mr Fraser’s pay, I’ll assure you we find no cause to envy even the wealthiest persons here.

_P.S._--Miss Dorman (who is now Miss Dorman no longer, but Mrs Weeks) is come in, and finding me writing, desires her compliments to you, saying that she regards you as a friend of her own. Her humble servant, who was fighting in the Carnatic, came hither with the Madrass detachment, and married her at Fulta, “just in time,” says she, “for I had near determined on resigning my pretensions to him and youth together, calling myself Mrs before others tired of calling me Miss,[21.10] and settling down to cards and scandal as the only old maid in Calcutta, with a cat, an ape, and a poll-parrot to keep me company.” But I know my Amelia will rejoice with me that this amiable creature en’t compelled to so melancholy a fate.

Calcutta, _Sept. ye_ 18_th._

Has my Amelia ever pleased herself with speculations upon the sentiments of mankind after the Deluge? I hope she won’t accuse me of irreverence, but I have been wondering whether, when the patriarch and his descendants returned to the scenes with which they had been formerly acquainted, they were at any time wont to spare a compassionate thought for those who had once trod with them the turf of the umbrageous grove, or listened to the murmuring of the brook. Sure they could not have succeeded in forgetting them as completely as though they had never been, and yet our people in Calcutta have contrived to attain to an eminence as uncommon, as inhuman almost, as this. And such a malevolent oblivion is the more astonishing, that those who perished in the miseries of last year were not the worst, but the best, of our community. My papa, Captain Colquhoun, good Padra Bellamy and his son, Mr Eyre, Ensign Piccard, and all the rest--the first two commemorated indeed by the elegant tablets which the pious care of Mr Fraser has had erected in the burying-ground in their honour, but the names of the others allowed to perish unless the excellent Mr Holwell (like your Sylvia a sharer and a survivor of the horrors of those days) should carry out his projected design of raising a suitable monument to their common memory.[21.11] Is there no pathetic[21.12] in this strange neglect? ’Tis little wonder, you’ll say, that Mr Drake and the Council should desire to shroud in darkness such recollections as could only blacken their own behaviour, but sure it had been but a delicate action on Colonel Clive’s part to put them to shame by taking the matter in hand. The Colonel don’t think so, however, and Calcutta goes on its way forgetful of the persons in whom it should take most pride. Indeed, my dear, the state of this place now is far worse than when our good Captain Colquhoun used to anticipate a judgment upon it, owing, I fear, to the prodigious sums of money poured into the town as the result of the victory of Placis. True, there was no disputes about the division of the treasure, which was distributed by a committee of the most respectable inhabitants, whose award was received with the greatest complaisance imaginable, but the common men of the army and navy spend their portion of the spoils in the most extravagant folly and wickedness conceivable, and even the gentlemen of the services seem to have lost their senses by reason of this sudden accession of wealth. As I rode through the city this afternoon in my palanqueen, I saw on all sides of me the signs of the most ostentatious luxury, of the most prodigal expenditure of the treasure so unhappily obtained.

Sure I must be vapourish, you’ll say, to give vent to these gloomy reflections. Why, so they are gloomy, my dear, but my situation is a melancholy one. Yesterday there arrived in the river the Revenge sloop, which had made an extraordinary quick voyage from Madrass, bringing news of the arrival of a great French fleet on the Choromandel Coast. The season of the year forbids Mr Pococke to take the sea against ’em, but he has thought it well to carry his ships to Ballisore Road, there to keep watch in case of an attempted attack on Bengall, and the vessels dropped down the river to-day. Many friends and relations of the officers were permitted to share the passage as far as Culpee, and Captain Latham complimented me with an invitation on board the Tyger, so that I was able to enjoy Mr Fraser’s company for a little longer. But this was not wholly charming, for I could not but see that the dear gentleman was so placed that persons much inferior to him in attainments, and even in age, were entitled to give him their orders. I could not help deploring this to him before we parted, and lamenting that his determined search for me had involved him in such a loss of sea-time and of opportunities for distinction as had brought him into so painful a situation, but he checked me immediately.

“Pray, my dearest girl,” he said, “have done once and for all with this talk of obligation between you and me. Sure I had willingly undertook what I did simply to know that my Sylvia was restored to freedom and safety; but when to that is added the honour of possessing her, I am overpaid a thousand times. The favour is all on my side, and if you love me, you’ll permit me to rejoice in that thought.”

To so affecting an appeal ’twas not possible to return a refusal, although it deprives me of that exercise which is the most charming of all to a generous mind--the consideration of the obligations one owes to one’s friends. But my dear Mr Fraser is gone, and what little his Sylvia can do to please him shall be done--although not altogether as my Charlotte desired me just now. Having made me drink a dish of tea on my return from the Gott, and sought in vain to engage me in a cheerful conversation, “Oh, there!” she cried, “go and write to your Fraser. I see you’ll take no pleasure in anything until that’s done.” But I hope I en’t so extravagant as Mrs Hurstwood feigns to believe. I will begin a letter to Mr Fraser to-morrow; at present I’ll finish that to my Amelia. Do you know, my dear, I fancy this will be the last of my huge pacquets? Letters you’ll receive from me in the future, I hope, but scarcely those minute histories which it has so often solaced me to write. These, if I am able to write them at all, must go to my spouse, and my dear girl won’t grudge it, knowing that in heart her friend is, as ever, her

Sylvia Fraser.