A third mischance. On our intended line of road there were no traveller’s bungalows, none but private ones of the Governour’s, into not one of which would she set her foot, and our tents were to go by sea. On this subject she was peremptory, even violent. We were all at a stand still when Major Jameson undertook to manage her. He highly applauded her spirit, approved of her resoloution, and, tho’ under all circumstances he thought the Governour’s offer of his bungalows extremely obliging, he agreed it was impossible that she could accept it. He knew of proper resting places, having lately travelled that road with Sir Thomas Bradford, to whom he was A.D.C., and so, a goodly company, we set out, Major Jameson and the Colonel riding, my father in a palanquin like the ladies. We travelled long and wearily before reaching the first halting place, a comfortable bungalow where all was ready for a late dinner. The two gentlemen had ridden on, to have every thing ready, my mother and I were not long behind them, but we waited near an hour for my father, who, obliging his bearers to follow some directions of his own, had gone a long round. Good claret, well cooled, and some champagne, greatly enlivened the entertainment, my dear Mother hobnobbing with Major Jameson and asking no questions about the bungalow, taking the Governour’s servants and furniture for that belonging to the traveller’s restingplace.
So on we went along the line arriving in Bombay in high good humour. All but poor Colonel Smith, whose horse shying or stumbling at the crossing of the stony bed of a river, got so severe a fall, that he nearly fainted and was laid up for some weeks from a strain, in his friend Doctor Eckford’s house. When he was able, he removed to the Hermitage, Prospect Lodge I mean, to be close to us, the Norrises having returned from the Neilgherries and resumed possession of their pretty home.
1. Daniel O’Connells attempt to persuade Wellington’s government to pass the Catholic Relief Act dominated the politics of this year.
2. Anglo-Indian: relays of men or horses used for transporting mail or passengers.
3. The case was Moroo Ragonath against his uncle Pandoorung Ramchander; a writ was issued in February 1829. It turned on whether the court’s jurisdiction extended outwith the island and factories of Bombay. Sir Charles Chambers was one of the other judges.
4. Attendant, following a horseman on foot.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
1829
Mr Gardiner and Mary had removed to a house in the fort in Rampart row, where they were engaged in packing up their effects, having determined on going home to England. We were all very much distressed at this strange resolution, unwarranted by any real cause; he was in good health, she, never well, no worse in India than at home, and the child was thriving, so that to throw up the service when he was so near the top and return to idle life away on an income very insufficient for her expensive tastes was a piece of folly in the judgement of most others. There were reasons that made Bombay very distasteful to my poor sister, independant of her dislike to the climate, the habits and the society. Mr Gardiner, too, suffered from this mysterious annoyance and I really believe they feared for the safety of the baby—its life had been threatened and with only native servants to watch it, they could never bear it out of their own sight. They fancied, also, that owing to my father’s quarrel with the Governour, they had been overlooked in some late appointments, while this was entirely owing to their having refused Tannah when, as is customary, they were passed over next time. However it all was they had determined on going—or rather, she had, for he had never much voice in any matter. They took their passage in a small Liverpool merchantman, 300 tons, and only waited to see me married. The last week of their stay, having sold all they did not mean to carry home, they removed to the Retreat, which I was very glad of for all their sakes. Our dinner party every evening was very pleasant; some of my cousins, or the Norris’s, my Colonel, Major Jameson. A fine long marriage Settlement was prepared, for days before our marriage, news arrived of my Colonel’s brother’s death which made him possessor of the Irish estate, then valued at about £1200 a year. As we had only been 16 months in India, my father told me he would offer me no additions to a wardrobe he presumed must still be amply provided, he would only buy from Mary her habit, which she had never worn as she never rode and give me that, as my own was growing shabby. My dresses in that climate had grown shabby too—but luckily a box arrived from the London dressmaker on chance, containing 3 very pretty new gowns for me, and a pelisse and hat and feathers for my Mother which she not fancying made over to me. My Colonel too sent me a pretty purse with 30 gold mohurs1 in it and he ordered mourning for me as he wished me on reaching Satara to put it on for his brother.
My father gave me 20 gold mohurs on my Wedding morning, as I had not spent all Uncle Edward had given me on landing, I felt quite rich for the first time in my life; and I never felt poor again, for though circumstances reduced our future income infinitely below our expectations, we so managed our small income that we never yet have owed what we could not pay, nor ever known what it was to be pressed for money.
My Colonel was married in his Staff uniform, which we thought became him better than his Cavalry light gray. There was a large party of relations, a few friends, and the good Bishop, then only Mr Carr, married us. My Mother, who had become reconciled to my choice, outraged all propriety by going with me to the Cathedral; both she and I wished it, as I was to proceed across the bay immediately after the ceremony. So it all took place, how, I know not, for between the awfulness of the step I was taking, the separation from my father and mother, whose stay I had been so long, and the parting for an indefinite time from poor Mary, I was very much bewildered all that morning, and hardly knew what was doing till I found myself in the boat, sailing among the islands, far away from every one but him who was to be in lieu of every one to me for ever more. The first movement that occurred to me was to remember Fatima’s advice—retire to the inner cabin, take off all my finery.
I had been married in white muslin, white satin, lace, pearls, and flowers and put on a cambrick wrapper she had sent on board and had laid ready. The next, to obey my new master’s voice and return to him in the outer cabin, where, on the little table, was laid an excellent luncheon supplied privately by my mother, to which, as I had certainly eaten no breakfast, I, bride as I was, did ample justice. Indeed we both got very sociable over our luxurious repast and quite enjoyed the nice cold claret that accompanied it.
We were going to Satara, neither by sea to Bancoote and so up that end of the Ghauts, nor along the plain we had last travelled, but round by Poonah, ascending the Khandala Pass. On landing, therefore, we jogged on in palanquins to the bungalow at the foot of the first ascent, where I had rested with the Gardiners. There I put on my habit, we mounted our horses, and prepared to scale a wall! I could not believe, looking up, that any one would be mad enough to attempt such a climb on horseback; but not liking to make a fuss on such an occasion I stilled my nerves as best I might, and, shutting my eyes, committed myself to the sure feet of the troop horse that had been brought for me, and the care of his attendant who never left his head. After the first pull the ascent was easier, and, more accustomed to the seat, I ventured to look round on the beautiful scenery. Such wooding! such leaves! such creepers! hanging in festoons from tree to tree, sharp rocks around, deep gullies below, and the steep road mounting ever turning sharp corners as usual to rise to fresh grandeur. Not far from the top the tents were pitched on a cool knoll, servants waiting, dinner ready, all prepared as if in an abiding home, so used are Indians to such movings. Next day we past Lanowlie and went on to a bungalow not half so agreeable as the tents, and next day we arrived at Poonah, the most fashionable Station on our side of India.
We took up our abode in a ruinous kind of place just outside the Station, a sort of old temple or garden house or something, where, however, we had two cool rooms, a bath, and a rather untidy but spacious compound. Here I was very glad to rest a whole, quiet day, for the journey had been fatiguing, but my Colonel set off to visit quantities o
f friends, and, to my dismay, returned towards dusk with Henry Robertson, who was the first who ever called me by my new name, Mrs Smith. He wanted me to dine with him and Jemima, but I begged off, so while we were still at our dessert he and Jemima arrived to join us at tea, and my Cousin Fanny and Mr Ward came soon after, so the next morning I felt confidence enough to face the world, only I was not called on to do it, as we were to continue our homeward journey.
There being a considerable plain to traverse, we applied for an escort, and had a troop of irregular horse sent to us, which materially improved the picturesque of the journey. They were Lancers, and dressed in eastern style, turbans, trowsers, flowing robes, and the smart flag flying. They rode well, and contrasted with the loaded camels, the bullocks, the various attendants, the palanquins, etc.; I thought, when riding by my husband’s side in the cool of the morning, that there had never been off the stage a prettier procession. Our first halt was to breakfast in another temple kind of half ruined building, sheltered by a tope of fine trees, and on the bank of a clear stream. We were to rest here all the hot day, so the camels kneeled down to be lightened of their loads, the bullocks were freed from theirs, the escort dismounted and began to feed and groom their horses beneath the trees, the servants prepared the fires for their meal, and we entered our temple to undress and bathe and put on wrappers, take our breakfast and lie on sofas with our books till time for starting in the afternoon.
The first two hours we used our palanquins, passing at one time through a perfectly deserted town—streets upon streets of really good houses tenantless, not a living creature to be seen in a place of such extent that it took the bearers quite an hour to jog trot thro’ it. On the sun going down we took to our horses, and, after a pleasant ride in the dark, reached the cheerful tent, where lights were gleaming, table laid, dinner ready, and all our furniture and toilettes arranged. On the evening of the next day we rode up to Satara, passed the Resident’s house, the Lines, and, mounting a gentle rise, stopt at the door of our own home—such a pretty one, Often and often the first impression of it recurs to me.
It was the usual Indian bungalow, one long building divided into two rooms, with Verandahs all round subdivided into various apartments. The peculiar feature of this very pretty cottage was that the centre building to the front projected in a bow, giving such a charming air of cheerfulness to our only sitting room, besides very much encreasing its size; the Verandah to one side held the sideboard and other necessaries for the table, the other Verandah acted as entrance hall and anteroom. There were no walls on either side between the house and the Verandah, only pillars to support the roof. The back part of the long building was the bedroom, one side Verandah the Colonel’s dressing room, the other mine, and the one at the end was furnished in boudoir fashion for me. The bathrooms were in a small court adjoining, the servants’ offices at a little distance, and any strangers who came to see us slept in tents. Was there ever any establishment more suited to the country.
We looked over the long Lines of the encampment to a wooded country beyond. To the right were two or three small bungalows at a little distance, the Brigade Major’s, the Doctor’s, and still further off the Residency. To the left a good way on stretched the native town of Satara, with a hill fort towering above it; altogether a very interesting scene, and the climate when I went there in June really quite delightful.
We rode every morning, drove every evening, and when the rains fell it was in gentle showers like summer rains in England. Sentries guarded our door, and there was a guard besides ready to run all messages. We were waked by the reveillée, but I can’t say that we went to sleep at the rappel; our hours in the evening were rather late for an up country station, none of us dining till 5 o’clock. The society consisted of the Resident, Colonel Robertson, with wife and children; his assistant, some young man I don’t remember; the Doctor, Bird, who was absent at that time; the Brigade Major Wilson, who had with him on a visit his sister and her husband, Captain and Mrs Law. All these lived like ourselves in bungalows. The Officers belonging to the Brigade lived in tents in the Lines—Major Capon, Captain and Mrs Soppitt, and two or three married lieutenants, whose wives I did pity, poor young things, when I went to return their calls; girls brought up comfortably in England, one, with an ivory handled pen ornamented with turquoises, and a work box having her initials on the lid in brilliants, using her trunk as a seat, the two chairs being presented to us, and the one camp table holding the fine work box. Some seemed dull enough, others radiantly happy, and they were the wise ones. What use was there in repining. People must creep before they fly, as the Irish say, and if the poor lieutenants lived they would rise to rank and all its comforts.
The Resident had company at dinner daily; he was a hospitable man and never seemed better pleased than at the head of his well filled table. We generally dined with him thrice a week at least; once a week they regularly dined with us, the day after our Official dinner. Every Wednesday so many of the Officers, married and unmarried, dined with us, invited by Major Wilson, who kept a roster, and called the names regularly thro’. I used to have a little battle with him when sometimes I wished to have a favourite over again, or out of turn. The next day the Robertsons and other private friends came to eat up the scraps, an entertainment always very pleasant, and called on our side of India a brass knocker, I am sure I don’t know why. The Soppitts were good kind people. She pretty and always tastefully dressed, none of the rest interesting, only a Mrs Goodenough played on the pianoforte splendidly. The Surgeon, Doctor Young, was a goose, his Wife a most odious woman, Mr Wilson very nice indeed. Except a stray visitor arrived, we had no relief from the small circle. It would have been stupid for a continuance but for the Robertsons, who suited us perfectly.
Once in three weeks our cousin, Mr Ward, drove over in a gig from Poonah to read prayers to us in the Robertsons‘ Dining room. Our life was regular enough. We generally rode early, taking the road from the Lines to the river Mowlie, a couple of miles or so thro’ a grove of fine trees leading to the broad stream that flowed quietly on beneath hanging banks of wood. In the afternoon we drove through the town and round the fort of Satara, down the long, dingy street guarded about the middle by a lion and a tiger, one at each side, chained of course, but in the open air, plunging about, sometimes with a fierce tug at the chain and a low roar that made me tremble till well past them; then by a field where the Rajah’s elephants were picketed out, the tame ones tied by only one leg, a savage one by three. This savage hated women, and when maddened by the sight of one made most violent efforts to release himself, so violent that I could not but fear he might succeed before we got beyond his fury. These pieces of oriental splendour were far from agreeable to me. The hill fort rose high above the town; a half ruined building covered the summit, which the Rajah had lent to the Robertsons, and thither we often repaired with them to drink tea and sleep in the cooler air up at that height, the servants of each family carrying there all requisites necessary for our separate accommodation.
It was seldom so hot as to prevent me employing myself the whole day, and I had plenty to do in my new character of housewife, mending my husband’s large and very ragged wardrobe, that is, making the tailor do it instead of leaning over his work, needle and thread in hands indeed, but half asleep. And in overlooking the doings of the head servant, whom I had soon to make understand that Madame was supreme, that the way to please Madame was ‘to be honest and just in all his dealings’ and that if he did not please Madame, he would go. When he found that this was in earnest, that the Sahib was aware of his crooked ways, and though too indolent to reform them himself, was quite willing to have them reformed, this rogue gave in, so far, as not to exhibit his delinquencies too flagrantly. One of his dodges had been about the poultry. There was a nice poultry yard full of fine fowl, and a regular sum expended weekly in feeding them, and yet we never had any fit for the table, all that we consumed were bought in the bazaar, and were certainly excellent; ours all died of
cramps or cramming, and the eggs were addled or were stolen by vermin; they did not thrive in any way. I said they must—we must have so many eggs and so many fowl per week, and I never would buy one from that hour; nor did 1, nor did we ever want a fair supply of the very same description, too, that we had bought in the bazaar. In truth these had been our own, without a doubt, that we had bought for our Parsee’s behoof twice over. The sheep too; one frequently died, and I announced that the next we lost he should pay for, and such a casualty never occurred again. So, all through, first with one thing, then with another; the quantities said to be given to the kitchen and the stable were more of every sort than it was possible could be consumed. I boldly diminished them by one half, leaving him quite margin enough after all, as I knew from my father’s accounts, which we had regulated by the aid of Mrs Ironside. My Colonel lived for less per month after he married than he had done before, with a larger establishment of course. Batchelours are made to be fleeced very properly. It is the duty of man to have Wife and bairns and if he neglect this law of his kind, let him pay for it, certainly.
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