Letters from India Volume II/From the Hon F H Eden to a Friend 5
My dearest ,—We have not got a bit of a letter, but all your gowns. Lovely articles! and how good of you to send them, dear! and yet what a shame to send such a number! and then again how very useful they will be going up the country (we set off in four days)! and to think of you sending not only a gauze gown, but a satin slip as well!—things not to be had here now. Such profusion on your part; that blue plaid silk! Ain’t I going to make it up directly? and won't I astonish the King of Lucknow with it? Poor things! we only extracted them from the ship three days ago. Just gave them time to see what a damp furnace Calcutta is, and then put them into camel trunks, to show the species of exercise we take; and eventually they will enhance the appearance of the yellow and elegant female to whom you sent them.
We are decidedly very yellow, but, as it is the prevailing human-creature colour of the country, it would be unpopular to be anything else.
A healthy English person in a hard frost would decidedly look upon us all as half-witted. I heard George say yesterday, when he was asked the name of some individual, ‘I know it very well and have got it at the bottom of my mind; I could tell you by a great effort of memory, but if you don’t very much care I had rather not make it.’ And that is just how we all feel now and then; if there is a glimmering of an amusing idea about one’s brain, it is far too much trouble to bring it into speaking shape; and, in fact, it is quite clear to me that there is as great a level of intellect here as of country, and no person can be much cleverer than another; also that when anyone says, ‘How stupid the society is here’ they mean nothing personal to the individuals who compose it, but that such is the effect of the unfortunate situation in which they are all placed.
This being our last week here, we received last Thursday two hundred morning visitors in two hours. This Thursday we shall receive at least three hundred more, besides going to the play for the good of the house (the roof of which will not support the weight of punkahs; so I am sure it is not for the good of us) and attending the marriage of a daughter of ‘a member in Council;’ taking a sentimental leave of two old aides-de-camp and expecting an interesting meeting with two new ones; hearing the details of the packing of seventy-two camel-trunks; wearing and tearing the powers of thought by settling what is to be sent up the country, what to England, and what to be kept here; making B think it right and reasonable that Chance, and Gazelle, and my tame lemur should go in the boat with us, when we have not room for half the servants he meant should sleep on the deck.
That angel Gazelle has certainly contrived to grow up into that species of deer generally denominated ‘hog;’ he is therefore not eminently graceful, but his manners and disposition are quite beyond praise. The lemur is very tame and frightens me with its black human hands. bought it for me the other day, cheerfully observing, ‘It’s just the sort of animal you will like in your tent; you may let it loose there, and it will scramble like a cat and a monkey together.’ Such a combination of horrors! And it expects to be petted and played with all day long; if it is neglected, it begins to moan. I flatter myself that I have secured a valuable and trustworthy attendant for him and Gazelle. Ariff the other day brought him to make his salaam, and, after giving him a long exhortation in Hindustanee, translated it for my benefit in this manner: ‘I tell him, Ladyship, that he come every morning for two hours and make acquaintance with Gazelle, then he go to Barrackpore and make acquaintance with monkey, and that he must always try to make himself pleasant to both beasts, and has no other duty.’ Such a new view of ‘the whole duty of man’!
You have been very ill-used, though you don’t know it. I was going to make you a handsome present of a small carved ivory elephant, and our little French servant, who clears away all my pretty things over my head, before I’m ready and resigned to part with them, yesterday morning, before I was up, put it at the bottom of a large box, soldered it up, sewed wax cloths over it; then, when I came out, pointed with savage delight to my empty tables, and said he fancied ‘ces petites bêtes horribles’ (meaning cockroaches) were tricked, as if they would have eaten up ivory! I have a beautiful large elephant in that same box, but I have not the heart to make him undo it again.
My dearest, I must finish, this being Wednesday; we go on Saturday, and you don’t know what a deal there is to be done.