CALCUTTA

Calcutta

At the end of the China expedition, William Gill was in Calcutta, tidying up loose ends. We join him on 28th November 1877. He has just squared accounts with Mesny and arranged to send his servants to Shanghai:

I then went to the museum where I called on Anderson (who went to Bhamo and Teng Gueh with Sladen). [John Anderson was a distinguished Scottish naturalist who became curator of the Indian Museum. Edward Sladen was commissioner of Arakan in southern Burma.] The museum is not yet open but he took me all over it. It will be a magnificent place. The building itself is very fine and quite dwarfs Government House. To a spectator looking across the Maiden, Government House is not high enough to produce an effect, from a distance the trees of the Eden Gardens (not so called after the earliest known park) hiding more than half of it. There is a dome on the top of Government House but a very mean and unornamented one and looking from the south, the dome of the Post Office appears behind and above it, and such as it is, dwarfs it altogether. I then went to Pierson’s house [Major William Henry Pierson of the Bengal Engineers had been involved in building the Indo-European telegraph.] and Chin Tai, Chung Lih and Chu Ming finally all being collected, I sent Chu Ming to see them safely aboard, as I could not go myself, for Chung Lih did not appear till 6 o’clock when it was too late.

William Gill spent the evening at the Artillery Club:

Had a very pleasant evening at the Artillery, me sitting between General Thuillier of the Trig (as all its members speak of the Great Trigonometrical Survey) and Colonel Campbell. [Henry Edward Landor Thuillier, surveyor–general of India.] Thuillier of course knew all my old friends of the Trig and was somewhat astonished to learn that I had at one time belonged to that distinguished body. I had plenty of interesting conversation – geographical, social and familiar. Colonel Campbell is great on social-ology (if that is the word, which I don’t think it is) and is always poking about in out of the way places noticing the manners, customs and social life of the people. And as this is also a particular weakness of my own, we hit it off very well. There was a very nice little dinner and the band of a neighbouring regiment playing for its officers was just loud enough to be heard by us without interrupting conversation.

The following morning, before breakfast, Gill borrowed a horse:

Went out for a ride on a horse of Pierson’s. Met the secretary of the Bank of Bengal and rode with him a little, then went down by the Garden Reach road.

It was here that in the olden days all the merchant princes used to live in splendid houses. These all still remain but more or less in a state of ruin, standing each of them in beautiful park-like gardens with walls or railings above a ha-ha, the revetments of which are now tumbling down in many places. But times have changed. There are no longer merchant princes to keep open house for all comers. Simla has not only sprung into existence but become a necessity. People have now two houses to keep up, instead of one, expenses are doubled and incomes less. So now people live on ‘flats’ – Fancy Flats in Calcutta!!! And as for merchants, the only rich ones are now Germans. Another cause has contributed to put Garden Reach out of fashion. When the King of Oude was pensioned off, they bought houses for him here; and his swarm of followers, building hives for themselves all over the place, drove all the Europeans away. Or would have done so if it had not already been deserted. I had a pleasant ride getting beyond the houses amongst cocoa nut palms and shady trees and returning by another road reached home by 9 o’clock in time to wash and dress for breakfast.

Having had breakfast, he engaged a new servant:

After this Palmer sent me over a man who he thought would do me for a servant and I engaged him as usual, giving about twice the amount of wages that I ought. But a good servant will not come with anyone’s service for a week or two only without high pay, and if he turns out a good man, I should not grudge him the few rupees. He calls himself Allahabad Khan and told me that he came down to enter the service of the Viceroy. But hearing that I was in want of the best servant in Calcutta, and feeling that he and he alone could fulfil my requirements, he gave up the Viceroy for me. This was very considerate of him and afterwards I really hardly liked to ask him to pull off my boots. My servant for the present he has become and I dismissed Chu Ming who properly belongs to the hotel and from having been there so much is not quite the sort of man I wanted.

‘The Khan’ speaks no English whatever and I think my courage in engaging him is worthy of all admiration for I never knew much Hindustani and I have forgotten a good deal of the little I ever knew.(Question for grammarians and mathematicians – can a man forget a good deal of a little?) I pick up some, however, every day and the wonderful difference between Chinese and Hindustani forces itself more than ever upon me. I never could pick up anything of Chinese. With Hindustani I can hardly help pick up scraps, even without trying to. Speaking Hindustani, if I say something unintelligible, a Hindoo tries to understand and on repetition will probably succeed. A foreigner speaking Chinese really well often finds a Chinaman simply refuses to understand him and certainly if a Chinaman does not understand at once, he never makes the slightest effort and often will not even listen to the remark repeated.

In the afternoon, Gill went over to the Bengal United Services Club:

I have been made an honorary member of the Bengal United Services Club and went over there in the afternoon to read books and papers. Also dined there with Le Mesurier. The party was Lindsay R.E., Dunlin R.E. and a barrister named Millar.

The club is a great convenience to officers passing through or people staying only a few weeks, for at it a man can have a comfortable bedroom and live at a very moderate cost. It is not in my opinion so good a club as the Byculla Club at Bombay. There was rather a bustle and scramble at dinner. Everyone seemed in a hurry to eat as much as possible in the shortest time and my recollections of the Byculla are of profound peace and gentleness all through the meal. The management here cannot be very good. Someone called for whiskey and there was none in the house, though there was real turtle and punch for dinner. The cigars were indifferent, not to say bad, like they are at most clubs in England. We went into the billiard room after dinner, where the flies were annoying. But not so bad as they were a few nights ago, when they had to brush the table between each stroke, and then the pockets got so full during one game that there was no room for the balls. The Viceroy arrived today and everyone went to meet him. There were upwards of 30 R.E. officers in Calcutta and as usual no two were dressed alike.

Gill was clearly impressed by some new army headgear:

I admire the new Indian R.E. helmet immensely. It has a brass spike and a white silk puggerie [turban]. It is thoroughly useful and soldier-like dress and very handsome withal. I have worn one nearly all the way from Cheng Tu to Bhamo, in rain, wind and sun. I have brushed through thorns and branches in it, knocked it against low doorways or beams and overhanging branches of trees and I have never, either walking or riding, had any fault to find with it. And thanks, eternal thanks, to the Prince of Wales. I understand that at last the army at home are provided with a reasonable head-dress and those vile abominations Cocked Hats, Busbies and Shakos are done away. We may hope that the British soldier will some day be reasonably dressed.

At the club, he was told an amusing tale of a missionary:

A regiment leaving a certain station was disposing of its mess tents valued at 1,600 rupees the two. A missionary came to see them, admired them and said they were just the things for the mission work. The regiment appears to have been very generous, for the president of the mess told the missionary that, as a contribution to mission work, they would sell the tents for 600. The missionary was much pleased and the president then said he must go and see the colonel and get his consent. The missionary trudged off. The colonel was kind, and said that he would make the price 500, instead of 600. The man of the Bible, more pleased than ever, thanked the colonel and said he would at once go and raise subscriptions. Oh, said the colonel, so you have not got the money? Then put my name down for 50 rupees. The missionary thought never that the regimental well was not dry, yet visited each officer, and not only did he put their names down but he put their silver rupees in his pocket. These tents, be it remembered, were the absolute property of the officers. He succeeded in raising the 500 rupees, the greater part of it from the regiment, and then wrote to say he did not want the tents. With this letter he did not return the subscriptions. This is really a true story and requires no salt whatever.

Clearly William Gill was bored with talk of Simla:

Everyone in Calcutta has just come back from Simla and they talked Simla all the evening. The skating rink, the balls, the parties, the houses. I must say this, however, that there was no scandal talked nor did I hear a single lady mentioned by name. Pierson says this is because the scandals are so well known that there is no pleasure in talking about them. I was rather tired of Simla before the evening was finished.

Next day Gill had his first haircut for 14 months:

Had a ride from 7 to 9 and then called in the barber and was operated on for the first time since leaving Peking in September last year. Spent the greater part of the day at the club reading and writing letters, as the English mail went out tonight. Dined with Colonel Campbell at the other club. Met Dr Anderson and a civilian named Mangles. Had a very pleasant evening and Simla with its society was not once mentioned.

On the 1st December William Gill decided to catch up with the news:

This was what people call a cold weather morning and when I got up, I found it quite chilly. The weather hitherto since I have been here has been pretty much like very hot London weather but with a more powerful sun. I have never here found it inconvenient, though the Calcutta-ites themselves have been grumbling dreadfully, declaring they could do nothing and wondering when the cold weather would come.

Today it really was cool all day and Pierson’s house, being exposed to the breeze, is really very pleasant. So much so that I contrive to get out of the wind. I don’t think the thermometer in the house ever gets above 82 or 83.

Went out for a ride in the morning from 7 to 9 by Belvedere where the Lieutenant Governor lives. I think his house and grounds are much better located and certainly much prettier than Government House.

After breakfast I received a budget of letters and newspapers bearing date August 8th to September 6th (letters numbers 10-11-12-13-14). I have never received the intermediate ones. I think the last I had was dated London April.

After breakfast I wrote my name in the Viceroy’s book and called on General Crommelin, the senior R.E. here. I then went to the club and read. Dined at the club, met more R.E.’s, was at the same table with Pierson, Skipwith and Riddell. Went to the opera with Pierson afterwards - Ruy Blas [a work by Victor Hugo set in 17th century Spain]. Again, did not stop till the end but came home and went to bed.

Soon after this, William Gill returned home to England.