‘This is my fourth run,’ he told me as we stood together on the deck. ‘Yes, I’ve done very well out of the East India Company. I’ve had three good runs and amassed a fortune. How much do you think I have made?’
I guessed at five thousand pounds, and he laughed. Then I guessed at ten thousand, and he laughed again.
‘Double it and then some,’ he said. ‘Almost thirty thousand pounds! What with free transport for freight giving a man a chance to make something out of his own bit of cargo, and the salary, it’s a good life, being a captain. A man would have to be a fool to make less than four thousand a trip, and I’m no fool! On my last trip I made twelve! But this will be my last voyage. I could make more money by staying, there’s always work for experienced captains, but I’m tired of making it. I want to spend it. When my ship retires, so do I. It’s a hard passage, and it takes its toll on men and ships alike.’
He told me of his plans to buy a small estate and find a wife, and I wished him well, but being in no mood to hear him talk about the woman he would like to marry, I soon left him and joined my comrades; a varied group, but I liked Green and Wareham, and I thought I would soon be able to call them friends.
The talk was all of Warren Hastings. Being eager to learn as much as I could about the strange new world that was opening up around me, I listened avidly as they spoke of bribery and corruption, and of Hastings’s governorship, and of the difficulties that lay ahead of me. As I imagined the exotic locations awaiting me, England seemed a long way away.
Friday 30 July
The Indies are strange beyond my expectations. The heat is like a furnace. I rise early and work as much as I can before the sun explodes over the horizon. By the afternoon it is too hot to do anything at all, and the evenings are little better.
The men who have been here some time say that I will get used to it, but I wonder if I ever will.
The colours are as fierce as the heat, and the food is fiery, burning my mouth and throat. I ate my first Indian dish today, and I had not taken two mouthfuls when I grabbed at my throat and felt the tears running down my cheeks. The others laughed, and poured me more wine, but drinking it only made my mouth burn the more and the sweat ran down my face in rivers.
I tried to remember the soft summers of England to cool me, but I could not bring them to mind, for it seemed impossible that I had ever been cold.
I ate no more of the strange dish, but I must accustom myself to the food ere long, or else die of starvation.
Monday 9 August
I have seen my first elephant!
I remember hearing about such beasts long ago, but I thought the stories were exaggerated. Having seen one, I think that, if anything, the stories were too tame.
It was the oddest thing I have ever come across. It dwarfed a horse as a horse dwarfs a dog, and it was covered in a thick leathery hide that hung in folds from its legs like a pair of ill-fitting breeches. It had a short tail at the back, and at the front it had a head of such monstrous appearance that it seemed impossible such a thing could exist. Large ears, eyes too small, and huge tusks were the least of it, for in between them was the strangest thing of alclass="underline" a nose, but what a nose! It had the length and appearance of a snake, and it swayed from side to side as the creature walked, snuffling along the ground like a blind thing looking for food. Then, finding something, the trunk lifted like a misshapen hand and dropped the morsel into the creature’s mouth.
I stood still to watch it. As I did so, it found another use for its appendage and, lifting it up like a ceremonial trumpet, it let out a great bellow.
‘It sounds like a cow with a cold,’ said Green.
‘Though a good deal louder,’ said Wareham.
‘Quite a sight, is it not?’ said Green, as the creature walked past.
‘I have never seen such a monstrous thing in my life. Those tusks, that nose — ’
‘Almost as large as Ullswater’s proboscis!’ said Wareham, to much laughter.
Ullswater took the raillery in good part, saying, ‘The elephant has the advantage of me, for I have not learnt how to forage with mine.’
‘Yet,’ said Wareham.
Ullswater laughed with the rest of us, but added, ‘You may laugh, but when rations are short and I turn up delicacies, then I will be the one doing the laughing!’
Thursday 2 September
I am becoming used to my new country, with its elephants and bullocks, its spicy food and its scents of jasmine and musk. I am becoming adept at giving orders and having them carried out. I can fire a musket, and I believe the men respect me; those who are still on their feet, for the life is cruel and many of those who arrive from England do not survive. Sickness, the climate, accident and injury carry off more than half of them.
Friday 10 September
Wareham wanted to buy a necklace for his sister and he invited me to go to the bazaar with him. We were soon wandering between the stalls, surrounded by the din of moneychangers arguing with their customers, the sight of bright fabrics and the smell of pungent spices. The goldsmiths and jewellers were busy, and Wareham stopped to buy his sister a gold chain. I watched the jugglers as he completed his purchase and then we returned to camp, where I found a letter waiting for me.
I felt a chill as the air of England seemed to blow over me, for the handwriting was my sister’s. Knowing that whatever news the letter contained would already be a few months old, I opened it and scanned the pages quickly, learning that my father was dead.
I folded the letter and stared in front of me, unseeing. If only Eliza had been strong for another few months, my father’s death would have removed the barrier between us. We could have been married. Only a few months! The shock of it turned me to ice.
‘Not bad news I hope?’ asked Wareham.
I roused myself.
‘My father is dead.’
‘I am sorry,’ he said.
I thought of my father as he had been when my mother was alive, and I remembered him smiling. And then I thought of him as I had last seen him, showing no remorse at the fact that he had forced Eliza to marry my brother, and I crumpled the letter in my hands.
Now he was dead and buried, and my brother was the new head of the family, and the owner of the estate.
And suddenly everything I had worked so hard to run away from caught up with me and I could no longer deny my memories of England. I recalled it in every detaiclass="underline" the soft landscape, overshadowed by mist; the variety of greens, from the verdant emerald of the lawns to the lime-green of the ferns and the dark sage of moss and late summer leaves; the clear water, running through streams and basking in lakes; the sun rising, mild and clement, in the morning. And Eliza would be there now, cutting roses in the garden and wandering across the meadows, her hat swinging by a ribbon from her hand. I prayed my brother treated her well, and that she was happy. With kindness and diversion I hoped she would be, if not happy, at least not unhappy, and it gave me some comfort to think of her at Delaford, where she was meant to be.
I went outside and was immediately scorched by the sun, so different from the mild friend of England. The buzz of the mosquitoes irritated my ears, and I slapped at my neck in anger as they bit into me. The exotic colours dazzled my eyes, and I thought how far we had come in such a short time, Eliza and I, for if not for her marriage I would still be in Oxford, with its mellow stone and its rustling river, and she would be there with me.
Monday 13 September