Memoirs of a griffin : $b Or, A cadet's first year in IndiaBellew, Francis John
General
Memoirs of a griffin : $b Or, A cadet's first year in India
Bellew, Francis John
India -- Description and travel
To cut the matter short, however, I hired Rumjohnny on the strength of
his testimonials; and having now got my baggage all up, moved off with
him and Chattermohun Ghose to the Custom-house. Having arranged matters
there, I proceeded through the thronged streets of Calcutta to a tavern
or punch-house, somewhere in the aristocratic region of Ranamoody Gully;
a sort of place of entertainment which, in those days (though, from
their improved character the case is now, I understand, different), it
was considered quite _infra dig._ in a gentleman to visit. However,
being a griff, I knew nothing of this, and if the case had been
otherwise, I should have been without an alternative. Dirty tablecloths,
well spotted with kail and mustard; prawn curries, capital beef-steaks,
domestics of the cut of Rumjohnny, a rickety, rusty, torn
billiard-table, on which, day and night, the balls were going, lots of
_shippies_, and a dingy bed, were the leading features of this
establishment, not forgetting clouds of voracious and well-fleshed
musquitoes, to which those of Madras were a mere joke.
I shall not inflict on the reader a dry detail of the occurrences of the
next three days; let it suffice to state, that at the end of that
period, having duly reported my arrival, &c., I found myself in
possession of an advance of 150 sicca rupees, sterling money of Bengal,
four bare walls and a puckah floor in the south barracks of Fort
William, and about to fit up the same in the first style of griffinish
fashion, under the able direction of Chattermohun Ghose.
The south barracks is one of several ranges within the Fort, and
allotted principally to the accommodation of unmarried subs. Like the
Burlington Arcade, it has a long passage down the centre, into which the
doors of the several quarters open; but here the resemblance ceases.
Here I had a practical illustration of the ill-working of the social
system, the living in a species of community under the present
discordant and defective state of our feelings and habits. The passage
was sounding and reverberating, and each occupant of a quarter had much
of the benefit of his neighbour’s flute, fiddle, or French horn, whether
“i’ the vein” for harmony or not; shoe brushings, occasional yells of
servants undergoing the discipline of fist or cane, jolly ensigns and
cadets clattering up and down, cracking horsewhips, whistling the
“_Flaxen-headed Cow-boy_” or “_Begone Dull Care_,” the arrival of files
of coolies laden with purchases from the China Bazaar or Tulloch’s
Auction Room, pleasantly varied by interminable wranglings on the part
of master’s sirdar or bursar, touching payments and _dustoorie_, or
custom; payees urging pleas in deprecation of abatement, sirdar
overruling the same—constituted a few of the _désagrémens_ of a
south-barrack life. The optical department was not less varied and
novel; but it could be shut out at pleasure, an advantage not predicable
of the former.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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