The Rape of Venice (32 page)

Every boat that drew alongside holding a passenger was met by a bevy of young girls, many of whom were obviously not yet in their teens, offering themselves for prostitution; and, from the upper windows of the houses in all the streets outside the European quarter, more prosperous houris with gold buttons in their nostrils, ignoring Clarissa, called down invitations to Roger to return and visit them.

Yet wealth was far from being confined to the Europeans. In the better part of the city, there were scores of shops-jewellers, silk—merchants, saddlers, silversmiths, sword-makers, confectioners and wine merchants—which rivalled those of London, and the great majority of them were native owned.

At the Beaumont's reception that evening, they were presented to Sir John Shore, the Governor-General. He had succeeded Lord Cornwallis in ‘93 and was a very different type from that handsome, much-beloved soldier. Sir John had spent a lifetime in the Company's service and risen to its highest post by his industry, honesty and capability as a civil administrator; but he was an ugly ungracious man, incapable of inspiring affection, and of a deeply religious bent which did nothing to add to his popularity in a society which, though outwardly elegant, found its principal distractions in drunkenness and lechery.

Sir Robert Abercrombie, the Commander-in-Chief, Admiral Elphinstone, Commanding the Bengal Squadron and General Brisco, the Commander of the Company's Troops, were also there. The first, who was purblind and looked like a Skye terrier, but was at that date Britain's most brilliant soldier, Roger had already met in the West Indies. The second, who had recently been conducting a drive against French pirates along the Assam coast, was an old friend of Roger's father. The third he found a pleasant but unusually stupid man.

Among the legal lights were Sir Robert Chambers, Sir William Dunkin, a Mr. Macnaghten and a Mr. Hickey. The first two were Sir Curtis's colleagues on the Supreme Court, the third the High Sheriff and the fourth a lawyer whom Sir Curtis introduced as the gentleman he had had in mind to act for Clarissa in the matter of the settlement.

The ladies were by no means so numerous, but under Lady Beaumont's wing Clarissa was most kindly received by them,
and they were all agog to hear about her narrow escape from becoming a permanent inmate of the harem of the Vali of Zanzibar. Men as well as women were soon clustering round her, and it gave her a secret thrill to be able, for the first time, to reply to the many invitations that were pressed upon her that she ‘was mightily obliged but left all such arrangements to her husband'.

Roger noted with interest that many of the men still wore powder and that their clothes were much gayer than had in recent years become the prevailing mode in London. In fact, but for the difference in the language spoken, he felt as though he had gone back a decade in time and was once more attending a
soiree
in Paris in the days before the Revolution. Being an exquisite by nature, nothing could have pleased him better, and he promptly made up his mind to order some more suits for himself of brighter silks, with wide skirts, deep cuffs and plenty of gold galloon.

He was, however, much surprised, when the party had been under way for some time, to see in the distance young Winters scowling at him. Etiquette in England was still most strict upon such matters as precedence on going in to dinner, who should be admitted to social functions at the Assembly Rooms in County Towns, and who should be permitted to sit in the presence of their betters. The higher grades of professional men were becoming more and more admitted to the friendship of the quality, but tradesmen never, with the one exception of wine merchants, who had always been accepted into county society.

But Roger soon learned that in India matters were very different. In the early days of the settlements the number of Europeans had been so small that, for the sake of company, the very few gentry among them had been forced to ignore such arbitrary considerations as birth and breeding.

In consequence, matters had continued that way, and now the only qualifications needed for the entree to Government House circles were passable manners, coupled with enough money to keep a good establishment and return hospitality.

During the weeks that followed, Roger and Clarissa had ample evidence of what was meant by hospitality in India. Bengal particularly was a land of ‘easy come, easy go'. By judicious bribery, skilful speculation, or even astute honest trading, fortunes could be made in a matter of months, and they were generally spent just as quickly.

Everybody who was anybody at all lived in a house with at the least twenty rooms, kept a score of servants, riding horses, a carriage and palanquins. All the wealthier ones kept open house, had guests staying for months at a stretch, and never knew until the meal was served if they would sit down twelve or thirty to dinner.

Only the cooler hours of the morning were devoted to work. At half-past three they sat down to an enormous meal, slept after it, and in the evenings amused themselves either with dancing, gambling, music, amateur theatricals, or bachelor suppers from which they were generally carried away by their servants, dead drunk, in the small hours of the morning. It was an uproarious, hectic life, to which only men with iron constitutions could stand up for more than a few seasons, and it was not to be wondered at that the Calcutta grave-yard contained more stones erected to men who had died in their thirties than to stalwarts who had stuck it out till their fifties.

Christmas in strong sunshine was a new experience for Roger and Clarissa, and they were enabled to enjoy it to the full as, at the Beaumont reception, Sir Curtis and his Lady had, once and for all, scotched the scandalous rumour that they were uncle and niece. They now had not a care in the world, except for the swarms of mosquitoes that plagued them nightly and compelled them to sleep under stuffy curtains. To escape this pest, as far as was possible, and the smell of unwashed humanity which pervaded every quarter of the city, they rented a small furnished house on higher ground, some distance from the river, and moved in there early in the New Year of '97.

Mr. William Hickey found it for them and helped install them in it. A few days after Christmas they had had a conference with him about Clarissa's settlement and he proved all in favour of her proceeding with her claim.

He told them that Winters's was one of the richest merchant-houses in Calcutta, and that the late Sidney Winters's estate must be worth near a quarter of a million; so his son, Gideon, would still be a very lucky young man if he came into the greater part of that sum. He then went on to reason that, in the normal course of events, had the elder Winters married again it would have been to a middle-aged woman who, on his death, would have been unlikely to find another husband, so would certainly have claimed her legal due; therefore why should not Clarissa do so? He was also firmly of the opinion
that to claim less than the full sum would show a lack of conviction in the justice of the claim and, moreover, by demanding the full hundred thousand they would protect themselves against a disappointing final settlement should the judges decide to cut down the award to Clarissa.

‘Let us get the maximum award we can,' said Mr. Hickey. ‘Then, afterwards, if Mrs. Brook cares to overlook young Gideon's rash and offensive behaviour towards you both, and forgo a moiety of the money, that will be her affair.'

Clarissa shook her head. ‘Please, Mr. Hickey, I'd much prefer to have naught to do with it. I wish you to draw up a deed, upon the signing of which I will have made over to Mr. Brook my entire interest in the settlement; then it will be for him to decide how much we should return of whatever sum you succeed in obtaining for us.'

Roger at once saw the way her mind was working. Her one desire was to make him this gift, and by the deed she would have given him whatever the court awarded her. If he chose to return part or all of it to Winters, or give the money to charity for that matter, she could still feel that she had brought him a handsome dowry.

Hickey, however, demurred on the grounds that life in Bengal was a most uncertain asset. Young people as well as old, he told them, were quite frequently taken off overnight by a bloody flux, or a galloping consumption. Tactfully he intimated that should Roger be stricken down and Clarissa find herself unable to produce her marriage lines, apart from the money he could raise for her on this claim she might find herself destitute.

However, after some discussion, Roger suggested a way out. Mr. Hickey should draw up for Clarissa the deed of gift in accordance with her wishes, and for him a will by which he left half his estate to her and the other half to his daughter, Susan; and that was agreed upon.

They found the lawyer a most genial man, and he soon became a close friend of theirs. He was an Irishman, although born in a street off Pall Mall, and the son of a lawyer of the first standing, who had many rich connections. It was, no doubt, mixing with youngsters much better supplied with money than himself that had got him early into trouble, as he was the type of man who could not resist the lure of good company, yet would rather have died than not pay his way.
Over their wine one night he confided to Roger that in his youth he had been ‘a rare pickle'.

While still a schoolboy, sleeping with his sister's pretty nursemaid had given him a taste for women, and equally early he had developed a liking for strong liquor. These drains upon a slender purse, freely indulged in during many a hectic night out with dissolute young companions, had got him so deeply into debt that no sooner was he apprenticed to the law than he had given way to the temptation to embezzle his master's funds.

His kindly father had paid up for him again and again, and at last sent him with good introductions to the West Indies. But he had failed to make good there and returned to London, where he had again plunged into every sort of excess. Having made the capital too hot for him, he had decided to try India and, although almost without funds, had carried off a rich man's beautiful mistress, who had later lived with him in Calcutta as Mrs. Hickey. To his life-long distress, this beautiful creature soon met her death from being stricken with a sudden chill; but in other matters her lover had proved more fortunate.

In spite of his heavy drinking, he was shrewd and capable, and his conviviality had proved an asset in the raffish society of Calcutta. Within a few years he had built up a practice that brought him many thousands, and he continued to spend them almost as quickly as he made them; for, although he was now within a year or two of fifty, he was still ‘a rare pickle'.

He now had two houses, one in the city and another, which he had had built for himself, farther up the river at the old Dutch settlement of Chinsurah. His cellars were said to contain the finest champagnes, hock and claret in Bengal; he maintained over sixty servants and two pretty concubines. The death of a third, named Jemdanee, in the previous summer was still causing him great sadness. She had been his favourite, and all who had known her spoke of her as quite an exceptional girl, as she spoke English fluently and had been greatly liked by his friends. But her loss did not prevent him continuing to entertain with his accustomed lavishness.

Before moving into their own house, Roger and Clarissa spent a week-end with him at Chinsurah, and they were amazed to find it another ‘Grosvenor Square mansion' set down in the middle of the country. But it was equipped with every facility for enjoyment, among them a great gilded barge
with a crew of uniformed oarsmen and a private band of instrumentalists. It was through Hickey's having sent them out alone in this luxurious water-carriage that Clarissa, in great excitement somewhat tinged with awe, suddenly recognised a stretch of the river and realised that she was now actually living the vision she had seen while under Rinaldo Malderini's hypnotic influence.

Hickey engaged for them a head bearer named Chudda Gya, a trustworthy man who spoke quite good English, and it was he who hired most of the other servants. What with jemadar, durwan, chubdars, consumahs, hurcarrahs, peons, a kitchen staff, and women to serve Clarissa, they seemed a positive horde, and Roger became considerably alarmed at the thought of what their keep and wages would run him into. But Chudda Gya explained a trifle stiffly that it was not enough for a gentleman to have six men carrying him in his palanquin, he must have at least three more to run ahead shouting aloud his name and quality, and so on, throughout the establishment. The duties of many of them seemed to overlap and often they appeared idle, but the house seemed to run itself with smooth efficiency, the sort of food they ate cost very little and, as Chudda Gya allowed no one except himself to rob his master, Roger found that, after all, his expenses were not unduly excessive.

They soon acquired a small farmyard at a ridiculously low outlay—hens a penny apiece, sheep for one and eight pence, cows for about six shillings, and ducks, geese, calves and deer in proportion—but the natives who reared the poor creatures fed them so ill that they all had to be fattened up before they were fit to serve at a European table.

As it was still the cool season, they were not greatly troubled by the heat, although for the hottest hours of the day they always undressed and lay down to doze in the gentle twilight provided by roller blinds made from hundreds of thin green bamboos. Every morning early they went for a long ride, and later in the day they often went shooting. The country outside the city abounded in game, and the usual practice was to shoot it from the back of an elephant. Clarissa greatly enjoyed accompanying Roger on these expeditions but, when he now and again joined a party to hunt wild boar on horse-back, he would not let her come with him, as he counted her too precious to expose her to the slightest danger. In the evenings there was always some party at which they were welcome, a
subscription dance or a play put on by the amateur dramatic society, and Clarissa was wise enough never to seek to restrain Roger when, at times, he felt like accepting an invitation to one of the bachelor evenings at which everyone drank deep and roared out bawdy songs at the tops of their voices.