Birds of Passage

by Henrietta Clive

  * The Malabar itch is a common and painful skin condition found in tropical countries. The eruptions can cover most of the body, but may commonly be seen between the fingers and on the front of the wrist. Usually it is accompanied by fever and alimentary complaints. It is said to be a form of ringworm and is extremely contagious through personal skin contact or through clothing and bedding. Lard and sulphur were used in treatment, as well as baths in diluted nitric acid.

  † Treaty of Luneville, 1801, in which Austria was forced out of the French Revolutionary Wars

  St Helena, British Colony

  ‘An immense rock rising out of the sea.’

  Charly continued her journal while on St Helena. ‘August 16th. We landed and went to the house, which Mr Doveton, the deputy-governor, lent us. He is cousin to Colonel Doveton. The town is a very small one, but the principal street is very handsome and the houses are very pretty. The Governor, Mrs Robson, and Mrs Doveton called on Mamma.’ ‘August 17th. We walked about the town, and went into a very pretty garden belonging to the Free Mason’s Lodge.’ ‘August 18th. After breakfast, we went up a hill on the left-hand side, by a very steep path, to see Mason’s fortification; so called, from having been taken by a captain of that name.’ ‘August 19th. After breakfast, we went to the Briars (a small house with a garden belonging to it). It is a mile-and-a-half up the valley. It rained very hard all the time and we were up to our knees in mud. The house belonged to a Mr Dun, and has a very pretty garden, full of all sorts of flowers – roses, camellias, quantities of blackberries growing wild all round the place, and mignonette in great quantities, which flower, we had not seen for a long time. Colonel Doveton had ordered cold refreshments for us that we were too happy to eat. We crossed a brook on our way home, or rather, we waded through it. There never was a more merry, or more dirty party, I believe, at St Helena.’ ‘August 20th. We went to the Plantation-house, where the Governor lives. I rode with Captain Hodson and Mr Blake. Mamma, Mrs Robson, and Signora Anna, and my sister came in a sort of sociable, drawn by six bullocks. Mrs Baker came in a sedan-chair and Mrs Hart in a tonjon.’ ‘August 21st. My sister and I rode with Colonel Doveton part of the way to Longwood and back.’ ‘August 23rd. We went to Church, but I was not well enough to go with Mamma and my sister to see Colonel Robson’s collection of curiosities.’ ‘August 25th. We went to Sandy Bay near Mount Pleasant, the only landing place on the island, except the anchorage at the port.’ ‘August 28th. We went to a ball at the Governor’s.’ ‘August 30th. My sister and I, and the rest of the party, went to Longwood. Signora Tonelli painted a watercolour of Longwood Ridge. It is a beautiful situation, much more so than the Plantation-House, placed on a hill, between two valleys. There is a road, which conducts from the house to the end of a hill, from whence you may see every ship that comes in. It is a small, but very pretty house, occupied by Major and Mrs Cox, who received us most kindly. Amongst other beautiful flowers, geraniums abound.’ ‘August 31st. We returned to the town. The Endymion, commanded by Captain Durham, had arrived to convoy the fleet home.’ ‘September 2nd. We went to Sandy Bay, and to see Mrs Doveton’s pretty house at the foot of a green hill, called Mount Pleasant.’ ‘September 3rd. We re-embarked on board the Castle Eden and weighted anchor. Our fleet consisted of 23 ships and each vessel had its appointed station. The setting sun had a beautiful effect as we left the island, showing its singular and abrupt form. The Church and other buildings, interspersed with trees, completing the view.

  In Charly’s journal a pen-and-ink drawing of a fleet of ships, each numbered, gave the fleet and the order of sailing from St Helena.

  Endymion, King’s ship. The Commodore.

  Star, King’s ship. A brig, sailed about with orders.

  Sir Edward Hughes, East Indiaman.

  Prince William Henry, East Indiaman.

  Castle Eden, East Indiaman.

  Earl Spencer, Indiaman.

  Tellicherry, Indiaman.

  City of London, Indiaman.

  Walsingham, Indiaman.

  Hawke, Extra ship.

  Harriet, Extra ship.

  Hope, Extra ship.

  Lucy Maria, Trader.

  Anna, Trader.

  Thetis, Trader.

  Surat Castle, Trader.

  Marianne, Trader.

  Herculaneum, Trader.

  Denmark, Trader.

  Swede, Trader.

  Cornwallis, Whaler.

  Queen, Whaler.

  Salamander, Whaler.

  The Castle Eden was on the port side of the line of three ships; the Edward Hughes and Prince William Henry immediately after the lead ship, the Endymion, the King’s ship. The lines of ships alternated with three or four per line.

  On September 5th Charly resumed her journal: ‘My sister’s birthday: General de Meuron gave her a fete in his cabin and surprised us all with the sweetmeats and cakes his servant Francois produced. I believe the General himself did not know he possessed such a store.’ ‘September 8th. The weather became much hotter. Some of the fleet saw the Island of Ascension.’ ‘September 11th. We went on favourably till this day, when a gale arose, and the Endymion lost her bow-sprit and top-gallant-mast.’ ‘September 12th. My birthday: Mr Torin presented me with a copy of verses. Captain Durham, Mr King, and Mr Shipley Conway dined with us.’ ‘September 13th. Mr Thomas as usual read the prayers. We crossed the line with a fine breeze and the weather continued fine and favourable.’ ‘September 18th. We went on board the Endymion, a beautiful frigate in the highest order.’ ‘September 21st. A strange sail in sight. Captain Durham spoke to her and came to tell us that she brought good news.’ ‘September 22nd. Quite a dead calm. The Commodore sent us some Newspapers. This weather continued.’ ‘September 24th. A poor man in a fit of delirium jumped overboard. Happily one of the sailors saw him, as quickly followed, and saved him.’ ‘September 25th. A fine breeze decided to be the North-east-trade wind.’ ‘September 26th. The Walsingham so far to seaward, we were obliged to bear down to her. She informed us a strange sail had been hovering near her, three nights running. She suspected her to be an enemy and had pursued her, as we had discovered. The Commodore desires, if she appeared again, that she should be attacked.’ ‘September 27th. Captain Durham came on board; he had seen a strange ship in the night and supposed her to be a homeward-bound. The weather calm till September 30, when we had a fine breeze, but we were often delayed by the bad sailing of the ships.’ ‘October 1st. A rough night.’ ‘October 2nd. The Endymion again took the Thetis in tow. The Harriet sprung her topmast, and was nearly out of sight. Mr Thomas read the service.’ ‘October 5th. We crossed the tropical line.’ ‘October 7th. The Commodore let the Thetis go in the evening.’ ‘October 8th. A very fine breeze.’ ‘October 10th. The Commodore made a signal in the evening for the Hawke to take the Thetis in tow, and then the City of London.’ ‘October 11th. Captain Durham and Mr Shipley Conway came on board. A breeze got up, but it did not prevent Mr Thomas reading prayers.’ ‘October 12th. We went on delightfully till the Walsingham lost her foretop and make a signal of distress. The Commodore then bore down to her. The weather squally at night and a great deal of swell and unpleasant tossing.’ ‘October 14th. Rain all night.’ ‘October 15th. A stormy night and the ship rolled amazingly. The Commodore made a signal to lie to (as there were only 17 ships in company), to wait for the others. The water came in at all the ports, and we were obliged to put in our dead-lights. We were all wet through. At one o’clock a signal was made to make sail again. As the Commodore passed us, he just said “How do you do.” At 5 o’clock a signal to lie to again, and in an hour, we again went on.’ ‘October 16th. The sea and wind as high as the day before. Signal to wait. All the ships in company but one.’ ‘October 17th. A good deal of swell in the morning, less in the evening; variable winds, or rather Zephyrs. The Commodore sent a boat on board.’ ‘October 18th. Quite calm. Captain Durham and Mr Shipley Conway dined here. A fine moonlight night.’ ‘October 19th. We had to form the ships,
and then went on again.’ ‘October 20th. Missed two ships, but as the wind was fair, soon overtook them.’ ‘October 21st. A strange sail, which proved to be an American from Philadelphia; she told us the French had evacuated Egypt. We spoke to the Commodore, the Prince William Henry, and the Dane. The wind was not very fair.’ ‘October 23rd. A strange sail to leeward. Captain Durham dined with us and told us it was the Ploughboy, an American ship. Her news was that the people of Liverpool had made peace with the French, which we thought was a fable.’ ‘October 25th. The Herculaneum was in company.’ ‘October 26th. The Commodore spoke to a ship from Cape Clear, who on October 9 had spoken with the Sir Edward Hughes and the Earl Spencer.’ ‘October 28th. Spoke to the Commodore. He had seen a ship from Lisbon who had heard nothing of the peace.* A rainy and foggy day. Spoke to the Commodore twice in the course of the day. At night one of the ships fired three or four guns. Some put up blue lights. We had to light twelve of them. It cleared up and we heaved the lead in 82 fathoms of water.’ ‘October 29th. Two strange sails: one, a ship from Hamburg. The Commodore went to look out for land.’ ‘October 30th. The Commodore at 12 signalled, “Land in sight”.’

  * Peace of Amiens, not signed until 1802. This peace treaty signed by France, Spain and the Batavian Republic, on the one hand, and Great Britain on the other. England was to give up most conquests made in the French Revolutionary Wars and France was to evacuate Naples and restore Egypt to the Ottoman Empire. The peace lasted barely a year.

  England

  ‘Happily on shore at Deal.’

  Charly persevered with her journal: ‘October 31st. We saw land very plainly. At 3, we were off Dover and saw the Castle quite distinctly. At 4, we cast anchor off Deal. Mrs Baker went on shore with our fellow passengers in the evening. Mamma had promised Papa she would not be too impatient to land. We therefore remained on board that night.’ ‘November 1st. A stormy night. Landing today by no means safe and we sadly feared we could not have a boat to take us on shore. Towards the middle of the day, the wind somewhat abated and a pilot came on board and said that if we could be ready in 20 minutes, he would undertake to land us. We lost no time in preparation and were soon happily on shore at Deal, and delighted to find ourselves at length in old England. We thought the inn, a palace. Our voyage had been an unusually long one: seven months and ten days.’ ‘November 2nd. Some perplexity this morning to know what was to be done. The landing at the Cape and St Helena had exhausted our funds. Mr Cartwright, who was the manager of our affairs, was puzzled. After breakfast, the discussion was interrupted by the Banker of the place, who came to offer his services, thinking we might require them; they were gratefully accepted and by the middle of the day, we were able to proceed to Canterbury, where we slept, feeling very odd in Hack chaises after our long abode in the ship.’ ‘November 3rd. Reached London, having on the road met Lord Cornwallis’s suite, who were going to Paris to negotiate the peace.’*

  * Treaty of Amiens

  Coming Home

  By a knight of ghosts and shadows

  I summoned am to a tourney

  Ten leagues beyond the wide world’s end:

  Methinks it is no journey.

  ‘Tom O’Bedlam’, Popular Ballads, c.1620

  On March 21st 1801, Lord Clive saw his family and Anna Tonelli aboard the East Indiaman, the Castle Eden that lay at anchor in the roads off Madras. Henrietta’s varied cargo included plants and a menagerie of birds and animals, among which was Tipu Sultan’s mare, a gift from Lord Clive to his brother-in-law, the Earl of Powis. Indeed, there were a number of objects that had belonged to Tipu Sultan including his red-velvet-lined Mughal-style slippers encrusted with gold and silver wire, spangles and coloured glass beads with a long strip of leather that curled toward the toes. Tipu’s travelling sandalwood bed, a dais-throne, complete with a quilt and carpet and his elegant floral-patterned state tent, made of chintz were also stashed away. Later, much to Henrietta’s dismay, the gift of a young elephant, presented to her by the Maharajah of Ganjam, had to be left behind at Vizagapatam because he drank fourteen gallons of water a day: ‘Everybody was afraid he was to be sent to their ship.’

  From the Castle Eden’s deck Henrietta gazed for a last time at Madras, a pretty sight with Fort St George and the town’s white polished chunam-covered buildings glistening against the cloudless blue sky in the heat of the Indian sun. Watching the disappearing palm-fringed Coromandel Coast, which like her beloved South India itself was receding in the distance and her past, Henrietta was beset by apprehensions of the extremely hazardous voyage ahead. She found leaving India a wrenching experience. The cultural sea-change that she must undergo between the time of her last glimpse of India and her sighting of land in England was just getting under way.

  Throughout an exceptionally tedious journey to the Cape of Good Hope, Henrietta was buoyed up by her hope of receiving news of ‘my dearest brother’. She was devastated, however, when on arriving in South Africa, she was informed that the Earl of Powis had died in the preceding January at the age of forty-five. Her frequently reiterated fears fuelled by the ‘chasms in one’s correspondence’, had become reality. Throughout her India sojourn, Henrietta’s thoughts had been continuously with her beloved confidant, likening their separation to ‘banishment’.

  The remaining months of travelling at sea were Proustian, allowing Henrietta a period of withdrawal wherein she could let the fragments of her feelings and memories take form. As hard gales monotonously and repetitiously pounded the Castle Eden, a grief-stricken Henrietta struggled with her sense of loss, adjusting as best she could. Dispirited, she wrote neither letters nor journal. It was left to Charly to record the quotidian events and to convey the sway and pitch of the Castle Eden as gigantic waves washed over the rigging and the decks. A call into the remote island of St Helena refreshed Henrietta somewhat, but she remained heavy-hearted. In early September the Castle Eden joined a large convoy at St Helena and proceeded to England. In the latter stages of the voyage, the Castle Eden endured ‘a great deal of swell and unpleasant tossing’, and became ‘extremely cold’. ‘Strange sails’ stalked the waters; danger hovered about.

  The Castle Eden landed in heavy fog at Deal on November 1, 1801. Henrietta’s voyage had taken seven months and ten days. After nearly four years out of England, no one was there to meet her. On her way to London, dressed in proper black mourning acquired at the Cape, Henrietta, Charly, Harry and Anna Tonelli passed the carriage of Lord Cornwallis as he was en route to sign the Treaty of Amiens.

  In the ensuing winter days, and indeed in the years to come, Henrietta would continue to watch carefully over her brother’s financial affairs to ensure that the debts attached to the Powis estate would be greatly reduced by the selling of outlying lands. Lord Powis’s astronomical debts of £177,000 made it impossible for her to realise his bequest of £500 to be paid to her in quarterly instalments as long as her husband was still alive. Were Lord Clive to die before Henrietta, her brother had designated that she would receive an annual sum of £1,000. Further, the terms of the will stipulated that Henrietta’s son Edward was to be heir to Powis Castle on the condition that he would assume the name and arms of Herbert in lieu of Clive. He did so by royal licence in 1807, thereby continuing the name that had been associated with the castle since 1587. Powis Castle and gardens would be refurbished with Clive money.

  Soon after her return to London, Henrietta wrote letters to the Dowager Lady Clive attempting to keep her tone cheerful for her mother-in-law: ‘Tomorrow a cow and calf from India set out to Walcot. I shall order them to call upon you on their way; they are from Tanjore and are very beautiful and different from what you see in this country.’ Playfully, she inserted herself into her letter, adding: ‘You will be surprised though not very sorry to see a face you have seen before at Oakly Park some of these next days and perhaps to have a fish caught for your dinner.’

  With Lady Douglas, Henrietta was more candid, indicating that her sorrow for ‘my dearest bro
ther’ had not abated. ‘I am living in his poor house, sitting in his little room, and though I am as well as possible outwardly, it is really almost beyond me to keep myself up. I feel every hour more and more his great loss. I write not a word more on this sad subject.’ From this trusted friend she did not attempt to hide her melancholy: ‘Suddenly it appears to me that people are grown very old and not handsome since I went away. I suppose I am the same to them, but really it is sad … The Queen [Charlotte] is I think much altered but He [King George III] is not the least changed except being much quieter. Their great attention to my poor brother at Weymouth and in London made me uncomfortable and a civility of Princess Elizabeth was almost too much for me in such a place.’

  A reclusive Henrietta remained subdued: ‘Of the world as yet I know nothing as I have not put my foot out in an evening,’ then with a touch of her resolute self, she quickly added ‘but I will do it.’ Another time she commented ‘I have scarcely seen anybody since I came to town’. She fretted about her upcoming court appearance: ‘The extreme kindness of the King and Queen and I may almost say the friendship the former most particularly showed to my poor brother and since to us, will make that an uncomfortable day to me. My nerves are much affected with India and other things and it will require all the courage I can collect to go through that day.’

  Lord Clive also continued a variety of building projects, which he had begun in 1800 while Henrietta was travelling. Using the mathematician/ astronomer Goldingham as architect, he had first remodelled the Clive family residence, the Garden House at Triplicane. Pleased with Goldingham’s ability to adapt his constructions to the climate by using deep shady verandas and allowing the breezes of the Coromandel Coast to enter freely, Lord Clive commissioned him in 1801 to build a Government House comprised of a complex of Georgian buildings and a spacious banqueting hall that commemorated the Siege of Seringapatam as well as the Battle of Plassey. The Board of Directors of the East India Company became incensed at these expenditures, deeming them to be far too extravagant, and recalled Lord Clive in August 1803.