Chapter one - Under a tropical sun.
Part I
Part I
The port of Madras
Madras, January 26
The tropical winter had always been a delight for those originated from such a wet, windswept island as Great Brittain. The climate in Madras was always mild at least, but never got too hot. The major backside of the weather in India was the monsoon, that swepped along the coast from June to September and occasionally caused floods. It was January now, however, and the monsoon had ended a few months ago. The doors and windows of the governor's house were wide open, in an attempt to cool it down. The large white mansion stood on a small hill overlooking the town and it's fortress; Fort St. George. Behind the house the governors own ricefields started.
The governor of Madras, Warren Hastings, was a fairly young man. He had joined the East India Company as a clerk at the ago of eightteen and was promoted from Resident (vice-governor) of Murshidabad to Governor of Madras in 1764. He claimed the tropical sun kept him youthful, and in fact he only returned to England twice - the last time was four years ago. He loved this land, and he also loved it's people. Well, not all of them, ofcourse. The continuing unrest and rebellions in and around Calcutta kept him awake for quite some nights. He had suggested a punishment expedition for several times, but so far the Board refused to send anymore troops. Untill last month, that is. When he heard that the Company was to send a colonial army to India, he had been excited...
"Governor, a merchants brought word from Lindey".
Hastings looked at his secretary, who had rushed into his office.
"Herbert, take it easy", he said polite.
"Sir, you don't understand! The governor reported that the colonial conscription is nearly finished, and that the army will be assembled within a month or two".
"That's good news, Herbert, but it still means more waiting".
"Indeed, sir..."
The governor had had double feelings about the Company's plans. Sure, it would be profitable and comforting if the Chinese boycots would be broken, but Hastings had his doubts. Mainly, he had been disappointed when he heard that 'Whitehall' had refused to send men from Europe, and instead conscripted volunteers from the subdued tribes in South Africa. Sure, these black men were fierce and strong warriors, and most had been loyal to the Company (due to the promise of loot), but they were an unruly bunch and had little knowledge of western weaponry. The Company had used African troops before, but then they fought against their own kind, savage like themselves. King George III himself had requested that Hastings would lead the armies in the comming war. Apparently the king had thought to do Hastings a favor. Warren Hastings had accepted the task to please the king, and reasoned that, if things would work out, he would put the army in action in India afterwards.
"Herbert, wait. I'll write a note to Lindey. Make sure it gets on the next boat to Africa".
The secretary nodded. He waited for his master to write the letter, and then reviewed it. He nodded and put his lorgnettes down.
"Sir, if you mind, I can write a letter to Calcutta. They might be pleased to hear they might get some reinforcements".
Governor Hastings laughed, and patted his secretary on the shoulder. The man left the office with a smile.
There was one thing that hadn't crossed Hastings mind. The Chinese had occupied quite a stretch of land in Bengal as well, on the other side of the Ganges. The Bengals called it Chandarnagar, and Hastings reasoned it would make a valuable asset to the Company's colonies. How could he have forgotten?
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The HMS Britannia is escorted to Capetown by the HMS Anson
Capetown, February 9, 1768The HMS Britannia ran aground just when we approached Capetown! According to the maps there shouldn't even be any rifs or sandbanks here! The ship must have quite a powerful guardian angel, though, as the great ship's damage is fairly minor. The Antelope and us (the Vanguard) managed to pull the ship off the bank, and pulled it to Capetown. Days of supplied, as well as weapons and other cargo were brought over to the Vanguard and the Antelope for the time being, and tomorrow shall be brought to the Capetown arsenal. Vice Admiral Hawke certainly lost quite a bit of his ego together with some hullpieces and crewmen. I haven't seen him since we arrived here, yesterday evening. One of my midshipmen claimed that the poor men locked himself in his cabin and drunk his entire rum supply. According to Commodore Wells, repairs on the Britannia will be completed within a week. A shame Capetown only has a small warf - far to small for a first-rate like the Britannia - and thus it might need to get repaired again when we finally reach Lindey. When my deck is cleared from Hawke's cargo again, I'll take the oppurtunity to get some oranges and wine... Yes, wine for the Cape is said to be wonderful!
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Port Cambridge, February 24, 1768
With the Britannia limping, the journey goes very slow. We reached Port Cambridge, a town about halfway between Capetown. Should restock and arrive in Lindey. Hawke refused to slow down, after Commodore Wells offered to sail ahead together with us to reach Lindey on time. Wells and Hawke got in an argument when we got here. I choose not to get involved. I wonder how we are ever to get to Madras this way...
Vice Admiral Hawke