God we may reach Calcutta in about a week or less, and then a new chapter begins.  Just as we were starting yesterday, an opium-ship from Calcutta arrived, and brought me a letter and despatch from Canning, more urgent and gloomy than any of the preceding ones.  The ‘Simoom’ and ‘Himalaya’ had both arrived, but he was clamorous for more help, and broadly tells me that I must not expect to get any of my men back.  So here I am deprived of the force on which I was to rely in China!...  Canning’s letter is dated the 21st, and therefore contains the latest intelligence.  Nothing can be worse.  I am happy to say that I have already sent to him even more than he has asked....  I trust that I may do some good, but of course things are so bad that one fears that it may be too late to hope that any great moral effect can be produced by one’s arrival.  However, I have with me about 1,700 fighting men, and perhaps we may have more, if we find a transport in the Straits, and take it in tow.

[Sidenote:  Arrival at Calcutta.]

On the 8th August the ‘Shannon’ reached Calcutta.  Her arrival is thus described by Mr. Oliphant[6]:—­

’As we swept past Garden Reach, on the afternoon of the 8th August, the excitement on board was increased by early indications of the satisfaction with which our appearance was hailed on shore.  First our stately ship suddenly burst upon the astonished gaze of two European gentlemen taking their evening walk, who, seeing her crowded with the eager faces of men ready for the fray, took off their hats and cheered wildly; then the respectable skipper of a merchant-man worked himself into a state of frenzy, and made us a long speech, which we could not hear, but the violence of his gesticulations left us in little doubt as to its import; then his crew took up the cheer, which was passed on at intervals until the thunder of our 68-pounders drowned every other sound; shattered the windows of sundry of the ‘palaces;’ attracted a crowd of spectators to the Maidan, and brought the contents of Fort William on to the glacis.

’As soon as the smoke cleared away, the soldiers of the garrison collected there sent up a series of hearty cheers; a moment more and our men were clustered like ants upon the rigging, and, in the energy which they threw into their ringing response, they pledged themselves to the achievement of those deeds of valour which have since covered the Naval Brigade with glory.  After the fort had saluted, Lord Elgin landed amid the cheers of the crowd assembled at the ghaut to receive him, and proceeded to Government House, gratified to learn, not merely from the popular demonstrations, but from Lord Canning himself, that though happily the physical force he had brought with him was not required to act in defence of the city, still that the presence of a man of war larger than any former ship that ever anchored abreast of the Maidan, and whose guns commanded the city, was calculated to produce upon both the European and native population a most wholesome moral effect, more especially at a time when the near approach of the Mohurrum had created in men’s minds an unusual degree of apprehension and excitement.’