During my stay in Calcutta, I was invited to a large party in honour of Mr. Peel’s birthday; but I refused the invitation, as I had no suitable dress.  My excuse, however, was not allowed, and I accompanied Lady Cameron, in a simple coloured muslin dress, to a party where all the other ladies were dressed in silk and satin and covered with lace and jewellery; yet no one was ashamed of me, but conversed freely with me, and showed me every possible attention.

A very interesting promenade for a stranger is that to the Strand, or “Maytown,” as it is likewise called.  It is skirted on one side by the banks of the Hoogly, and on the other by beautiful meadows, beyond which is the noble Chaudrini Road, consisting of rows of noble palaces, and reckoned the finest quarter of Calcutta.  Besides this, there is a fine view of the governor’s palace, the cathedral, Ochterlony’s monument, the magnificent reservoirs, Fort William, a fine prutagon with extensive outworks, and many other remarkable objects.

Every evening, before sunset, all the fashionable world of Calcutta streams hitherward.  The purse-proud European, the stuck-up Baboo or Nabob, the deposed Rajah, are to be beheld driving in splendid European carriages, followed by a multitude of servants, in Oriental costume, some standing behind their carriages, and some running before it.  The Rajahs and Nabobs are generally dressed in silk robes embroidered with gold, over which are thrown the most costly Indian shawls.  Ladies and gentlemen mounted upon English blood horses gallop along the meadows, while crowds of natives are to be seen laughing and joking on their way home, after the conclusion of their day’s work.  Nor is the scene on the Hoogly less animated; first-class East Indiamen are lying at anchor, unloading or being cleaned out, while numberless small craft pass continually to and fro.

I had been told that the population here suffered very much from elephantiasis, and that numbers of poor wretches with horribly swollen feet were to be seen at almost every turn.  But this is not true.  I did not meet with as many cases of the kind during five weeks here, as I did in one day in Rio Janeiro.

On one occasion I paid a visit to a rich Baboo.  The property of the family, consisting of three brothers, was reckoned at 150,000 pounds.  The master of the house received me at the door, and accompanied me to the reception-room.  He was clad in a large dress of white muslin, over which was wound a magnificent Indian shawl, which extended from the hips to the feet, and made up for the transparency of the muslin.  One end of the shawl was thrown over his shoulder in the most picturesque manner.

The parlour was furnished in the European fashion.  A large hand organ stood in one corner, and in the other a spacious bookcase, with the works of the principal English poets and philosophers; but it struck me that these books were there more for show than use, for the two volumes of Byron’s works were turned different ways, while Young’s Night Thoughts were stuck between.  There were a few engravings and pictures, which the worthy Baboo imagined to be an ornament to the walls, but which were not of so much value as the frames that contained them.