Authors: Amitav Ghosh
After one of those postponements, Zachary had thought seriously about calling it quits and making a getaway. To leave Calcutta would not have been difficult: he was not under physical confinement and he could easily have found a berth, as a crewman, on one of the ships in the port. Many of these vessels were short-handed and he knew he would be taken on without too many questions being asked.
But Zachary had signed a bond, pledging to appear before the Committee of Inquiry, and to renege on that promise would have been to incriminate himself. Another, equally weighty consideration, was his hard-won mate's licence, which he had surrendered to the Harbourmaster's office in Calcutta. To abandon the licence would have meant forfeiting all that he had gained since leaving Baltimore, on the
Ibis
â gains that included a rise from ship's carpenter to second mate. And were he indeed to return to America
to obtain new papers, it was perfectly possible that his old records would be dug up which would mean that he might once again have the word âBlack' stamped against his name, thereby forever barring his path to a berth as a ship's officer.
Zachary's was a nature in which ambition and resolve were leavened by a good measure of prudence: instead of recklessly yielding to his impatience, he had carried on as best he could, eking out a living by doing odd jobs in the Kidderpore shipyards; sleeping in a succession of flea-ridden flop-houses while he waited for the Inquiry to begin.
The Inquiry into the
Ibis
incident commenced with a well-attended Public Hearing in the Town Hall. Presiding over it was the esteemed jurist, Mr Justice Kendalbushe of the Supreme Court. The first witness to be called was none other than Mr Chillingworth. He provided extensive testimony in Mr Reid's favour, holding him blameless for the troubles of the voyage which he ascribed entirely to the late Mr Crowle, the first mate. This individual, he said, was of a notoriously fractious and unruly disposition and had badly mishandled the vessel's affairs, creating disaffection among the Coolies and the Crew.
Next to appear was Mr Doughty, formerly of the Bengal River Pilots Service. Mr Doughty bore eloquent witness to the sterling qualities of Mr Reid's character, declaring him to be exactly the kind of white youth most urgently needed in the East: honest and hard-working, cheerful in demeanour and modest in spirit.
Kind, crusty old Doughty! Through Zachary's long months of waiting in Calcutta, Mr Doughty was the only person he had been able to count on. Once every week, and sometimes twice, he had accompanied Zachary to the Harbourmaster's office, to make sure that the matter of the Inquiry was not filed away and forgotten.
The Committee was then presented with two
affidavits, the first of which was from Mr Benjamin Burnham, the owner of the
Ibis
. Mr Burnham is of course well known to the readers of the
Gazette
as one of the foremost merchants of this city and a passionate advocate of Free Trade.
Before reading out the affidavit, Mr Justice Kendalbushe observed that Mr Burnham was currently away in China else he would certainly have been present at the Inquiry. It appears that he has been detained by the Crisis that was precipitated earlier this year by the intemperate actions of the newly appointed Governor of Canton, Commissioner Lin. Since the Crisis has yet to be resolved it seems likely that Mr Burnham will remain a while yet on the shores of the Celestial Empire so that Captain Charles Elliot, Her Majesty's Representative and Plenipotentiary, may avail of his sage counsel.
Mr Burnham's affidavit was found to be an eloquent attestation to Mr Reid's good character, describing him as an honest worker, clean and virile in body, wholesome in appearance and Christian in morals. After the affidavit had been read out to the Committee Mr Justice Kendalbushe was heard to remark that Mr Burnham's testimony must necessarily carry great weight with the Committee, since he has long been a leader of the community and a pillar of the Church, renowned as much for his philanthropy as for his passionate advocacy of Free Trade. Nor did he neglect to mention Mr Burnham's wife, Mrs Catherine Burnham, who is renowned in her own right as one of this city's leading hostesses as well as a prominent supporter of a number of Improving Causes.
The second affidavit was from Mr Burnham's gomusta, Baboo Nob Kissin Pander who was also on board the Ibis at the time of the Incident, in the capacity of Supercargo. He too is currently in China, with Mr Burnham.
The Baboo's testimony was found to corroborate
Mr Chillingworth's account of the Incident in every respect. Its phrasing however was most singular being filled with outlandish expressions of the sort that are so beloved of the Baboos of this city. In one of his flights of fancy Mr Burnham's gomusta proved himself to be a veritable chukker-batty, describing Mr Reid as the âeffulgent emissary' of a Gentoo deity â¦
Zachary remembered how his face had burned as Mr Kendalbushe was reading out that sentence. It was almost as if the everenigmatic Baboo Nob Kissin were standing there himself, in his saffron robe, clutching his matronly bosom and wagging his enormous head.
In the time that Zachary had known him, the Baboo had undergone a startling change, becoming steadily more womanly, especially in relation to Zachary whom he seemed to regard much as a doting mother might look upon a favourite son. Bewildering though this was to Zachary he had reason to be grateful for it too, for the Baboo, despite his oddities, was a person of many resources and had come to his aid on several occasions.
Such being the testimonials accorded to the young seafarer, the reader may well imagine the eagerness with which Mr Reid's appearance was awaited. And when at last he was summoned to the stand he did not disappoint in any respect: he was found to be more a Grecian than a Gentoo deity, ivory-complexioned and dark-haired, clean-limbed and sturdily built. Subjected to lengthy questioning, he answered steadily and without hesitation, producing a most favourable impression on the Committee.
Many of the questions that were directed at Mr Reid concerned the fate of the five fugitives who had escaped from the
Ibis
on the night of the storm, in one of the vessel's longboats. When asked whether there was any possibility of their having survived, Mr Reid replied that there was not the slightest doubt in his mind that they had all perished.
Moreover, he said, he had seen incontestable proof of their demise with his own eyes, in the form of their capsized boat, which was found far out to sea, with its bottom stove in.
These details were fully corroborated by Captain Chillingworth, who similarly affirmed that there was not the remotest possibility of any of the fugitives having survived. These tidings caused a considerable stir in the Native Section of the Hall, where a good number of the late Raja of Raskhali's relatives had foregathered, including his young son â¦
It was at this point in the proceedings that Zachary had understood why the courtroom was so crowded: many friends and relatives of the late Raja had flocked there, hoping, vainly, to hear something that might allow them to nurture the hope that he was still alive. But Zachary had no comfort to offer them: in his mind he was certain that the Raja and the other four fugitives had died during their attempted escape.
When questioned about the murder of Subedar Bhyro Singh Mr Reid confirmed that he had personally witnessed the killing, as had many others. It had occurred in the course of a flogging, when the subedar, on the Captain's orders, was administering sixty lashes to one of the coolies. Being a man of unusual strength the coolie had broken free of his bindings and had strangled the subedar with his own whip. It had happened in an instant, said Mr Reid, before hundreds of eyes; that was why Captain Chillingworth had been obliged to sentence him to death, by hanging. But ere the sentence could be carried out, a tempest had broken upon the
Ibis
.
Mr Reid's testimony on this matter caused another Commotion in the Native Section, for it appears that a good number of the subedar's kinsmen were also in attendance â¦
Bhyro Singh's relatives were so loud in their expressions of outrage that everyone, including Zachary, had glanced in their direction. They were about a dozen in number and from the look of them Zachary had guessed that many of them were former sepoys, like those who had travelled on the
Ibis
as the coolies' guards and supervisors.
Zachary had often wondered at the almost fanatical devotion that Bhyro Singh inspired in these men. They would have torn his killer limb from limb that day on the
Ibis
, if they hadn't been held back by the officers. It was clear from their faces now that they were still hungering for revenge.
At the conclusion of the Hearing the Committee retired to an antechamber. After a brief deliberation, Mr Justice Kendalbushe returned to announce that Mr Zachary Reid had been cleared of all wrongdoing. The verdict was greeted with applause by certain sections of the courtroom.
Later, when asked about his plans for the future, Mr Reid was heard to say that he intends soon to depart for the China coast â¦
And that should have been the end of it â¦
But just as he was about to go off to celebrate with Mr Doughty, Zachary was accosted by a clerk of the court who handed him a wad of bills for various expenses: the biggest was for his passage from Mauritius to India. Together the bills amounted to a sum of almost one hundred rupees.
âBut I can't pay that!' cried Zachary. âI don't even have five rupees in my pocket.'
âWell, I am sorry to inform you, sir,' said the clerk, in a tone that was anything but apologetic, âthat your mate's licence will not be restored until the bills are all cleared.'
So what should have been a celebration turned instead into a wake: ale had never tasted as bitter as it did to Zachary that night.
âWhat'm I going to do, Mr Doughty? Without my licence how am I to earn a hundred rupees? That's almost fifty silver dollars
â it'll take me more than a year to save that much from the jobs I've been doing here in Calcutta.'
Mr Doughty scratched his large, plum-like nose as he thought this over. After several sips of ale, he said: âNow tell me, Reid â am I right to think that you were trained as a shipwright?'
âYes, sir. I apprenticed at Gardiner's shipyard, in Baltimore. One of the world's best.'
âD'you think you're still up to snuff with your hammer and saw?'
âI certainly am.'
âThen I may know of some work for you.'
Zachary's ears perked up as Mr Doughty told him about the job: a shipwright was needed to refurbish a houseboat that had been awarded to Mr Burnham during the arbitration of the former Raja of Raskhali's estate. The vessel was now moored near Mr Burnham's Calcutta estate. Having been long neglected the budgerow had fallen into a state of disrepair and was badly in need of refurbishment.
âWait,' said Zachary, âis that the houseboat on which we had dinner with the Raja last year?'
âExactly,' said Mr Doughty. âBut the vessel's pretty much a dilly-wreck now. It'll take a lot of bunnowing to make her ship-shape again. Mrs Burnham bent my ear about it a couple of days ago. Said she was looking for a mystery.'
âA “mystery”?' said Zachary. âWhat the devil do you mean, Mr Doughty?'
Mr Doughty chuckled. âStill the greenest of griffins, aren't you, Reid? It's about time you learnt a bit of our Indian zubben. “Mystery” is the word we use here for carpenters, craftsmen and such like
â men such as yourself. You think you're up for it? The tuncaw will be good of course â should be enough to clear your debts.'
A great wave of relief swept through Zachary. âWhy yes, Mr Doughty! Of course I am up for it: you can count on me!'
Zachary would willingly have started work the next morning, but it turned out that Mrs Burnham was preoccupied with the arrangements for a journey upcountry: her daughter had been advised to leave Calcutta for reasons of health, so she was taking her to a hill-station called Hazaribagh where her parents had an estate. Between this and her many social obligations and improving
causes, Mrs Burnham was so busy that it took Mr Doughty several days to get a word in with her. He finally managed to catch up with her at a lecture that she had arranged for a recently arrived English doctor.
âOh, it was frightful, m'boy,' said Mr Doughty, mopping his brow. âA satchel-arsed sawbones jawing on and on about some ghastly epidemic. Never heard anything like it: made you want to dismast yourself. But at least I did get to speak to Mrs Burnham â she says she'll see you tomorrow, at her house. You think you can be there, at ten in the morning?'
âYes of course I can! Thank you, Mr Doughty!'
*
For Shireen Modi, in Bombay, the day started like any other: later, this would seem to her the strangest thing of all â that the news had arrived without presaging or portent. All her life she had placed great store by omens and auguries â to the point where her husband, Bahram, had often scoffed and called her âsuperstitious' â but try as she might she could remember no sign that might have been interpreted as a warning of what that morning was to bring.
Later that day Shireen's two daughters, Shernaz and Behroze, were to bring their children over for dinner as they did once every week. These weekly dinners were Shireen's principal diversion when her husband was away in China. Other than that there was little to enliven her days except for an occasional visit to the Fire Temple at the end of the street.
Shireen's apartment was on the top floor of the Mistrie family mansion which was on Apollo Street, one of Bombay's busiest thoroughfares. The house had long been presided over by her father, Seth Rustomjee Mistrie, the eminent shipbuilder. After his death the family firm had been taken over by her brothers, who lived on the floors below, with their wives and children. Shireen was the only daughter of the family to remain in the house after her marriage; her sisters had all moved to their husbands' homes, as was the custom.