Chapter 9: The Overland Route

September 1832

The following days brought a whirlwind of activities for the Carters and their friends. The wedding of Millicent to Doctor Donovan had to be organised whilst, at the same time, they had to prepare for the next leg of their journey, to Bombay. Colonel Weatherby would accompany them, but the Yorks and Mister Cummings would return with the first ship bound for England.

Millicent’s wedding was the last social event in Calcutta for the Carters. Millicent looked radiant in her bridal dress, and James Donovan could not help but stare at his bride all during the ceremony. Ellen and Richard had decided to assume to role of parents to the bride, and they organised the wedding party. The wedding dress was Ellen’s present, as was a chest with the finest bed linen money could buy in Calcutta.

From the elder Carters, the young couple received a beautiful set of China ware. Harriet had discovered a merchant with ties into China, and she had also obtained a more magnificent set for herself which, safely packed in saw dust, was awaiting transport to England.

Then their travel plans were nullified when the Company ship destined for Bombay ran aground in the river shallows and was damaged. Fortunately, HM sloop Seahorse, a Navy sloop of war, was ready to sail on a patrol run along the coast, and her captain, Commander Burlington, was delighted to be of service to a vice admiral and a senior government official. Of course, conditions on board the Seahorse were ridiculously crowded. With Harriet, Ellen, the children, and two servants sharing the main cabin, Richard and his father shared the quarters of the First Lieutenant. Sir Anthony had not slept in a hammock in decades, and to Richard it was a new experience altogether. Where Commander Burlington and his first lieutenant slung their hammocks, they did not know.

The Carters had, however, provided a generous amount of cabin stores, and Sadie saw to it that the family and the officers were compensated for the lack of room with good cooking. Sadie found an admirer in the steward of Commander Burlington, a young fellow from York by the name of Tom Edwards, who helped Sadie and accompanied her to the pantry to prevent sailors from paying her ‘unsolicited compliments’. In this task, however, he was supported by John Little whose mere presence sufficed to cow even the most raucous members of the crew.

Neeta was terrified of the ship and the dark sea around it, and she spent her time in the cabin, looking after the children. Much as Ellen tried, the young Bengali could not be persuaded to walk the deck. She began to doubt whether it had been wise to take the young woman away from her home town. The decision had not been made lightly in the first place. Neeta had begged to stay in the service of Ellen. With her milk slowly drying up, she would not be able to work as nurse, and she would likely be leased to a brothel until she became pregnant again. The man who had bought her from her parents had done this before. Her baby had been sold to a childless couple, and Neeta had been rented to the Carters as wet-nurse. Under Ellen’s protection, Neeta had escaped this vicious cycle, and nothing would ever compel her to return to Calcutta.

The Seahorse turned out to be an excellent craft, and Sir Anthony was found to spend most of the journey on the quarterdeck, once again enjoying the feel of a seaworthy ship under his feet. Once during their trip, they even had the excitement of chasing a Dutch merchant who had strayed into Indian waters. Inspection of the ship showed, however, that the Dutch captain had not traded with India but merely taken fresh water on the coast. On Richard’s advice, Commander Burlington released the Dutchman with a simple admonishment.

The northward run to Bombay was absolutely event free, except for the fact that The Honourable Anthony Carter, now aged a little over a year, made his first independent steps over the swaying deck of HMS Seahorse. The elder Anthony Carter watched with misty eyes as his grandson held on to the steering wheel, trying to steady himself, whilst the quartermasters looked on magnanimously.

It was early October when HM sloop Seahorse sailed into Bombay Harbour. There were a couple of small men of war in the harbour, the famed Bombay Marine, which protected the shipping in the Indian Ocean. Sir Anthony had heard of them and was curious enough to watch them as the Seahorse glided towards her anchorage.

They were greeted in person by the Governor Sir John Malcolm, who was overjoyed seemingly to meet Richard, enchanted by Harriet and Ellen, and delighted to meet Sir Anthony. His wife’s enthusiasm was even stronger but also more credible. She was simply dying for news from London, whilst her husband tried to make a good impression with the two emissaries from HM Government. Bombay, at that time, was even harder to reach than Calcutta, due to the prevailing winds in the Arabic Sea. The Governor tried to convince the Board of Directors of the East India Company to open up an “Overland Route” from Bombay to Suez, and then to Alexandria, and from there to England, and he planned to bring his high ranking visitors on his side.

For five days, the Carters were wined and dined until even a hardened campaigner such as Ellen showed fatigue. The governor had success though in interesting Sir Anthony in the navigational and technical aspects of the Overland Route. A steam ship built in Bombay, the Hugh Lindsay, had already made two runs up the Red Sea and to Suez, and she was to make another trip the next month. Would Sir Anthony be interested to be a passenger? The Red Sea was a mysterious water, and preciously few British sailors knew it. Besides, after a short overland journey from Suez to Cairo, they would sail down-river on the biblical waterway of the River Nile, and they could even visit the Great Pyramids of Giza and other ancient sights. It seemed almost impossible for Sir Anthony to let this opportunity pass.

Richard was more interested in the geopolitical aspects of the Overland Route. It would mean that the European powers, and foremost the British, were to get involved in Arabia. The French had this daring plan to built a canal from the Mediterranean Sea to Suez. This had all the potential of further opening up Asia to international trade. Richard, therefore, saw it as his duty to inspect this Overland Route in person.

The drawback was, of course, that he was travelling with his precious wife and his only son, not to mention his adopted daughter. Could he expose them to the unknown dangers on this poorly established route? When he talked about this to Ellen, her eyes began to shine with excitement.

“Do you think we could see one of the Seven Wonders of the World?” she asked. “Never did I dream of seeing the Great Pyramids with my own eyes. Oh, Richard, let us do this!”

“Are you sure? What about Anthony? Do you think it is possible?”

“Why don’t you inquire about the specifics, darling, and we can decide? Wouldn’t we also save the long trip around Africa? The Cape of Good Hope also holds dangers.”

“Yes, dear, actually, that’s the idea behind this Overland Route. It may be more dangerous, though. You see, we have to travel from a port called Suez across the desert to Cairo and then ride a barge down the River Nile. The territory belongs to the Pasha, Muhammad Ali. He’s eager to improve relations with us after the fiasco in the Bay of Navarino, and he has what seems to be a disciplined army. Yet, we’ll be travelling at the mercy of an Oriental potentate.”

“But it’s been done before?”

“Yes, twice, and the overland part was no problem.”

“And how far do we have to travel through the desert?”

“Close to a hundred miles. They have animals, camels in fact, to transport us. They also have horses.”

“It’s going to be a regular adventure then?” Ellen asked with a dreamy voice.

“I guess you could call it that.”

“I want to. Let me talk to your mother.”

She found Harriet Carter in an excited mood. She, too, was strongly in favour of trying this Overland Route. For a day or two, Richard and his father put up a show to dissuade them, but they were too eager themselves to maintain this posture. Once they had decided, they began with the preparations. They would need weapons, they would need riding garb, and they would need gold coins. The Austrian dollar, minted by the Empress Maria Theresia, was a trusted currency in and around the Red Sea, and Richard was able to secure an appropriate sum for their travel.

The Admiral, meanwhile, purchased double-barrelled percussion cap pistols, with rifled bores, and at an outrageous price. For himself and for Richard, he also acquired two rifled muskets, also with percussion cap locks.

Ellen undertook to broach the subject of their travel route with Neeta. The poor girl had no idea of Arabia, but she was terrified of being left behind in Bombay where she could only revert to her old life. She begged to be taken on the journey, and Ellen, who had come to depend on the young woman, gladly agreed. Sadie, of course, had no other option but neither did she want one. She joined into the efforts to prepare for the adventure.

The departure of the Hugh Lindsay was still four weeks away, enough time for Richard and his father to interview the Governor and his staff. The most important problem as perceived by the local merchants and Company officials was the travel time. Due to the monsoon winds, Bombay was more difficult to reach than Calcutta, and it was for this reason that the Governor pressed ahead with the Overland Route. His predecessor had the Hugh Lindsay built against the express will of the Board of Directors, and so far, the two successful runs to Suez had not sufficed to convince the directors of the advantages. His Excellency was free to admit that the Bombay-built Hugh Lindsay was far from being an ideal ship. Her hunger for coal was so great that her storage capacity scarcely sufficed for the individual stages. Collier brigs had to be dispatched to friendly harbours for the refuelling, and the passengers, brave souls that they were, had to suffer from the all-present soot and smoke. It was of greatest importance to have more effective steam engines, but for that, the Governor needed backing from high up. Sir Anthony promised to give the authorities an unbiased account of the journey once they were back to London.

Bombay’s society was a mirror image of its Calcutta counterpart, only smaller, with less important officials and less wealthy merchants. Lady Lambert ruled supreme in these settings, and her presence was craved by everybody who held a tea or a soiree. Accompanied by an increasingly tired Harriet Carter, Ellen put up a brave facade and toured the salons and dinner rooms of Bombay. In the evenings, the women were accompanied by their men, of course, but after two weeks of this, the faces and locations began to blur even for Ellen’s excellent memory.

It was with relief that the Carters finally prepared for leaving. Their cabins on board the Hugh Lindsay were tiny, but accommodations were better than in the Seahorse. The smell of burning coal permeated everything, especially when the boilers were heated whilst the ship still lay at anchor. The Hugh Lindsay, of 410 tons, carried her two 80 HP engines amidships, between the twin paddle wheels she shipped. Forward of the engine and the chimney there was a foremast, and a mainmast was located aft. She was schooner rigged, to minimise the necessary crew, and the men were mostly busy shovelling coal, shovelling ashes, pumping water, and washing off the soot that settled everywhere.

A total of thirty-six passengers boarded the ship, including the Carters’ party of seven plus two children. After the first successful voyages, the interest was high, and there were four Army officers with their wives, and two merchants, with whom the Carters shared into the better cabins. Some of the passenger cabins had to be converted into coal storage, reducing the number of passengers to pay for the costs. Each journey had to be subsidised with over £20,000, but the governor wanted to make the point that a steam connection was feasible.

Ellen jumped when she heard the steam whistle for the first time, calling the last stragglers on board, and the Hugh Lindsay left Bombay Harbour on January 5th, 1831, on her third voyage. The first leg of the journey led them over the open waters of the Indian Ocean. The ship left much to be desired in Sir Anthony’s opinion. She was top heavy, with the engines on her deck, and she rolled in the seas until most of the passengers felt the seasickness encroach on them. Sir Anthony grudgingly conceded, however, that it was a miraculous feat to steer the ship right into the wind and to make headway at that. They logged a steady 6 to 7 knots and headed straight for Aden where a sailing ship would have been forced to claw its way to windward tack after tack.

Amazingly, it took them just eleven days to reach Aden, 1640 miles to the West. In Aden, the crew worked two days to fill the coal bunkers, to clean the boiler, and to empty the ashes. The passengers were not advised to visit the city, as the Yemen was supposed to be inhabited by fearless warrior tribes. They watched the stone walls of the city, perched on top of an ancient volcano, and they were favoured by the land breeze that blew away the smoke from the chimney to seaward.

After two days, the big paddle wheels began to churn the water again, and the steam ship started on the second leg of their journey. The first one-hundred sea miles brought them westward, past Djibouti, and then they entered the Red Sea. The Captain, Mister Billingsworth, told them to expect a faster pace now, since the waves were not high in this narrow water, and the ship did not roll as much.

Once inside the Red Sea, the captain pointed out that beyond the eastern shores lay the holiest sites of the Mohammedans, Makkah and Al Madinah, known as Mecca and Medina to Westerners. He also told them about the annual pilgrimage to Mecca, attracting thousands of believers.

After six days, they passed the tip of the Sinai peninsula. This was biblical territory they watched when they gazed over to the starboard side, as the Hugh Lindsay made her way north in the narrow waterway. The water was just twelve sea miles across now, and they could easily see both shores as they glided past the dry rocks. Thirty-two hours after entering the narrow waterway, they finally reached the port of Suez.

A clearly excited representative of the East India Company came aboard and introduced himself as Mister Clive, not related to the famous Colonel Clive as he hastened to explain. He assured them of his services to convey them all safely to Cairo, El Kahira, the capital of Egypt and residence of the Pasha, Muhammad Ali. The distance was close to ninety miles, but he had secured enough horses and camels for the passengers and their luggage.

On this last night on board the Hugh Lindsay, Sir Anthony finished his report of the journey, citing the difficulties for paddle wheel steam ships in open waters, but also acknowledging the astounding speed and independence from the prevailing wind that made travel more reliable. A copy of the report went back to Bombay in the Hugh Lindsay, to be conveyed to England from there.

Early in the morning, the workers began to unload the luggage from the Hugh Lindsay’s hold, and the travellers prepared themselves for their great adventure. Mister Clive had organised djellabas, wide coats with hoods, for the women, and he advised them to keep their faces and hair covered at all times, lest they offend and incur the wrath of the local people. Under the djellabas, the women actually wore trousers, allowing them a comfortable seat on the horses. Advised by Mister Clive, Neeta and Sadie opted for camels. They would sit in huge baskets carried on either side of those sturdy animals, and each of the two servants would be entrusted with one of the children. Little Anthony and Sally were fully weaned now, but they still wet themselves, and they were quite difficult to control now that they knew how to run around. Sadie and Neeta were in for three quite demanding days, trying to entertain the children in the narrow baskets.

The other adults sat on horseback, looking forward to the chance to ride their horses through the desert. Ellen and Harriet had practised shooting their pistols during the ship voyage, and they carried them in holsters at their side. The men carried rifled muskets on their saddles in addition to the pistols. The three men, all proficient in the use of firearms, were a force by themselves, in addition to the other passengers and the Pasha’s soldiers who would protect them all. The people who lived in this desert were warlike, and it was not unknown for them to attack a caravan.

On the first day, they made almost twenty miles from sunup to noon until the caravan leader ordered them to stop. They rested during the hottest hours and resumed their journey in the afternoon. It was already dark when they made camp. Ellen was thoroughly exhausted after spending almost a full day in the saddle, and after a frugal supper she just rolled into her blanket in the big tent that had been erected and held her son to her chest whilst she drifted into sleep. She did not even notice Richard as he came in and put Anthony in a low slung hammock.

The night was over much too fast. An hour before sunrise, they were awoken by the noise of the servants preparing breakfast. After eating hastily, they mounted their animals, and with the first dawn, the caravan was on its way. Again, they rode until noon when it became too hot, making almost twenty miles, and in the late afternoon, another fifteen. The last hours had been taxing on the travellers, and Ellen could only marvel at how Harriet had kept up with the rest of them. She was almost fifty years old, and yet, sitting in the saddle of her horse, she could be mistaken for a young person. It had to be the fact that Harriet, with all her lust for life, had never overindulged in anything, or perhaps, she was simply from good stock.

Even the men complained of saddle soreness, and Ellen passed out soft tallow. After a brief rest in the quickly built tent, they gathered for supper. She sat at the fire, her son on her lap, drinking the mint tea that was passed out by the stewards. She liked the taste, and importantly, the children liked it, too, sweetened with sugar as it was. Mister Clive stressed the need for drinking plenty of tea, but he also encouraged them, promising them regular accommodations in Cairo for the next evening.

As they lay in their blankets in the coolness of the desert night, Richard turned to her in the dark.

“How are you holding up, darling? Do you need a day of rest?”

Ellen thought briefly, but she would never ask for rest when a woman twice her age showed no exhaustion.

“I much rather we travelled on, Richard. We can be in Cairo tomorrow. Think of it! The Pyramids and the Sphinx! How many people do you know who have seen them? I wouldn’t miss this for anything.”

“I honestly never knew that you are so interested in antique history.”

“Well, I am, nevertheless. I met learned people at salons, and I always found history an interesting subject. I once spent an evening with Thomas Young as my table partner. It was fascinating.”

Of course, Ellen was referring to the genius Thomas Young, polymath and linguist, whom she had met during the time when she and Richard had been estranged.

“You will probably be the first Englishwoman to ever see the pyramids,” Richard remarked.

“Only if I can beat your mother to it,” Ellen answered, her smile evident from her intonation.

“What I mean is, why don’t you write down your impressions and thoughts, what you see and all that. I suppose Colleen would be thankful for such notes.”

“I’m no writer.”

“Neither am I, but I still have to write those reports.”

“Maybe, I can do that. I have my diary already.”

That was true. Ellen had kept a diary of their journeys, in fact, on Colleen’s insistence. The thought of sharing her impressions with the people back home had a certain appeal. Ellen fell asleep that evening, determined to bring her impressions to paper with more regularity.

The next day began before sunrise again, and they were in the saddle with the dawn’s first light. By midday, they could see the minarets and domes of Cairo’s mosques. They would not be allowed to visit one, they had been told, but the sights were impressive all the same. There was no rest at noon. Instead, they rode on, and before mid-afternoon, they reached a caravanserai in the outskirts of the big city. They entered through an arched doorway and into a large courtyard. Immediately, servants rushed to help them dismount, and they were led to upstairs rooms. Here, Ellen saw the most welcome sight for days, a basin with fresh water. The grime from the journey had permeated everything they wore, and their skin looked pasty with the fine dust covering it.

However, the care for the children came first. With Sadie’s and Neeta’s help, Ellen washed the struggling children, and once their chests had been hauled into the room, Anthony and Sally were dressed in clean clothes. Then, finally, Ellen had a chance to use washcloth and soap to rid herself of the caked-in dust. They negotiated for another basin of water, and she was able to wash her hair with fresh water, a luxury she had foregone for almost a month.

Meanwhile, the men had been shown to a bathhouse, where they were able to cleanse themselves thoroughly. One of the attendants, spotting the old scars on Sir Anthony’s leg, gave him an acknowledging grin and showed him a huge sabre scar that cut across his chest diagonally. Old warriors among themselves. Richard’s scars did not go unnoticed either. After the bath, a barber trimmed their beards which they had grown since Calcutta, and they returned to their rooms looking clean and dignified.

Food for the women was served in their rooms, whilst the men would take their evening meal in the common room. Mister Clive told them explicitly to go armed, not because he expected trouble, but apparently, a man was perceived as less than a man if he did not carry weapons. With mixed feelings, Richard and his father buckled their swords and wore their pistols.

In the common room, they found their travel companions, minus their wives, but also two new men, Englishmen. That they were father and son was obvious. The elder of them was in his early fifties, much like Sir Anthony, and his son was a little older than Richard. They both spoke Arabic with the servants and seemed to be at ease in the strange environment.