Chapter 6: Captain Skinner’s Meanderings

“I, Georgina, take thee, Eustace, to my wedded husband. To have and to hold from this day forward, for better for worse, for richer for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love, cherish, and to obey, till death us do part, according to God’s holy ordinance; and thereto I give thee my troth.”

The bridegroom placed a ring on Georgina’s fourth finger (digitus annularis), and then said, in a thin, weedy, voice.

“With this ring I thee wed, with my body I thee worship, and with all my worldly goods I thee endow: In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

With the deed done the minister, the Dean of St. George’s Cathedral, continued with the ceremony.

“Those whom God hath joined together let no man put asunder. For as much as Eustace and Georgina have consented together in Holy Wedlock, and have witnessed the same before God and this company, and thereto have given and pledged their troth other to other, and have declared the same by giving and receiving of a Ring, and by joining of hands; I pronounce that they be Man and Wife together. In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.”

I took a surreptitious peek at my pocket watch. This was the second marriage ceremony I had sat through today and I was hoping the Dean might speed up his delivery of the sermon and rattle through the remaining hymns. The cathedral was crowded, with all of the Fishing Fleet in attendance to see the first of their party joined in holy wedlock.

It was ten days since Hermes arrived in Madras, and I suspected special licences must be the vogue for Fishing Fleet weddings as a six-week delay while the banns were read would defeat the object of the exercise, i.e., to equip a man with a wife so he could be swiftly promoted.

It was astonishing that the first two members of the Fishing Fleet to obtain husbands should be Georgina Spelfin-Jones and Veronica Welles, the most unlikely pair of the fleet to become blushing brides. Veronica had been the first to be married, to Lieutenant Algernon Drinkshyner of the Sixth Madras Native Infantry, a beefy barrel of a man of at least twenty stones, who perspired profusely even when standing still. I judged his beetroot coloured face was as much to do with the intake of brandy as it was to the sun. When the happy pair reaches the cantonments of his regiment at Srikalahasti, some sixty miles to the north-west of Madras, Algernon would be promoted to Captain Drinkshyner.

Georgina had snared Eustace Repp, a Senior Writer employed as an accountant at Arakkonam several days journey to the west of Madras, where on arrival he would be raised to Principal Writer, and a little later would probably be given a small town in the hinterland to administer. He was a morose featured, weedy, diminutive, fellow, dwarfed by his strapping bride, and I wondered if he would survive her weight on his frail frame when they conjoined on the honeymoon, assuming they would conjoin on their honeymoon.

In both cases the newly acquired wives would need to assimilate not only the physical side of marriage but also the running of a household. I wondered which would be the most terrifying aspect of the marriage for the two girls.

As the Dean started his interminable sermon I let my mind wander over the events of our stay in Madras, and drifted into a reverie.

Miguel Cline had shown us the place where legend has it St Thomas was martyred, a cave in the side of a small hill to the north of Madras. A small, rather primitive church had been built over the place by the Portuguese and an altar placed over the spot where Thomas was speared by a Hindu warrior (or shot by a cross-eyed archer). Mimi was intrigued by an ancient painting of the Madonna and Child that was displayed in the original church on the mount. The painting was reputed to have been by St Luke and given to Thomas, who carried it with him wherever he went. Legend has it Thomas travelled as far as China, building churches en route.

“How long was Thomas in the East?” I asked Miguel Cline. “Would he have had the time to travel so extensively and build churches on the way?”

“It is thought he left Judea in fifty A.D, and he was martyred in seventy two A.D. That allows plenty of time to travel to China and return to India. There are churches in Burma and China supposedly bearing the double ichthys symbol, two entwined fishes, the mark of Thomas the Twin.”

Thomas’s body was later removed from the burial place beneath the church on the mount and taken to Santhome Basilica, the vast cathedral built by the Portuguese in Madras. We visited the Catholic cathedral, where the stench of incense, guttering candles, and sanctity hung about like a miasma. I was glad to get from the place. We also visited the house reputed to be where Vasco de Gama lived during his three-year stay in Madras, although I think it was as unlikely as the balcony in Verona supposed to be where Romeo wooed Juliet.

Our new clothes were delivered two days after having our measurements taken, and I admit the work of Gopal Patel’s tailors could be compared favourably to that of any Saville Row establishment. Mimi was pleased with her various dresses and lightweight coats, although the ‘English’ style was not as chic as her French-designed outfits

Hermes had departed for England a week before the weddings. Mimi and I were sorry to wave goodbye to Robin and Caitlin as we had grown quite close to the pair.

“We will probably never see them again” Mimi sniffed as Hermes slipped her moorings and drew away from the quayside. I could see Robin Hands standing alongside the helmsman and doubted he had time to wave farewell, but as the sails began to fill he did. Caitlin Parker was at the taffrail waving a vivid orange handkerchief that was visible long after we could make out the person waving it.

“Never say never my love,” I said, and hugged Mimi to me. “We know they are to settle in Saint Augustine in the Americas. We might be in the neighbourhood one day in the future and will call in and see them.”

The peal of church bells, and Mimi’s elbow in my ribs, woke me from my half-asleep state, and the ceremony was over. Sir Frederick Adam, accompanied by Mimi and me, were honoured guests, and we made a quick getaway in Fred’s official carriage. Back at Government House we divested ourselves of our finery; even with lightweight material wearing ‘English’ style clothing was uncomfortable during the heat of the day.

The time spent in Madras had been interesting but now I was eager to hear what, if any, news Miguel had gained from Pondicherry. Early next morning he arrived in Fred’s office with a jubilant expression on his face.

“My informants are unanimous that the woman you seek, Eloise de La Zouche, has been in Pondicherry. She was accompanied by a dozen large black warriors, and a score of male and female slaves.”

“You say ‘has been’ – she is no longer in Pondicherry?”

“She and her party stayed only a few days. It appears she and the French Governor-General had an altercation concerning slaves. She wanted to sell some slaves to a brothel, but for some reason the Governor forbade it. There was a heated exchange, and she was expelled from Pondicherry.”

“Do we know where she went?”

“According to my informant at the docks, the party took ship to Cochin.”

“And this was when?”

“Near to Christmas, some three months ago.”

“That means she must have arrived atPondicherry in December of last year,” I said, fuming that Mimi and I had been stranded in Aden at the time, allowing Eloise to get even further away from me. “Cochin is where exactly?”

“It lies on the Malabar Coast in the State of Kerala, some five hundred miles south-west of here. A sea passage is the quickest means of reaching the port. Given favourable winds I would estimate a week to ten days to sail from Madras to Cochin...”

“Excellent. Will you book passage for me and Lady Greenaway on the first available vessel leaving for Cochin?”

“There is plenty of trade between the two ports and I would imagine a suitable ship can be found within a day or two. I shall send someone immediately to the docks to inquire.”

“Thank you, Miguel. I will let Lady Mimi know so she can get packing all those English dresses she purchased from your cousin.”

Mimi was not pleased to hear we were taking another voyage.

“I have only just regained my land legs. I will need to turn out my travel trunk and decide what to get rid of to make room for my new wardrobe.”

I would have to do the same, and we retired to our bedroom and started rummaging through our belongings.

“Look what I discovered right at the bottom of my trunk,” Mimi said, holding up a sheet of paper. “This must be Rollo’s as it is covered in hieroglyphs, with an explanation in English of their meaning.” She perused the list and then raised her head and stared at me. “There is a hieroglyph here that I have seen on the amulet you wear about your neck. Look!” She thrust the paper towards me, her finger pointing at a familiar symbol. It was indeed one stamped into the amulet given me by Rabbi Rothstein, the design resembling a cross but having a loop instead of the top arm. Alongside the hieroglyph Rollo’s neat handwriting informed me that: ‘This hieroglyph is named Ankh, and means Life. It was used as the symbol to represent the religion founded by Pharaoh Akhenaten in much the same way as the cross indicates Christianity and the crescent moon Islam.’

“The ankh was the symbol Lillian Skinner said she saw carved on the wall of a Hindu temple,” I said. “She was born in Madras, so the temple must be nearby. If this is true then Crudwright’s theory could be feasible. The House of Fools might have been a missionary training school, and one of the students found his way to India! I must ask Miguel Cline which Hindu temple this could be and go and see for myself.”

Miguel snorted with laughter when I asked him where the Hindu temple was.

“There are scores of Hindu temples in Madras. To which Deity was the temple dedicated?”

I had no idea, and explained to Cline how a Madras born English woman had travelled to a Hindu temple and had noted a symbol that turned out to be an Ancient Egyptian hieroglyph.

“When you say the lady was ‘Madras born’ do you mean she was born in the city of Madras or the Presidency of Madras?” Cline asked.

“Her father was an officer in the Madras Fusiliers, so I imagine she was born here in the city.”

“Not necessarily, Sir Elijah. The Madras Fusiliers comprise of ten companies, but only four are based at Fort St George in Madras at any one time. The other six companies are scattered throughout the Presidency, which covers a huge area of Southern India. What was the name of the officer, and when did the young lady travel to this temple? If we can determine the location of the company the young lady’s father served with, and the date when she made her visit, it will give us some hope of identifying the temple you seek.”

I had met Lillian in December 1821. She was then eighteen years of age and had returned to England aged fourteen, thus it would have been 1817 when her father, Captain Skinner, retired from the Madras Fusiliers on the grounds of ill health.

I gave the relevant dates and name to Miguel, who assured me the record-keeping of the HEIC were second to none, and he would have Captain Skinner’s service records within a few hours.

“I assume you will want this information before departing for Cochin, Sir Elijah.”

“Yes, if we can locate the temple I will need to visit it and have my wife sketch the symbol. I will then inform the Royal Society and the British Museum of our discovery before travelling to Cochin.”

He nodded and left the room.

“How did Lillian Skinner know you wore an amulet ... but of course, you and she were lovers!” Mimi’s voice was quiet, but as cold as that of a wife reminded of a man’s past liaisons.