" The State rooms," his lordship writes, " were for the first time lighted up. At the upper end of the largest was placed a very rich Persian carpet, and in the centre of that a musnud of crimson and gold—formerly composing part of the ornaments of Tippoo Sultan's throne. On this side was a rich chair and stool of state for Lord Wellesley : on each side three chairs for the members of Council and Judges. Down to the door, on both sides of the room, were seats for the ladies, in which they were . placed according to the strict rules of precedency, which is here regulated by the seniority of the husband in the Company's service. About ten Lord Wellesley arrived, attended by a large body of aides-de-camp, etc., and, after receiving in the northern verandah the compliments of some of the native princes and the vakeels of the others, took his seat. The dancing then com menced, and continued till supper. The room was not sufficiently lighted up, yet still the effect was beautiful. The row of Chunam pillars, which supported each side, together with the rest of the room, were of a shining white, that gave a contrast to the differ ent dresses of the company. Lord Wellesley wore the Orders of St. Patrick and the Crescent in diamonds. Many of the European ladies were also richly ornamented with jewels. The black dress of the male Armenians was pleasing from the variety, and the costly, though unbecoming, habits of their females, together with the appearance of officers, nabobs, Persians and natives, resembled a masquerade. It excelled it in one respect —the characters were well supported, and the costume violated by no one. About eight hundred people were present, who found sufficient room at supper in the marble hall below ; thence they were summoned about one o'clock to the different verandahs to see the fireworks and illuminations. The side of the citadel facing the palace was covered with a blaze of light, and all the approaches were lined with lamps suspended from bamboos. The populace stole much of the oil, and, as it was impossible to light so great a range at one time, the effect was inferior to what it ought to have been. The fireworks were indifferent, except the rockets, which were superior to any I ever beheld. They were discharged from mortars on the ramparts of the citadel. The colours also of several of the pieces were excellent ; and the merit of singularity at least might be attributed to a battle between two elephants of fire, which, by rollers, were driven against each other. The night was very damp, and gave very severe colds to many. We returned to our home much pleased with our evening's entertainment." The Marquis of Hastings, a magnificent nobleman of the grand old school, who completed the Imperial work which Hastings conceived and Wellesley commenced, had even a more exalted notion of Viceregal magnificence than the great Marquis himself, and transplanted to India the state forms and ceremonies of an European Court. The minute ness of the Court regulations, and the etiquette to be oh served, would do credit to some petty German State. " The first aide-de-camp and chamberlain "—an old Official Gazette informs us—" had the management of all proces sions," and a Viceregal procession must then have been a very brave show. At a Levee a procession formed in one of the corridors of Government House in the following order : " The Chamberlain with his wand ; Captain of the Body guard ; the Lieutenant of ditto ; Aides-de-camp, two and two ; the Governor-General ; Master of the Horse ; Aide-de-camp in Waiting ; Chaplain, Secretaries, etc., etc., and the rest of the suite." " During the Levee," we are told, " a captain's guard of Grenadiers was on duty, and a lieutenant's guard or half-squadron of Dragoons." The avenues to the Pre sence Chamber were lined with the Body Guard, dismounted ; servants, all in State liveries ; and State trumpets and kettle-drums. A band of music, of course, attends the Grenadier Guards.
The programme for the Drawing Room was even more elaborate and minute than the programme for the Levee, and illustrates the extent to which State etiquette was carried in those days.
" The Governor-General having taken his station—as at the Levee—the Countess follows in the procession, handed by the Lord Chamberlain, and her train borne by two pages. She takes her place upon the left of the Governor-General, under the throne. The Chamberlain presents the person who requires that ceremony. The person presented makes a sliding how of courtesy, and passes on, unless detained by the Countess addressing him or her. The presentation being over, their Excellencies converse, going round the circle. They then retire to the card-room, where two commerce tables are placed. Lady Loudon plays at one, His Excellency, the Governor-General, at the other : the Chamber lain and Masters of the Ceremonies selecting persons of the highest rank in the room to form the party. They play at guinea pool.
If their Excellencies are successful, it is the perquisite of the pages. When it is over they retire to their apartments, in the same order they came in ; and the suite observe the same con duct as at the close of the Levee." The Lord Chamberlain with his wand, the Chaplain, and the Master of the Horse have disappeared in these prosaic and economic days. The Viceroy and his consort stand More Tippoo's throne, supported on either side by the leading officials, who have the right of private entrée ; and the Military Secretary to the Viceroy reads the name of the lady as she advances. The fair dame—the men are no longer presented at the Drawing Room—makes a " sliding bow of courtesy," and passes on to the ball-room upstairs, where she is received by her friends of the other sex. The vast room, with its double line of noble white pillars, lighted by innumerable wax candles, in rows of glittering chandeliers taken from a French ship in the good old times, presents a fine spectacle. Bright-coloured uniforms of every regiment in the army mingle with the rich dresses of stately, handsome women, who would adorn any Court in Europe. It is a representative party. Bengali ladies in graceful white robes mingle with their English sisters ; and, standing by an Eng lish warrior who has won his knighthood in frontier battle, is an Indian prince, one blaze of diamonds. As the band strikes up the National Anthem the many-coloured wave divides into two. The Viceregal procession—a mass of scarlet—enters and slowly proceeds down the room, their Excellencies stopping to be introduced to the strangers who are present— and every year the number of strangers who flock from all quarters of the globe to Calcutta for the winter season in creases. A winter at Calcutta promises soon to become as popular as a winter at Cairo. The Drawing Room marks the opening of the winter season, and balls, picnics, dances, paper-chases, follow each other in rapid succession till the first day of Lent. Society at Calcutta is the only cosmopoli tan society in India. To the stranger within the gates it is difficult to comprehend the different social sets—their laws of procedure, their jealousies, and their relations to each other. There is the Official set, 'consisting of military men and civilians who hold high office. As their position is by Royal enactment assured, their wives view from a slight eminence the Mercantile circle. Calcutta is, however, a great leveller—high officials become ordinary by mere force of numbers. It is a terrible revelation to the wife of a civilian, who has been a king in his own district, to find that at the capital he only counts as an ordinary citizen. The Mer cantile circle consists of those who, thanks to tea, indigo and jute, are in a position to keep up a palace at Chow ringhee. They are generous and hospitable in a degree not common in other lands. The third circle is the Lawyer set —and lawyers are good company all over the world. They have a larger experience of life than officials, and therefore, as a rule, take a wider view of affairs. If they are apt to be cynical, it must be borne in mind that their lives are mainly occupied with the worst side of Bengali human nature.