When I first came to Calcutta was situated in Bow Bazar Street on the
site of the Police Office at the corner of Chitpore Road which has
been recently vacated. The place became in the course of time a
crying scandal, as it was infested all about with native grogshops in
which they sold to the sailors most villainous, poisonous decoctions
under various designations; also by a very low class of boarding
houses run by a thieving set of low-caste American crimps who used to
fleece and swindle poor Jack out of all his hard-earned money. They
would give him board and lodging of a sort, with bad liquor, and when
he had secured a ship they would often ply him with drink the day
before he sailed after having first secured his advance note and have
him conveyed on board in a more or less helpless condition. The next
day when he came to his senses he would find himself in the forecastle
of some strange ship in unfamiliar surroundings half-way down the
river without a rupee in his pocket and very often with little more
than the clothes he stood up in. The Government at last stepped in and
ordered the home to be transferred to its present position, but for
some reason or other it took four years to accomplish. Jack is now
very comfortably off and well taken care of, and away from the
temptations that formerly assailed him; besides this he is entirely
free from any attempts to swindle him, as the authorities are always
prepared to cash his advance notes for a small fee. This change has
proved to be the greatest boon that could have been conferred on the
sailors coming to Calcutta.

Since writing the above, I have been furnished by my friend Willie
Bryant, Branch Pilot of the Bengal Pilot Service, with the following
particulars of incidents that occurred in the days that I am writing
of, for the correctness of which he can thoroughly vouch. I feel sure
they will be read with the greatest interest.