(Ranald Macdonell's "Letters of Reminiscence")

I sailed for India on the second of March 1826 in the ship "Duke of Bedford", (Captain Tween), being then seventeen years of age and a day - A Cornet of Cavalry.

There were, besides the thirty cadets on board, who were in the charge of a Captain White, about twenty ladies, a few assistant-surgeons and indigo planters, some wealthy merchants with their families, and several young men who were going out to Calcutta offices.   Besides these there were, however, other individuals of whom I have no clear recollection, and amongst them one of the owners of the vessel, with whom unfortunately Captain Tween fell out; and in consequence at Madeira, - the first opportunity he had - the skipper left the ship, and the chief mate took his place.  The crew were inclined to be mutinous over this affair, but we cadets did not trouble about the matter, being too much occupied in enjoying ourselves on shore, to dwell on shipboard disagreeables.

We hired ponies and rode about the beautiful island, visiting all places of interest, and revelling in the sunshine, and all the novelty around us.   I remember distinctly our visiting the convent and buying flowers from the nuns, who spoke to us through barred windows as they handed us the flowers.

One day we heard that a great ceremony was to be held in the cathedral, when a young and beautiful girl was "to take the black veil".   Of course we all went to see, and deeply were we impressed with the sight.

Then the ceremony began, the sweet-faced nun-to-be was attired in bridal array -"a bride of the church".   But when it was ending she made her appearance clad in the melancholy black garments she must thenceforth wear, being "dead to the world".   It seemed a sad fate for youth and beauty, and the spectacle made an indelible impression on my mind.

After a week's stay at Madeira, a sufficient supply of livestock and other provisions having been taken on board, the "Duke of Bedford" continued her voyage, and in course of time reached the Isle of France.   There the crew mutinied in earnest, and for a few days we cadets were under arms, and sentries were posted on deck, across which a rope had been stretched.   Finally the ringleaders were arrested and put in jail, but afterwards, it being found difficult, if not impossible, to replace them, they were re-instated on their promising better behaviour, and again we set sail, the chief mate commanding as before.

We had been delayed a fortnight at the Isle of France, owing to the mutiny of the crew, and when, after a disagreeable voyage, we reached Madras, there was another detention, for it was decided to hold a court there to try the mutineers, and all the cadets and some of the passengers were summoned to give evidence.

I suppose the prisoners got their deserts, although I forget what their fate was; but ours was, I remember, to have to pay very heavily for the accommodation we had in the cadets' quarters at The Mount.

Partly on that account, and partly through so many delays on the voyage, our pockets were very light when we went on board the vessel that was to convey us to Calcutta.   But if our pockets were light, our hearts were light also, for we were nearing the end of our voyage, and we took it for granted that all would now be fair sailing:  We had, however, a severe cyclonic storm to pass through in the Bay of Bengal before we reached our destination, but our good ship rode the storm splendidly, and on the first of September, to our great relief, being all heartily tired of the six months' voyage, we landed at Calcutta.