TWENTY-TWO – Crisis for Harrison

Sunshine cheered them daily until the monsoon cycle returned in May, but the jungle remained humid and uncomfortable. Harrison, already slightly framed, struggled to eat enough to maintain the rigorous pace in the tangle of vines and shrubs. Labourers with machetes worked alongside the survey crew to clear paths, although most surveyors pushed through with their measuring chains. Harrison smeared a handkerchief across his brow, then extracted his notebook and pencil. His fingers slipped along the wooden shaft as he tried to write his notes, while insects buzzed around his head. “What a nuisance.” He waved his hands in front of his face and reached down to scratch his calf, drawing blood which smudged the paper as he clutched the edge of the book. Closing the pages, he withdrew his pocket-watch and turned to his crew. “Let’s head back to the camp. We’ve done enough for today.” The crew murmured as if to say, ‘at last’, then snaked through the jungle in a single file. Once they reached the makeshift camp, they stashed their gear in the supply tent.

As the men settled into their temporary lodgings, James arrived from Ambepussa with a driver hauling a load of supplies in a bullock cart. His storekeeper role included the supervision of most deliveries to ensure they reached their intended destination. The clearing provided respite from the smothering vegetation for the survey crews working several miles into the jungle and created an open space to curtail predator attacks. The bullock-cart driver steered the plodding oxen close to the supplies tent and drew back the reins. James jumped down. “Harrison, you look like you’ve been in battle!” He strode to his brother and clasped his hand.

“The jungle seems as fierce an enemy as I can imagine. Come, sit with me, and tell me about the news from Colombo.” The orchestra of wildlife chirped and squawked in the background while a troop of monkeys hopped about scavenging for food scraps tossed to them by the workers.

James reached into his bag. “I have something even better for you. Agnes sent me here with this cake.” He handed the tin to his brother.

“Ah, there’s a blessed thing.” He took the tin, pried off the lid, and lifted it to his nose. He selected a morsel, then extended the treats to James.

Raising his hand, James shook his head. “No, thank you Harrison. Agnes meant this cake for you. She promised me more on my return tomorrow. Why don’t you come with me to the rest house in Ambepussa? We could organise a hot bath, and you could get a decent night’s rest.”

Harrison sealed the tin and placed it on the ground. “I admit you make an enticing offer, James.” He leaned back into his canvas chair. “However, Molesworth hounds us for progress, and finding the optimal path through these obstacles tests us daily. One example—our preliminary assessment of the land just beyond Rambukkan, suggests two or three tunnels will be required.” Harrison gestured into the dense forest as if James could picture the challenges. “One hopes to avoid tunnelling at all costs; it’s an enormous drain on the budget and slows the project immeasurably.” Harrison shook his head.

Colombo to Kandy Railway Construction (Lankapura)

When the monsoon began at the end of May, the incessant rain intensified the difficulties for the surveyors. Harrison began each morning dressed in clothes still damp from the previous day. Soon after setting off into the jungle, the wall of rain saturated him, and his boots filled with pools of water that brimmed over with each step he took. The survey crews struggled on for a few weeks until work became unbearable, if not impossible.

Harrison sat under shelter as the water thrummed on the canvas, spouting a mini waterfall off one corner. He flipped through his notebook to review entries from the past week, then wrapped the pages in oilskin, and packed up camp until the rains subsided. He shook his head, hoping to dispel the pain; his entire body shuddered. Tipping his canteen back, he took a draught of water. Blasted fever! A few weeks home will be good for my health.

Agnes met her husband at the door and lifted her hand to feel his forehead. “Harrison, you’re burning up. Leave your things. I’ll have hot water brought for your bath. Scrub yourself and get into bed.” She busied herself by the entrance and shooed him with her hands.

Harrison, weary in body and spirit, offered no resistance. He hobbled down the hall, without even asking how his wife felt; they expected their second child by the end of the summer.

When James returned from his workday, Agnes rushed to greet him the moment he walked into the house. “James, Harrison arrived from the camp this afternoon, burning up with fever. He looks dreadful, so terribly thin, and shaking like a leaf.”

James held her gaze; his brow furrowed as he listened. “Where is he now?”

“He fell asleep right after his bath, but his fever still rages. Shouldn’t we send for help?”

James agreed they should summon the doctor. Perhaps he could offer some specific treatment. Tropical fevers afflicted many, and the risk increased when exposed to the environment where the surveyors worked. These illnesses did not always follow a similar course as those in England and could take time to resolve.

Harrison suffered from recurring bouts of fever over the summer as the monsoons continued. The doctor assured them the disease could not pass between people, and time would tell how well Harrison would recover.

On August 24th, Agnes brought their second son into the world. Harrison leaned over to kiss his wife’s cheek. “What a marvel you are, my darling. He’s a strapping lad. What name should we give him?” Agnes cradled the newborn, caressing his dewy cheek. “I suggest we call this son, Harrison. We should continue the tradition of honouring our family heritage and name the child after you and your mother’s family.”

Harrison smiled. “This would please me greatly… and my father.” He stroked the baby’s silky hair. “I love the tradition. As we named our first son, James Mallet, after your birth name, this child can carry my mother’s name, as I do. One hopes the two boys will be as close as I am to my brother. I share so much with James—always have. My other brothers seemed much older; I never established the same bond.”

The rains eased towards the end of September, and James marked his first year as storekeeper. He set a brisk pace home as he walked the familiar streets from the offices of the Ceylon Government Railway. He reflected on the past year, and he considered how he instinctively understood his assignment. Managing inventory and predicting the rate of required supplies seemed natural to him. Perhaps James gained the knowledge from his brothers, Henry and John, when they operated their coffee and tea shop in Preston. Even his father spent a brief time in the grocery trade. Although James handled the role with little issue, he expected, at twenty-seven years, to find work using his technical drawing skills. Still, his job provided a respectable, secure income and never taxed his capabilities. James marched on enjoying the late afternoon sun. A lingering stench from animal dung permeated Fort Colombo, but the heavy rains had washed the streets and encouraged a profusion of flowers with sweet floral notes to replace the unpleasant odour.

In the evenings, once the swarms of mosquitos dissipated, James and Harrison would rest on the verandah, puffing on their pipes; the smoke swirled around their heads offering a deterrent to any lingering pests. “Pipe smoke makes me think of father.” James tapped the ashes into the dish. He lifted his chin to inhale the intoxicating fragrance wafting from the jasmine bushes. “Nighttime brings such a sweet scent.” The climate in Colombo followed a cycle: April to October brought monsoon conditions with daily sunny periods but dominated by heavy rain; November to January, characterized by hot, humid weather, included afternoon downpours; and the dry season, coming between February and April, featured sun-filled days with dusty breezes and withered grasses.

Harrison tilted his chair onto the two back legs. “I plan to resume my place at work next week. I’m certain a return to routine will bolster my mood.” James followed the random blinking lights as the fireflies danced in the grasses.

For several days after Harrison went back to his survey job, he forged on with determination. He bolstered his resolve each morning, but Harrison struggled with the demands of the work in the jungle. One evening, James returned home to find his brother sitting with Agnes in the parlor. James halted so abruptly that he wobbled in the entrance. “Harrison, what are you doing back in Colombo so soon?”

Agnes looked at her hands, then at her husband. She stood up and nodded her greeting before walking towards the door. “I’ll leave you two to discuss matters.”

Harrison looked at James. “Come, sit.” He gestured with his arm.

James sat on the edge of the armchair, putting his elbows on his thighs, and leaned towards his brother. “Tell me. What is going on?”

“James, the company informed me today, they believe I am no longer fit to carry out my field duties.” His mustache quivered as he pinched his lips with his fingers.

“What does this mean? Will they assign you to desk duty? Did they mention how long?”

Harrison shook his head. “Molesworth consulted with my doctor, and they decided I must return to England to recoup my health.” He slapped his palms on his thighs. “I’m sorry, James. We’ll leave Colombo before Christmas.”

James pressed his lips together and focused his dark, deep-set eyes on his brother. This news shattered them both. “Your health should take precedence, naturally, but you can return once you’re fit.”

Harrison raised himself from the chair, pushing with his arms to stand. “No, James. Agnes and I talked this over. This life doesn’t suit us. Once we return to England, we will not be coming back.” He rested his hand on James’ shoulder. “You’ll have to review your own plans, but I encourage you to weigh all possibilities. Although the war in America seems settled, Preston’s economy remains depressed.” Harrison walked to the window. “You are doing well here. You should stay on. I know the staff think highly of your contribution and you would make things awkward for the company if you left with us.”

James watched his brother move to the open shutter and peer outside. His narrow angular nose profiled against the light from the window gave him a noble appearance, but his slight frame stooped. James joined his brother and gazed into the garden. His conflicting emotions agitated his mind as he debated his options. The prospect of being left to manage with no family close by battled with the option to return to England where his aimless path felt like a rudderless boat. “I am so sorry to hear your news, Harrison. I have much to consider.”

For Additional History about the Colombo to Kandy Railway and further development, follow these links:

Thuappali’s Blog:  https://thuppahis.com/2021/11/01/the-development-of-transportation-in-ceylon-1800-1947/

Ceylon Railways- A History – :  https://ceylonrailways.wordpress.com/page/2/

Oh The Bridges They Built- Sunday Times: https://www.sundaytimes.lk/980524/plus11.html

A Historic Journey in 1864 – Sunday Times: https://www.sundaytimes.lk/990103/plus12.html

Old Sri Lanka Photographs: https://thusith.wordpress.com/beautiful-sri-lankan-photo-gallery/old-sri-lankan-gallery/