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Updated: May 20, 2025
The principal street is called Chowringhee, and it has some fine buildings and really excellent shops, where one can buy quite as pretty things as in London, only, of course, they are of necessity more expensive; it costs a lot to bring them out.
The block of buildings contained in Park House was the first important line of European shops erected in this great arterial section of the city. Turning again into Chowringhee we arrive at G.K. Kellner & Co.'s establishment, the site of which was formerly occupied by one of the handsomest houses in Chowringhee of three storeys.
But Arnold appeared to take it simply and to see no gibe in it, only a pleasant commonplace. "It might look queer in Chowringhee," he said, "but this is not a censorious public." Then, as if to palliate the word, he added, "They will think me no more mad to carry paper bags than to carry myself, when it is plain that I might ride and they see me doing that every day."
Along and behind Chowringhee there are still a few of the old-time mansions of Thackeray's "nabobs," with their deep, pillared verandahs standing well off from the road, each within its discreet "compound," but they are all rapidly making room for "eligible residences," more opulent perhaps but more closely packed, or for huge blocks of residential flats, even less adapted to the climate.
This, as can be perceived, has entirely changed the whole aspect of this particular section of the city, which has been further enhanced by the erection of Thacker, Spink & Co's new premises on the site of 1, Chowringhee, or old Mountains Family Hotel, which had been running for many years prior to it being acquired by the late Mr.
In. the foulest stews of a vast city, with no least notion of how to win his way back to the security of the Chowringhee quarter; in the heart of a howling native rabble stimulated to a pitch of frenzy by the only things that ever seem really to rouse the Oriental from his apathy the scent and sight of human blood; and with a sense of terror chilling him as he realised the truth at which his guide had hinted that the actual assassin would not hesitate an instant to cry the murder upon the head of one of the Sahib-logue: Amber felt as little confidence in his ability to work out his salvation as though he had been a child.
"I don't think the posters carry us as far as College street," she said, "but I am not difficult to explain, Mr. Arnold. I act with Mr. Stanhope's Company. If you lived in Chowringhee you couldn't help knowing all about me, the letters are so large."
Arnold said, almost in a whisper; and her look of astonishment showed her that there were tears in his eyes. He left the theatre and walked light-headedly across Chowringhee and out into the starlit empty darkness of the Maidan, where presently he stumbled upon a wooden bench under a tree.
To go away somewhere, however, was proposed as my only alternative to migrating down to the hideous cemetery among the bogs and jackals of Chowringhee. But where should I go? After having been shot once and drowned twice when a boy, I had been ship-wrecked at the mouth of the sacred and accursed Ganges, and had just escaped with my life and Greek lexicon.
They turned into Chowringhee, where the hibiscus bushes showed pink and crimson over the stucco walls, and at the gates of the pillared houses servants with brown and shining backs sat on their haunches in the sun and were shaved.
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